HAHA. So.... I was going through old stuff, looking for something. But, as is always the case, I got distracted but all the other stuff in my "keep" stashes... So here's a story that I wrote when I was little. I don't know how old I was, but I was young enough to misspell stuff--maybe 2nd grade....
okay, just found a date: 1996. I'd have been 9. That's probably 4th grade. So I apparently sucked at spelling far longer than I thought. Annnnnyways, here's the story (wish you could see the scratchy unsteady concentrated handwriting, but you'll just have to imagine).
Eleven-year-old Monica Miller was going to be the worlds best detective when she grew up. Her neighbor, Ms. Mishane was in her 60's. She said that getting an erly start on life was importent. At first Monica didn't know what this meant. She was only 7 when Ms. Mishane said this. Every night before Monica went to the sleep she would think about what that meant untill she finally figured it out. From that day on she was called NICA THE SPY. Nica was a nickname her friend Sandra Casey called her. Sandra wanted to be a docter when she grew up. Now Nica had already filled up ten notebooks. Nica every day after school would go on her spy rootine. Her spy rootine went this this. First the market. Then the fish store. Then the dairy and the meat store. Last but definitly not least 34th street. There were nine hoses to spy on. Nica's favorite house was old Mrs. Sadie's house. She had servents and money. people say she steels the money from banks and stuff. There was always something going on there. That's why Nica likes it so much.
And that is the unfinished story of Nica the Spy--forever lost in the mind of a fourth grader. Haha. You probably didn't get as much enjoyment from that as I did; however, it made me laugh, so I decided to share it with you.
Note: This was the year I was Harriet the Spy for Halloween. ☺
-D*sire
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