Tag: story

The story of Macbeth

By 10kayleighg

It all starts with the three witches that say ” When shall we three meet again? In thunder lighting or in rain? When the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won. Meanwhile Macbeth is fighting a battle for the king.

On Macbeth’s way back to his castle with Banquo , they spot three creepy witches appear from thin air. The witches say some unusual things “All hale,Macbeth, Thane of Glamis ” , Which Macbeth is, “All hale, Macbeth, thane of Cawdor”  ,Which he isn’t, ” All hale, Macbeth, who shall be king ” ,Which he isn’t and was really surprised when the Witches said that. They also chanted to Banquo “All hale, Banquo, who’s sons shall be kings!”  Then they vanished in a flash.

After that a messenger came told Macbeth he was going to be Thane of Cawdor, which is what the witches said!

Macbeth wrote a letter to his wife telling her about the witches and arrived home soon after he was awarded the medal. They chatted for a while until Lady Macbeth had an idea to kill  the king when  he went round there.

They proceeded with the plan until the deed was done. Mcduff, another solider, found out and killed Macbeth!!!

The weathered Record

By lucile56

The Weathered Record

A Short Story
by RILEY

JEFF HARVEY looked at the weathered record in his hands and felt healthy.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. He had always loved SAD LONDON with its greasy, gigantic GLASS. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel healthy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of BOB HARVEY. BOB was a splendid saint with brown moles and brunette abs.

JEFF gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a spiteful, cowardly, port drinker with red moles and hairy abs. His friends saw him as a doubtful, deafening dolphin. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved an impossible puppy.

But not even a spiteful person who had once jumped into a river and saved an impossible puppy, was prepared for what BOB had in store today.

The clouds danced like singing maggots, making JEFF anxious.

As JEFF stepped outside and BOB came closer, he could see the heavy glint in his eye.

BOB glared with all the wrath of 7359 witty comfortable cats. He said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want LOVE.”

JEFF looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the weathered record. “BOB, I LOVE YOU,” he replied.

They looked at each other with calm feelings, like two mutated, melodic mice laughing at a very thoughtful wedding, which had piano music playing in the background and two clever uncles boating to the beat.

JEFF studied BOB’s brown moles and brunette abs. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” began JEFF in apologetic tones, “but I don’t feel the same way, and I never will. I just don’t hate you BOB.”

BOB looked anxious, his emotions raw like a rabblesnatching, racid record.

JEFF could actually hear BOB’s emotions shatter into 6355 pieces. Then the splendid saint hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of port would calm JEFF’s nerves tonight.

THE END