The Hole

November 5, 2009
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In my basement there is a hole. It’s not a large hole, just a small hole, the size of your hands clasped together. Where do you go nobel hole? This is its story.

One day I decided to slide down that hole. I barely fit down that endless, dark abyss. When I approached the end, I saw light and not just any light, bright yellow lights. I heard the sounds of a city. “Why that’s crazy,” I thought. “How is this possible?”

Sniff. Sniff. It smelled like the aroma of a sweaty gym sock. As I walked towards the light, it got larger and larger and brighter and brighter. I reached the end of the tunnel and I had to squeeze my eyes into little slits just to keep the lights out. That’s when I saw it-a door. Just a door, not on a wall, no, just levitating in the middle of the yellow nothing. I decided to tip toe closer to the door to inspect it. I circled it a number of times, and I still couldn’t understand why it was there. So I opened it, and there was a pebble. That’s it-just a pebble.

That was a story about nothing. The reason I wrote it is because of the moral of the story. When I let you down by saying that it was only a pebble, yet you kept reading. If you’re still confused, it means just because you don’t get something you really want like not making your try outs, doesn’t mean you should quit.

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