Virtuous Carney (in brievity) - needs editing
Here's some editing I did to that carnival paper I wrote, It had to be cut down it 250 words then to 125, then to 50...
The Carney watched the family of three approach and knew what he had to do. And at two hits for a dollar, the parents bought themselves forgiveness for inattentiveness.First shot, I suppose you should understand the game - it operates off a catapult theory, went straight to the ground. Rubber, a catapult and a mallet in the hands of an eight year old amounted to six inches of lift and distance. Second shot straight to the groundA free try followed the first two in suit.“A fourth free shot, but you have to do it my way ok?""ok""Stand just so far back, swing straight up over your head, when you do swing to hit don't forget to keep looking at the target and lean forward, but here's the thing... You see that target?""Uh-huh" "Is there anyone who picks on you, makes you feel bad, doesn't like you? Someone you don't like either?" Watching the light-bulb go off in boys head: " Imaging their face right there on that target. And hit 'em one for me."The parents simply watched as their son brought down that mallet for the fourth time... and sent that rubber catapulting twenty feet across the table. The parents, with looks of embarrassment and hurt stared at their child, at each other... They both put their arm around that boy probably for the first time in his memory and as they walked away they talked to the boy and were for once, concerned about him.
A carnival.First three hits went straight to the ground. Rubber frogs, a catapult, and a mallet. The eight year old could not get much distance. Given a fourth free shot, the boy agreed to do it differently.
"Stand there, swing up over your head, lean forward when you swing, see that target?" “Does anyone picks on you at school? Imagine their face there. Hit 'em hard."The boy hit and sent that frog soaring twenty feet. The parents, looking embarrassed looked at their child, at each other, then put their arm around him and walked away talking to their child. For once, they were concerned about him.
A carnival. Rubber frogs, a catapult, a mallet. Eight year old boy. Free shot. Taught to win.
“See that target?" “You get picked on at school? Imagine their face there. Hit hard."He sent it flying. Parents put their arm around him and walked away talking to him.
The Carney watched the family of three approach and knew what he had to do. And at two hits for a dollar, the parents bought themselves forgiveness for inattentiveness.First shot, I suppose you should understand the game - it operates off a catapult theory, went straight to the ground. Rubber, a catapult and a mallet in the hands of an eight year old amounted to six inches of lift and distance. Second shot straight to the groundA free try followed the first two in suit.“A fourth free shot, but you have to do it my way ok?""ok""Stand just so far back, swing straight up over your head, when you do swing to hit don't forget to keep looking at the target and lean forward, but here's the thing... You see that target?""Uh-huh" "Is there anyone who picks on you, makes you feel bad, doesn't like you? Someone you don't like either?" Watching the light-bulb go off in boys head: " Imaging their face right there on that target. And hit 'em one for me."The parents simply watched as their son brought down that mallet for the fourth time... and sent that rubber catapulting twenty feet across the table. The parents, with looks of embarrassment and hurt stared at their child, at each other... They both put their arm around that boy probably for the first time in his memory and as they walked away they talked to the boy and were for once, concerned about him.
A carnival.First three hits went straight to the ground. Rubber frogs, a catapult, and a mallet. The eight year old could not get much distance. Given a fourth free shot, the boy agreed to do it differently.
"Stand there, swing up over your head, lean forward when you swing, see that target?" “Does anyone picks on you at school? Imagine their face there. Hit 'em hard."The boy hit and sent that frog soaring twenty feet. The parents, looking embarrassed looked at their child, at each other, then put their arm around him and walked away talking to their child. For once, they were concerned about him.
A carnival. Rubber frogs, a catapult, a mallet. Eight year old boy. Free shot. Taught to win.
“See that target?" “You get picked on at school? Imagine their face there. Hit hard."He sent it flying. Parents put their arm around him and walked away talking to him.
posted by Shannon Hollender @ 10:13 AM
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