Melancholy :: Creative Writing Essays

Melancholy The autumn sun beat down still and hot as Trey peered over the whitewashed fence. Widow Harris' garden was just on the other side. It was a very sad looking garden. There were weeds everywhere. He scanned past the zucchini squash, the only thing doing well in the whole garden, and over the cantaloupe vine. Yes! The watermelon was still there! Trey could see it through the scraggly leaves of its vine. If he was fast, he could grab it and be gone before Mrs. Harris even knew he was there. Plagued with misgivings, but determined to go on, Trey climbed over the fence into the garden. His friends whispered that the old lady was really a witch and would turn you into a cricket and feed you to her cat if she caught you sneaking around. He pushed the thought from his mind. Trey pulled at the watermelon, but the vine clung too tight. He shifted his grip and pulled harder. Suddenly, the entire vine pulled out of the ground and Trey fell back, landing on his seat. While he was struggling with the tenacious fruit, the front door screeched open. "Hey! Out of my garden!" Mrs. Harris hobbled out onto her front porch. Trey scrambled frantically over the fence holding the melon by its vine. He dropped down to the sidewalk only to find his cousin, Miles, coming up the street. If Miles found out what he was doing, it'd ruin everything. Miles had an extremely over zealous conscience. Trey tried to run, but the watermelon was still on the other side of the fence. He yanked the vine and the melon flew over the fence. Just then, the melon snapped off its vine. Instead of sailing neatly into Trey's waiting arms it smashed against the sidewalk and burst open with a dull thump. He hurriedly gathered up as many of the slick red pieces as he could hold and ran clutching them tightly, soaking the front of his shirt. Miles couldn't believe Trey was stealing a watermelon! He pounded after his twin in age as fast as he could, but Trey, lank and swift on his feet, easily outdistanced him. Miles stopped, his hands on his knees and breathing hard. He was no match in speed to Trey. As his breathing slowed, he took a moment to think. Miles grinned. The logical place for his cousin to head was the old apple orchard, where they had a hideout. Melancholy :: Creative Writing Essays Melancholy The autumn sun beat down still and hot as Trey peered over the whitewashed fence. Widow Harris' garden was just on the other side. It was a very sad looking garden. There were weeds everywhere. He scanned past the zucchini squash, the only thing doing well in the whole garden, and over the cantaloupe vine. Yes! The watermelon was still there! Trey could see it through the scraggly leaves of its vine. If he was fast, he could grab it and be gone before Mrs. Harris even knew he was there. Plagued with misgivings, but determined to go on, Trey climbed over the fence into the garden. His friends whispered that the old lady was really a witch and would turn you into a cricket and feed you to her cat if she caught you sneaking around. He pushed the thought from his mind. Trey pulled at the watermelon, but the vine clung too tight. He shifted his grip and pulled harder. Suddenly, the entire vine pulled out of the ground and Trey fell back, landing on his seat. While he was struggling with the tenacious fruit, the front door screeched open. "Hey! Out of my garden!" Mrs. Harris hobbled out onto her front porch. Trey scrambled frantically over the fence holding the melon by its vine. He dropped down to the sidewalk only to find his cousin, Miles, coming up the street. If Miles found out what he was doing, it'd ruin everything. Miles had an extremely over zealous conscience. Trey tried to run, but the watermelon was still on the other side of the fence. He yanked the vine and the melon flew over the fence. Just then, the melon snapped off its vine. Instead of sailing neatly into Trey's waiting arms it smashed against the sidewalk and burst open with a dull thump. He hurriedly gathered up as many of the slick red pieces as he could hold and ran clutching them tightly, soaking the front of his shirt. Miles couldn't believe Trey was stealing a watermelon! He pounded after his twin in age as fast as he could, but Trey, lank and swift on his feet, easily outdistanced him. Miles stopped, his hands on his knees and breathing hard. He was no match in speed to Trey. As his breathing slowed, he took a moment to think. Miles grinned. The logical place for his cousin to head was the old apple orchard, where they had a hideout.