The boys faces begin to blur; I take of my glasses and rub them on my shirt. The frantic mess of noise and clutter activates my asthma; my nimble breathing makes it hard for me to maneuver on the steep mountain. The fire started to spark and caught on the the warped wood near it. I looked over at Jack and Ralph who looked pleased with there work. I glanced back at the roaring fire which has grown and traveled down the side of the mountain. I hold on tight to the cold hard conch in my hands, and know that I have to say something. "Look at that fire!" I know no one wants to listen to the fat boy, but I keep talking anyways. "Do you even know how many little boys there are?" I look down at the fire again, and the boy with mark on his face fills my mind. Jack gives me a scornful look, but I continue, "Ralph said fire and all of you ran up here in a great tumult, like he's irresistible or something."
"Shut up" Ralph yells in an officious tone.
"I have the conch," I reply, "We need to have more order around here." The great fire turns into a blurry orange mess as my glasses blur once again.
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1 comment:
Quinn-
Great job but can you do a little spell checking? Your blog is really good.
-Emma
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