blue

I was listening to this song http://www.youtube.com/user/InfantStrange#play/uploads/10/38jtdH_XqwA and I got an idea for a short story.


"The little dead boy"

The first time I layed eyes on the little boy in my yard was when I was 7 years old. I was in the kitchen making cookies with my mother. It was the crisp out side so I put on a coat and took 2 cookies. The boy in the yard was in old fashend clothes little loffers and black vest form the 1800s it seemed. I went up to him he looked like he was my age. I held out a cookie for him. He took a swifed step back in to the garden. I took a bite of my cookie.
"See its good," I told him. He shook his hed. I took the cookies and put them on the bench. Next to the old Weeping willow trees.
"My names Mary," I said holding my hand out like father did when the Smiths moved on to the street. He looked at me like he was worryed. "Its all right I don't bite," the little boy looked at me with his dark eyes they looked as if he haden't sleped in years. He pulled his arm up slowly.