The Chilly Night

Every college student fears four periods out of the year: the week of midterms, and the week of finals (times two for both semesters).  I, unfortunately, am no different from my fellows.  If you are bemoaning my disappearance for the past few weeks, you should stop.  You should instead celebrate my continued existence.  I very nearly died when my brain melted during my Biology and Linguistics exams.  Or, seeing as my exams are staggered so that I am bombarded with an unending barrage of assessments, perhaps you should wait a bit.  I am not out of the danger of a coma yet.  
And that is my excuse.  So, in reparation, I offer you a Throwback-Wednesday piece.  Thus, without any additional procrastination, I present The Chilly Night, which I wrote at the age of twelve.  


The night was cold and chilly,

With no roof above my head;

I lay down and slept

Upon a pine needle bed;

I lay down and slept,

Wishing I was dead,

And facing the darkness with unending dread

The chill and dark kept coming on;

Moonlight shone not upon the lawn;

I had naught to eat,

Not bread nor cheese!

I lay down and slept,

Surely to freeze

Up in the sky I perceived the moon,

Then a piercing scream came out of the gloom!

On and on the long scream came,

Always different,

Always the same

I jumped up from my laying place

And made off at a fast pace;

Yes, curiosity killed the cat,

But I could not just sit there on my needle mat!

The scream still echoing in my head,

I headed toward impending dread.

Chills ran up and down my spine.

I’d never had adventures of this kind!

Up a hill I made my climb.

Then all fear left me,

I felt fine!

The moon observed a sight reserved

For those who knew the boy unnerved.

He’d dashed out into the road

To save his old best friend,

The Toad,

When along came a big, red truck,

And turned the Toad to gooey muck!

YUCK!!!