Jack, A Tiny Ant

Edwin Li, Age 7
Ann Arbor STEAM at Northside

Jack, a tiny ant, is going to school and he needs a car. So he walks to school, he goes into a classroom, but he can’t see the car. He checks in the kitchen. Still no car. Finally, he goes to the bathroom. He finds the car. Now Jack can pick up his friends for school. The end.

Lamp

Ashish Venumuddula, Age 12
Slauson Middle

Producing light
Super light
Faster than you can blink
Made of tiny electric links
It is hot to the touch
And is bright to see
But it can be used by anyone
Or everyone
And only has one purpose
To produce light

A Bridge Troll From Two Different Points of View

Wei Wei Poortinga, Age 9
Burns Park Elementary

Once upon a time there was a bridge troll. It wanted to learn to cook. It wanted to make wontastic. But he couldn’t get a Southern Chinese cookbook.

I am a bridge troll. I love chinese food. I once tried it, and it was very good so I wanted to make some myself. I once tried to make it myself—it did not go well.

A Frog’s Life From Two Different Points of View

Daniel Han, Age 8
Thurston Elementary

The frog was walking in a tree, but the bird grabbed it and ate the leg and the frog just stayed in the tree, and the bird died because of the frog’s poison. The frog was alive and the bird was dead. So, the frog said, “I win.”

I’m walking in a tree but the eagle grabs my shirt and eats me and I stay in a tree but I bite the eagle so he just dies and I say, “weeeeeeeeeee I win.”

The Corner in the Basement

Rory Campbell, Age 12
Slauson Middle

A green bean bag chair with purple polka dots sat by itself in the far corner of the room. Next to it sat a bin bursting with balls of yarn. Some were yellow, big, blue, unstrung, small, purple, pink, tiny, fuzzy, and prickly. A pair of knitting needles lied in the bean bag.

Only two light bulbs hung from the ceiling. The chains swung. Big tall cabinets covered all four walls, the carpet was damp and worn, and the doorknob to the door locked by itself often.

Kate ran down the creaky wooden stairs, toward her little corner in the dark, cold basement. She plopped her backpack on the ground next to the door, as soon as she checked the doorknob one last time to make sure it didn’t lock on her.

Three minutes later, Kate started a new scarf, for just that day, her scarf had been blown away by the wind. Kate sighed to herself as her needles clacked together. Soon, her long orange needles were a blur; her clacks began to become less regular.

Music drifted down the stairs and filled the room. Kate hummed quietly to “Frosty the Snowman.” Her eyelids began to drop as the song dwindled to an end. Kate’s needles fell to the damp, worn carpet. The world went dark as Kate’s eyes finally shut.

Some point later her eyes popped open at the sound of the slight click of the doorknob.

She tried the door.

It was locked.

Review of a Strawberry

Mia Melendez, Age 8
Thurston Elementary

It is red and bumpy like a perfectly ripe apple in a sunny field. Its sweetness is like delicious pink lemonade, with the pointy bottom of an arrow. There is a silky green leaf and the top of it is like green, thin, silky notebook paper. The inside is wet and smooth like clean, new baby wipes. The outside is fuzzy like a rug. The seeds are soft, and it is so smooth that I can stick my finger right through it. Strawberries are great!

Secret Title

Meredith Fischer, Age 8
St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic School

Long ago . . . An old, weak lady loved the water. In fact, whenever people saw her, her pruny body was in the water. People were starting to get mysterious and many rumors were said. She heard the rumors and disliked them. She was so upset, she decided to swim to another country. Halfway through her journey, she became tired. There would be almost two days until there would be a good place to rest. So she closed her eyes and sank . . .

She woke up after one hundred years. Weak, she swam to another, and when she got there, her secret was told . . .

How did this happen? Wasn’t loving the water a good thing? What was next for the lady?

The last time anyone ever saw the lady was when she knew her secret was told. The next day, everyone was searching for her. She wasn’t found.

