A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)
Friday, November 23, 2012
Casual Fridays: Happy Birthday, Charlie Bucket!!
This weekend, my family is celebrating my nephew's very first birthday. Whaaaa! Happy Birthday, Charlie! And now, in honor of our dear Charlie Bucket's birthday, here's a story excerpt:
"Very softly, Grandpa Joe said, "You're pulling our legs, Charlie, aren't you? You're having a little joke?"
"I am not!" cried Charlie, rushing up to the bed and holding out the large and beautiful Golden Ticket for him to see.
Grandpa Joe leaned forward and took a close look, his nose almost touching the ticket. The others watched him, waiting for the verdict.
Then very slowly, with a slow and marvelous grin spreading all over his face, Grandpa Joe lifted his head and looked straight at Charlie. The color was rushing to his cheeks, and his eyes were wide open, shining with joy, and in the center of each eye, right in the very center, in the black pupil, a little spark of wild excitement was slowly dancing.
Then the old man took a deep breath, and suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, an explosion seemed to take place inside him. He threw up his arms and yelled "Yippeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" And at the same time, his long bony body rose up out of the bed and his bowl of soup went flying into the face of Grandma Josephine, and in one fantastic leap, this old fellow of ninety-six and a half, who hadn't been out of bed these last twenty years, jumped on to the floor and started doing a dance of victory in his pajamas.
"Yippeeeeeeee!" he shouted. "Three cheers for Charlie! Hip, hip, hooray!"
Roald Dahl, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Dance in your pjs and smash some cake onto your face this weekend, story makers. My little nephew will most definitely be doing the same. (And who's kidding who? I'll likely be joining him.)