English 10: Writing Portfolio

 

Catholic Memorial High School

 

2006-2007

   
   
   
   
   
Research  
   
Creative Writing  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
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  Royal Stone

Just as the clock struck 3:30 I arrived home from my day at school. I wondered around my house
looking for any sign of food. Thus far I had no luck but I did happen to come across a very peculiar
object on the window sill in my dinning room. It was a royal blue color and had a rocky outer edge
but in the in side looked to be a glass with swirl patterns ranging from blue to orange and back to
light blue. It looked to very fragile so I decided to pick it up…

…Instantly I had a flashback to the point where my great grandmother found it. I got up from my
crouched position with the stone in hand to find a petite old lady sitting with legs crossed on a
piece of drift wood no bigger than her. The old lady started off, “Ahhh, I see that you have found
the stone of the great queen of England. Back long ago before the queen was a queen, she came a
cross that very same stone in the English channel. She loved that stone; she brought it every where
with her. Until the day she returned to the very same spot and mistakenly left it there.”

“Do you know what she did my boy?” she questioned me.

“No,” I replied, “What did she do?”

She regained her breathe and continued, “The princess search for hours but the stone was no where to
be seen. The tricky little stone slipped out to sea. Over the next 20 years the rock mad it across
the ocean floor. Until it came to the biggest challenge thus far in his, yes the rock is male, in
his journey. It was the size of Mount Everest; it was called the Atlantic Shelf. So he decided that
there was nowhere to go but up, and he started on his treacherous journey up the mountain. It was if
he almost grew a set of legs and walked up it, that’s how quick he moved.”

Sipped some water. And continued, “A great 28 days later he reached the top of the shelf, he knew it
was steady sailing from here. He managed to make his way down the coast from Maine and into the
Savin Hill harbor where he rested. The strong rip tides and current washed him up on the shore. Then
one sunny summer day I was walking along and came across the stone, picked it up and brought it home
with…”

I interrupted her, “So you must be my great grandmother?” but as I looked up she was gone. Nothing
but piece of drift wood and a little glass of water with a sip missing.
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
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