Big Whopper
“Destiny’s hair was piled up on her head. It was in a puff with a pink ribbon.
She stopped at the not-so-white paper wall.
A sixth grader named Peter Petway had written a discovery.
It had something to do with numbers. They were squeezed in all over the place.
Destiny passed her own blank space.
It was the only clean spot on the whole wall.
Mitchell and Habib were standing there. “We did one together,” Mitchell said. “It’s discovering how to make a parachute.”
Tie string on 4 corners of a paper....
Knot the strings together.
Stick a robot on the end.
Throw it out the window.
“Does that work?” Destiny asked.
“Why not?” said Habib. “We’re going to try it tomorrow. You can watch.”
“Cool.” If only she could think up something.
It was time to go to the bus.
No one pushed.
No one stomped.
Everyone handed in their permission slips quietly. That was because strict Mrs. Farelli was going with them.
Ms. Katz was there, too. She was at the back of the bus. She was singing with the fifth graders.MoreLess
She stopped at the not-so-white paper wall.
A sixth grader named Peter Petway had written a discovery.
It had something to do with numbers. They were squeezed in all over the place.
Destiny passed her own blank space.
It was the only clean spot on the whole wall.
Mitchell and Habib were standing there. “We did one together,” Mitchell said. “It’s discovering how to make a parachute.”
Tie string on 4 corners of a paper....
Knot the strings together.
Stick a robot on the end.
Throw it out the window.
“Does that work?” Destiny asked.
“Why not?” said Habib. “We’re going to try it tomorrow. You can watch.”
“Cool.” If only she could think up something.
It was time to go to the bus.
No one pushed.
No one stomped.
Everyone handed in their permission slips quietly. That was because strict Mrs. Farelli was going with them.
Ms. Katz was there, too. She was at the back of the bus. She was singing with the fifth graders.MoreLess
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