The Civil War

He was shot. It was a simple observation. For the man ,or in reality the boy, it was the only observation. People say that when you are close to death that the world seems to slow down.This is a lie.For the boy the world stopped and then restarted at twice the speed. When it slowed the rest of the fighting was over and all that was left was devastation .He slowly,painfully, sat up and he looked down to where he was sure the musket ball had hit.Instead of the blood that he had expected there was fluffy down. He chuckled to himself. He had put the pillow there to make himself appear older. This effect was added to by the dogs hair glued to his chin. It was not the pillow alone that had saved him it was also the range of the sniper and the hard cover book under the pillow. He was sad for the book, it was his favorite, The Iliad, but all the same the book had served a final purpose. He chuckled again at his luck and got up to his feet. He was then shot. The North had not won this battle so the jumpy sentry, a Johny-Reb, had only seen a Yankee standing from a pile of the dead.

Genre

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The Creation of Sand

Air, Earth, and Fire all came together and gave their worst attributes, but their most powerful.  Out of this union, sand was born.  Sand, a merciless, cruel creature and constantly expanding.  To stop their terrible child, the three entities that had created the beast caged it in, even bringing in their least favorite sibling, Water.  So with oceans, mountains,  and forests, the great mistake was stopped.  After a while, the thing stopped its raging and calmed to a monotone, and even let people into it.  This land was Africa and the head of this was Egypt.

The birds beak was finally taking shape which had taken longer than the boy had expected ,the mud wasn't very good for details even with a sharpened stick. It was not the boys first stick but this was the one that hadn't broken. The bird was quite good for a five and a half year old  
''LEONARDO!!'' Came the careening cry. Leonardo sprang to his feet startled. It was a very loud sound for such a quiet field. He inadvertently stepped on his bird ruining it. It was disappointing for the boy but not worthy of his tears. He headed for the sound of his mother wondering what was so important. His mother wanted to get him ready he was about to go to his fathers to live there. He would have to leave Vinci and that was also sad for the boy. But were it not for this move the great artist that we know would never have lived.





Leonardo Da'Vinci died in the court of France on May 2, 1519 at the age of sixty seven.A land far away from his beloved Italy