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Autor(en): 
  • Mesa Morgan
  • My Life as a Box of Rocks 
     

    (Buch)
    Dieser Artikel gilt, aufgrund seiner Grösse, beim Versand als 2 Artikel!


    Übersicht

    Auf mobile öffnen
     
    Lieferstatus:   i.d.R. innert 5-10 Tagen versandfertig
    Veröffentlichung:  Juli 2004  
    Genre:  Romane, Erzählungen, Gedichte 
    ISBN:  9781418406509 
    EAN-Code: 
    9781418406509 
    Verlag:  Authorhouse 
    Einband:  Kartoniert  
    Sprache:  English  
    Dimensionen:  H 203 mm / B 127 mm / D 15 mm 
    Gewicht:  298 gr 
    Seiten:  244 
    Zus. Info:  Paperback 
    Bewertung: Titel bewerten / Meinung schreiben
    Inhalt:
    I spent a lot of time thinking about how I could get away from this hellhole of a life. I knew that somewhere, there was something better. This was the beginning of a whole new adventure and I started to run away from home. At that time Roy Rogers and Dale Evans were big Movie Stars. They were adopting kids. I got the idea that maybe I could get them to adopt me! I wrote a letter to Roy and Dale and asked them if they would. I don't have to tell you. They didn't. They just sent me an autographed picture of themselves with their horse Trigger. I was so disappointed. I thought for sure that they would. This, was when I first decided to leave home, I was going out west! I was going to try and find Roy and Dale. Maybe if they saw me they would like me enough to adopt me. After all, I was a cute kid, and talented too! Without saying anything to anyone, I took off. I kept my eyes on the sun. I knew it set in the west, and I kept walking in that direction. Many hours later, I approached what was known as Boomer Hill. There were no streetlights, and it was getting dark. I was losing my bravado with the setting sun and I was sure there were monsters lurking in the darkness to grab and eat me. I was terrified. I whistled, and sang to ease my fear. It's funny, but as I write this, I can recall that whenever I whistled around my grandmother she would always say, "that whistling girls, and cackling hens, will always come to some bad ends". And you know what? She was right. It seemed like the more I whistled, the more trouble I got into. The trouble started out small, but would eventually balloon into bigger trouble. Why, you would think that I had been whistling with the power of a train whistle! Anyway, I turned around and headed back down that long highway towards home. After walking for what seemed like forever, a police car stopped and picked me up. I didn't know if he was looking for me or not, but he took me home. I told him that I was afraid that my gram would beat me. When we went into the hallway, he put me behind him, and then knocked on the door. My gram answered. She was hopping mad! The policeman told her that she wasn't to hit me, and then he left. She didn't touch me, but she ranted and raved about how ungrateful I was.

      



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