It was a cold, dry night. I was up late finishing some drawings of characters for a small novel I had little hope of finishing. I should’ve just started a new story because I knew that this one wouldn’t make the final cut. The story didn’t sound right at all, and it didn’t have a good plot either. Soon, my grandmother came into my room to talk to me. “Hey, it's time to sleep. You’ve been working on that story for ages,” she whispered, as my grandfather was sleeping.
I looked back at her with my tired eyes. “Alright . . . ” I muttered, as I put my sketchbook and notebook away under my bed. I gave my grandmother a hug before she left my room, and went back to my bed to sleep.
A few hours later, I awoke to a twinkling sound, like a fairy on steroids. However, I recognized that sound — it was the sound of my alarm clock. But it wasn’t going to ring for another four hours. “What is that?” I pondered as I got out of bed. I went to my window to see a flying Ford SUV. It was a beautiful rose red, with golden wheels. It soon fell back down onto the road like a graceful pigeon. Once it was safely on the road, the car drove to my sidewalk, and two blobfish in tuxedos exited the car. One opened the door, and the other rolled out a red carpet that touched my doorstep. I was afraid to go down, but I continued to watch.
Soon, I saw a middle-aged man get out of the SUV. He was pale, and his hairline looked as if it went so far back that it met the Andromeda galaxy. He was incredibly tall, maybe 6’4, but he looked friendly. He knocked on my front door a couple of times, so I decided to go down and answer it. When I opened the door, the man kneeled down in front of me, since I’m only 5’2. “Hello there, T.A.,” he said. His southern accent was thicker than a driveway filled with snow in the middle of winter. As he spoke, I started to recognize him.
“Hello? Do I know you, sir?” I asked. He looked like one of my favorite characters from my stories, Uncle Bobby. I remember using him for stories, for school and for fun. He was always there when I couldn’t figure out what to do. He was so goofy and flexible that he could fit any genre, as long as it had some humor, and he never left me without a good story.
“Don’t you remember me? I’m Uncle Bobby!” the man said, smiling. His big, goofy, toothy grin was recognizable from a thousand miles away. This was Uncle Bobby. I smiled as I hugged him tightly. At that moment, I had an idea. And so did Uncle Bobby.
“Hey, can you come with me?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he replied. “I’ll follow ya!”
I led him to my room, where I sat on my bed as he sat on the floor. He also gave me my sketchbook and notebook, and I began to write the story I still didn’t have much hope for. Uncle Bobby looked at me, then spoke up. “Miss Author,” he muttered, “are you alright? I can clearly see that you don’t look too happy when you’re writing.”
He was right. I wasn’t enjoying the story I was desperately trying to put together. “I have no more ideas!” I exclaimed. “I don’t know what to write anymore!”
Uncle Bobby smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “You must be joking, Miss Author, you’ll find somethin’ to write about.” He snapped his fingers, and looked out my window. “Come with me,” he insisted. I decided to go outside with him.
I saw the blobfish from before dancing with a red panda DJing. Soon, it started to snow too. This was the craziest experience of my life, but I enjoyed seeing it. Uncle Bobby looked down at me with a look of joy as he invited me to dance with them. After dancing for a while, Uncle Bobby pulled me aside. “T.A., you know I didn’t plan this for no reason.”
I looked at him, a bit confused for a moment, but then I understood what he meant. “I have an idea, thank you Uncle B!” I said as I smiled at him. He smiled back with the look of a proud father as I ran back into my room. When I sat on my bed, I woke up.
“Was it all a dream?” I wondered as I got out of bed. I roamed to my desk, and picked up my notebook. I stared at the old story I was working on last night. But instead of working on it, I tore out the old story from my notebook, and finished a brand new story, which had a lot of motivation and love behind it. When I finished, I was proud of myself. I looked at the story one last time, and smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you” was all I needed to say.
I looked back at her with my tired eyes. “Alright . . . ” I muttered, as I put my sketchbook and notebook away under my bed. I gave my grandmother a hug before she left my room, and went back to my bed to sleep.
A few hours later, I awoke to a twinkling sound, like a fairy on steroids. However, I recognized that sound — it was the sound of my alarm clock. But it wasn’t going to ring for another four hours. “What is that?” I pondered as I got out of bed. I went to my window to see a flying Ford SUV. It was a beautiful rose red, with golden wheels. It soon fell back down onto the road like a graceful pigeon. Once it was safely on the road, the car drove to my sidewalk, and two blobfish in tuxedos exited the car. One opened the door, and the other rolled out a red carpet that touched my doorstep. I was afraid to go down, but I continued to watch.
Soon, I saw a middle-aged man get out of the SUV. He was pale, and his hairline looked as if it went so far back that it met the Andromeda galaxy. He was incredibly tall, maybe 6’4, but he looked friendly. He knocked on my front door a couple of times, so I decided to go down and answer it. When I opened the door, the man kneeled down in front of me, since I’m only 5’2. “Hello there, T.A.,” he said. His southern accent was thicker than a driveway filled with snow in the middle of winter. As he spoke, I started to recognize him.
“Hello? Do I know you, sir?” I asked. He looked like one of my favorite characters from my stories, Uncle Bobby. I remember using him for stories, for school and for fun. He was always there when I couldn’t figure out what to do. He was so goofy and flexible that he could fit any genre, as long as it had some humor, and he never left me without a good story.
“Don’t you remember me? I’m Uncle Bobby!” the man said, smiling. His big, goofy, toothy grin was recognizable from a thousand miles away. This was Uncle Bobby. I smiled as I hugged him tightly. At that moment, I had an idea. And so did Uncle Bobby.
“Hey, can you come with me?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he replied. “I’ll follow ya!”
I led him to my room, where I sat on my bed as he sat on the floor. He also gave me my sketchbook and notebook, and I began to write the story I still didn’t have much hope for. Uncle Bobby looked at me, then spoke up. “Miss Author,” he muttered, “are you alright? I can clearly see that you don’t look too happy when you’re writing.”
He was right. I wasn’t enjoying the story I was desperately trying to put together. “I have no more ideas!” I exclaimed. “I don’t know what to write anymore!”
Uncle Bobby smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. “You must be joking, Miss Author, you’ll find somethin’ to write about.” He snapped his fingers, and looked out my window. “Come with me,” he insisted. I decided to go outside with him.
I saw the blobfish from before dancing with a red panda DJing. Soon, it started to snow too. This was the craziest experience of my life, but I enjoyed seeing it. Uncle Bobby looked down at me with a look of joy as he invited me to dance with them. After dancing for a while, Uncle Bobby pulled me aside. “T.A., you know I didn’t plan this for no reason.”
I looked at him, a bit confused for a moment, but then I understood what he meant. “I have an idea, thank you Uncle B!” I said as I smiled at him. He smiled back with the look of a proud father as I ran back into my room. When I sat on my bed, I woke up.
“Was it all a dream?” I wondered as I got out of bed. I roamed to my desk, and picked up my notebook. I stared at the old story I was working on last night. But instead of working on it, I tore out the old story from my notebook, and finished a brand new story, which had a lot of motivation and love behind it. When I finished, I was proud of myself. I looked at the story one last time, and smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you” was all I needed to say.