Designer Dilemma

Meredith Fischer, Age 8
St. Thomas

Chapter One

Meredith sewed the last purple flower on the blue, silky, layered dress. “Done!” She had just finished the last dress for her collection that she would wear in the fashion contest. Her six-year-old sister Linda stomped up the stairs. “Be quiet!” she grumbled and hopped to her room. Meredith sighed, looked at her dress, and smiled to congratulate herself. When she woke up, she gradually got up from the floor next to the empty mannequin. What? she thought. She scavenged for her designs: none. She grabbed her jean jacket, and then her holographic webcam started to ring. She pressed the button on her web bzzzz. It was a message from her friend telling her she was competing in a fashion contest. It started to rain. She ran to the indoor contest. She was halfway through the contest when a black masked girl came out wearing Meredith’s collection!

Forest Cats

Andreanna Ulery, Age 10
Emerson Elementary

It was a cool, misty morning in the forest. Rain was drizzling down and four cats gathered close. Their names were Sparrow, Pine, Blaze, and Fern. Sparrow was a tawny and white she-cat and had unnerving amber eyes. Pine was a brown tabby tom with dark emerald eyes. Blaze was a golden cat with a white belly and paws and ice blue eyes. Fern was a light silver and black tabby cat. She had delicate black paws and golden eyes. She was the youngest also. The wind picked up dramatically and the rain poured to a steady downpour. Fern snapped, “Let’s get on with this meeting instead of sitting in the rain!” Fern was a young cat but she could be very fierce. Blaze meowed, “Ok. I think Fern is right. Let’s get on with the meeting.” Fern purred, “Thank you Blaze.” Blaze nodded his head. The cats’ meeting started.

A couple days later . . .

It had been raining for a quite a while now and Sparrow was worried. She thought over and over again, I wonder is this is going to be a bad storm? On and On. That night, the wind picked up and whirled around, wailing like a piece of prey had been stolen. Blaze and Pine ran to where Fern lived, trying to find shelter. They saw Sparrow and Fern hunched down, their soft coats flattened. “Can we join?” Pine yowled. Sparrow meowed yes. They joined under the rock and saw they had a robin and squirrel under the rock with them. They gave the squirrel to Pine and Blaze and they chomped it hungrily down. Fern and Sparrow exchanged a few words but were quiet after Sparrow hissed. They all fell asleep and Pine dreamt . . .

He was in a dark surrounding. An unfamiliar tabby she-cat sat in front of him. “You may have fought before but now you need to stay alive. That’s what forest-cats do,” the strange cat whispered. Pine heard a crack and woke up. The forest cats were not all different. Now they were one. The Forest Cats.

The Swamp Goon

James Ulery, Age 10
Daycroft Montessori

Long ago on a misty, marshy, uninhabited swamp with lush reed beds and a rickety wooden dock lived a hideous green monster called the Swamp Goon. It lived under the dock. The monster was seven feet, five inches, green, and scaly. It smelled of dead fish and unpleasant dead things. It had a round head and two fins on either side of its head. Disgusting water plants were its hair and lining its mouth was fringe with whiskers. It had large impenetrable metallic green scales except for its belly. It had webbed and clawed hands and feet. It was once human, but was cursed. After eleven stacks no one went there—all but one young man who fought the beast with a knife but it bounced off its scales. Soon it was upon him, and he was on the beach when its vulnerable spot was showing. He stabbed it, and it shuddered and hissed and fell dying into the water, and everyone lived happily.

Letter to Green Bean

Hannah Ziegler, Age 8
Emerson Elementary

Dear Green Bean,

You look like a green octopus leg. You’re shortish-long. As green as grass. You have a vein like a leaf. You’re dryish-wet, skinny, smooth, like a leaf, you’re as light as a penny but strong, you smell watery. You taste crunchy, plain, bumpy, juicy, and you taste like celery. These are the sounds you make: crack, pop, scrape.

Poem About Broccoli

Madhav Sivadasan, Age 9
Lawton Elementary

Bumpy like bark
Rubbery like an eraser
Optimistic that it will be delicious
Coral-like
Crunchy
Oblivious in my mouth
Like a toothbrush
Interesting

Letter to Kiwi

Naomi Maxwell, Age 10
Ann Arbor Open

Dear Kiki-Wi,

When I taste you, you bubble up in my mouth. You shine green . . . like algae. You’re tough and fuzzy and I believe you can fly. You smell like water on the green part and dirt on the brown part. You are mushy and moist in my mouth like dew on a clover but with a little bit of sugar. After I eat you I feel tingly on my tongue. I shouldn’t have eaten your skin. I looooooove you, but you are not as good as your friend doughnut. Bye! I love you mostly, Naomi.

