Ken Caryl Times
Weird
Holidays
Holidays
story
MAIN
Lorem ipsum dolor consectetur adipiscing elit
Cover Art: Cereal Day! by Mady MacMillan, Grade 6
INSIDE
POETRY ● STORIES ● COMICS ● ART
Loading...
What'sLoading...
INSIDELoading...
Loading...
Loading...
04Loading...
08Loading...
Ahoy!: Talk like a Pirate DayLoading...
By Aubrey Barnes, Grade 6Loading...
Loading...
43Loading...
12Loading...
18National Hot Sauce Day
By Garrett Ellis, Grade 7
Be Late Day
By Garrett Ellis, Grade 7
“Good morning! It’s 8:30 on this fine day, which also happens to be our day!” I announced brightly. Auggie (a forget-me-not), Basil, Earl (a pine), and Bamboo stirred softly.
The others were not pleased with my announcement. “This day is the same as any day, Herman,” Earl pointed out. “We get to stare out the window. What will change even if it is our day?”
“We will photosynthesize extra amounts of oxygen…?” I supplied helpfully. “Come on, guys. We’ve got to do something! Look, the tall person even marked the calendar.”
Basil sighed. “It’s not that we don’t want to celebrate. We do. But there’s nothing to celebrate. We’re stuck in the same pots, soaking up the same sunlight, talking to the same plants, day after day after day!”
“Basil, don’t say that! A plant in my condition needs this holiday. Sometimes it’s nice to be appreciated, even if you’re sick and might wither up and die soon,” Auggie pleaded.
Basil turned another shade of green. “I didn’t mean it, Auggie.”
The others were not pleased with my announcement. “This day is the same as any day, Herman,” Earl pointed out. “We get to stare out the window. What will change even if it is our day?”
“We will photosynthesize extra amounts of oxygen…?” I supplied helpfully. “Come on, guys. We’ve got to do something! Look, the tall person even marked the calendar.”
Basil sighed. “It’s not that we don’t want to celebrate. We do. But there’s nothing to celebrate. We’re stuck in the same pots, soaking up the same sunlight, talking to the same plants, day after day after day!”
“Basil, don’t say that! A plant in my condition needs this holiday. Sometimes it’s nice to be appreciated, even if you’re sick and might wither up and die soon,” Auggie pleaded.
Basil turned another shade of green. “I didn’t mean it, Auggie.”
Way of the Cacti
By Anica Lest, Grade 7
“Good morning! It’s 8:30 on this fine day, which also happens to be our day!” I announced brightly. Auggie (a forget-me-not), Basil, Earl (a pine), and Bamboo stirred softly.
The others were not pleased with my announcement. “This day is the same as any day, Herman,” Earl pointed out. “We get to stare out the window. What will change even if it is our day?”
“We will photosynthesize extra amounts of oxygen…?” I supplied helpfully. “Come on, guys. We’ve got to do something! Look, the tall person even marked the calendar.”
Basil sighed. “It’s not that we don’t want to celebrate. We do. But there’s nothing to celebrate. We’re stuck in the same pots, soaking up the same sunlight, talking to the same plants, day after day after day!”
“Basil, don’t say that! A plant in my condition needs this holiday. Sometimes it’s nice to be appreciated, even if you’re sick and might wither up and die soon,” Auggie pleaded.
Basil turned another shade of green. “I didn’t mean it, Auggie.”
The others were not pleased with my announcement. “This day is the same as any day, Herman,” Earl pointed out. “We get to stare out the window. What will change even if it is our day?”
“We will photosynthesize extra amounts of oxygen…?” I supplied helpfully. “Come on, guys. We’ve got to do something! Look, the tall person even marked the calendar.”
Basil sighed. “It’s not that we don’t want to celebrate. We do. But there’s nothing to celebrate. We’re stuck in the same pots, soaking up the same sunlight, talking to the same plants, day after day after day!”
“Basil, don’t say that! A plant in my condition needs this holiday. Sometimes it’s nice to be appreciated, even if you’re sick and might wither up and die soon,” Auggie pleaded.
Basil turned another shade of green. “I didn’t mean it, Auggie.”
Bamboo turned to me. “Herman, if you didn’t notice, we’re plants. And you’re a cactus. How are you supposed to celebrate? We can’t exactly throw a party…”
“Sure we can! The human will help us. They are the ones who marked the calendar! Maybe they’ll think of something.”
Earl stared at the calendar. “How do you read these things anyways?”
I sighed. “Look guys, I don’t know if we can celebrate like people or animals, or even bacteria. We’ll celebrate in a new way.”
“How?” Auggie asked.
The doorbell rang before I could answer.
The human strolled over to the door, and opened it with happiness. “Oh, good. I’m glad you could all come!”
Bamboo and I looked at each other. What was going on? Other humans filed through the door (seven in total), each with a pot in their hand. And in each pot, was a houseplant.
“Why, I know how we’re going to celebrate,” my voice barely above a whisper. I felt a tingle go through my needles. “The humans are throwing us a party.”
“Sure we can! The human will help us. They are the ones who marked the calendar! Maybe they’ll think of something.”
Earl stared at the calendar. “How do you read these things anyways?”
I sighed. “Look guys, I don’t know if we can celebrate like people or animals, or even bacteria. We’ll celebrate in a new way.”
“How?” Auggie asked.
The doorbell rang before I could answer.
The human strolled over to the door, and opened it with happiness. “Oh, good. I’m glad you could all come!”
Bamboo and I looked at each other. What was going on? Other humans filed through the door (seven in total), each with a pot in their hand. And in each pot, was a houseplant.
“Why, I know how we’re going to celebrate,” my voice barely above a whisper. I felt a tingle go through my needles. “The humans are throwing us a party.”