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Writing > Users > Douglas > 2007

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Douglas on September 7, 2007

George's Firewood

"George! George!"

George looked up from the sums he was writing on his slate. Father is home! Quickly he dropped the slate, got up from the grassy lawn where he was seated, and raced toward the sound of his father's voice.

Father had been away on business in the city and he always brought home something special for George when he returned. Sometimes it was a piece of candy, sometimes new clothing, and sometimes an unimagineable trinket from the far reaches of the world.

Father was standing, looking stern, next to the newly cut and split stack of firewood just to the rear of the mansion. "What is this?" he demanded.

George looked with pride at the enormous stack. "It's firewood, father."

"Hm." Father's response was noncommital. After a pause he added, "Did you cut it yourself?"

George grinned. "All by myself, father."

"Tell me the truth, son. I was only gone five days; you cut all that wood by yourself in five days?"

George didn't like it when Father doubted him. "Father," he said reproachfully, "I cannot tell a lie. It was I who cut down your cherry tree."

"Very well, son. It's a relief to have that ugly old eyesore off the lawn - wasn't bearing any fruit anyway."

"No sir," George said, looking expectantly up at his father.

"Oh, very well," Father said, reaching into his pocket. "I guess you've earned your pay this time." Pulling his hand from his pocket, he tossed five shiny coins into the air. They glinted in the sunlight as they tumbled in high arcs toward the young woodsman.

George scrambled for each of the valuable silver dollars while his father, chuckling to himself, entered the mansion. George waited until the door had closed behind him, then called out, "Fred! Fred!"

George's younger brother Fred came running from the other side of the yard. He stopped abruptly in front of George and held out his hand.

"Thanks for chopping down that cherry tree, Fred," George said. "Here's your twenty cents."

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