Monday, March 23, 2015

Wonder Narrative

WALT: I can use the features of a narrative text and I know when and why to use them. I can seek and act on feedback.

California Chaos

I hate public places.
And I especially hate airports.
But I adore California and that's the only reason I"m here. Also Christopher and his family are traveling with us. I'm so excited yet I tremble with fear. Everyone gawks at me and whispers rude comments behind their hands about me. Everywhere I go, there's a lull in conversation of those in the room and then a faint scurry of voices gather up as one as I slope away. That thought lingers in my head.

"Were just going to the loo, you guys need to go?", questions Dad with a wink in his eye.

"No daddy, I'm a big boy now, I can go when i want"

"Sure you don't need me to take you?", Dad says with a smug face.
Christopher starts cracking up.

"Okay then . You guys wait here and don't leave to California with out us"
Leaning on the wall to the toilets, Christopher and I start chatting about Yoda and how he's so midget, green and ancient yet he can do flips and cartwheels. Christopher attempted to do an impression of him and a cartwheel with light-saber sound effects and nearly crashes into a mother with a pram passing by. He expeditiously skids back to the wall but he missteps and we turn out to be in a big heap of ourselves. For some reason this is humorous to us and we start cracking up! A whole cluster of tourists  scramble past, eyeballing us. We leap up somehow from the human knot and briskly dust ourselves off. We are still chuckling though. Suddenly, Christopher falls silent.

Two shadows lurk up behind me. 

"The living dead is coming out soon. Such a thriller."

"Yeah its really gruesome. Heard its based on a true story."

"Dude what wrong with you?! That's why its called a story. Don't you know what a narrative is?"

"Wait. Be quite. Yo Pug Face!"
I know he's aiming those words at me.

"Can't ya hear me?!" 

"Probably cant hear through those bomby-knockers."
They snicker.

I get a hard shove on my shoulder. It felt like it almost dislocated. He spins me around.

"Whoa, he's worse then i thought!"

"Hopefully you're not getting a passport photo. The photographer would have to wash his eyes out with soap!"

That thought leaves another dent in my heart.
I think for a second. Time to fight fire with fire.

"Then how come you're looking at it?"

"Coz I'm better looking..."

"That's rich", I reply, "because you look like a ruffian piece of scrub of Hitlers mustache in a bomb fire. You better not stay here much longer because I can hear the cops coming with the ambulance because you look and smell like something died. They want to throw you lunatics in to the front line of Russia when the greatest of all wars come. The sky will crash on top of you"
I say the last line calmly for effect.
He looks shell shocked.
They quickly scuttle off horrified.

"Good thing i showed you my argument speech!", Christopher finally says.

I have achieved the extended abstract stage.

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