Letter to Kiwi

Amaya Melendez, Age 12
Clauge Middle

Dear Kiwi,

Remember the first time that we met, when my mom bought you in the grocery store? After that you were right in the center of the bowl. You were the best looking—no bumps—and you were the ripest kiwi. When I picked you up you felt soft, and when I started cutting you it felt so soft and juicy. You were as green and ripe as a tree that had been rained on for hours. I bit into you and at first you had this really good sour sort of taste like Sour Patch Kids. Then after that it was this really pure burst of sweetness that was as sweet as a soft ripened peach. Your taste was just like my favorite candy, Sour Patch Kids: sour, then sweet. The reason why I like you is because you are like candy, but healthy! My favorite reason why I like you so much is because you are a mix of sweet and sour and that is a taste that people could devour. Your brother was tasty too, and now you are both sliding down my throat and going into my stomach. I am so glad that I met you and ate you.

Sincerely, Amaya

Letter to Radish

Adam Wood, Age 10
Forsythe Middle

Dear Radish,

I’d never met you before but it was love at first sight. You definitely surprised me with your unexpected spice. You are as red as a rose and as smooth as silky fabric. Your inside is wet and your outside is dry. I can’t wait to encounter your crisp and crunchy again.

Eat You Soon,
Adam

Review of Broccoli

Avalon McNew, Age 8
Ann Arbor Open

Broccoli, like a tree with little leaves, feels rough and bumpy on some parts and smooth on other parts. When you break it, it goes crack.

Not much flavor, green, green color, with lots of dark green and some light green, too.

I give it three and a half stars (out of five).

New Zealand Fairies

Isabella Whelan, Age 9
Logan Elementary

“I have to go to New Zealand for a business trip!” Nathan yelled through the house.

“Dad always has to go on business trips! Why can’t he stay?” whined Alex.

“Oh, stop complaining, Alex! Your father has to work so that he can provide money for me, you, and your sister, Jenna,” scolded Heather.

NOTEBOOKS

Jayden Swann, Age 11
Farms Intermediate

Another step. My feet burning, but still, I have to continue. I look over and see my friend, Chase, with annoyance wiped all over his face.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” I say weakly, sounding way less encouraging than I intend.

“Every step I take, I feel like I’m stepping on fire!”

We trudge up a sand dune and down another. Eventually we peer over one more treacherous dune and find our little jeep next to the tent we have.

“Yay. How ‘bout we roll all the way down the dune?” Chase complains.

Suddenly thunder claps and clouds roll in like sheets covering the sky.

“What—” I begin, but am stopped by a sudden lightning bolt that sears through the sky and cracks right at the bottom of the dune.

Chase and I start sprinting to our campsite, completely lost on what we will do when we reach it.

We scramble to the tent and gather our stuff when everything goes quiet.

My fingers loosen and I drop all of the clothes I have panickedly collected just seconds ago. As I look out the door of the tent, I notice the sky, just as clear as day. Clouds have already gone, just as fast as they came.

“How—” I begin.

“WHAT is that?!” Chase shouts, and points at the crater at the very exact spot the lightning hit.

“That’s just where the lightning hit,” I say.

“No,” Chase says, “look at the inside of it.”

I walk forward and gasp, “Whoah.”

And there lies a notebook in the dead center.

Ode to Cats

Fern Murray, Age 7
Logan Elementary

You are very soft
You are different colors and shapes
You are like a furry lion
You are mostly clumsy like a squirrel
Meow, Meow, Meow, Meow
You are lazy like a sloth
You purr when you are happy
You like fish and cat food of course
You are fun
Meow, Purr, Meow

Ode to Dolphin

Katherine Ma, Age 8
Logan Elementary

You look like a raincloud
Your blowhole is a water gun
You feel very slippery
Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!
You grab fish in the water
You look very cute
You smell like sea water
See you next time in the sea
Bye