A Rat Tale Poem by natasha LaTulip aka Gpsi MoonShine

A Rat Tale



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in class, we were givven an assignment to either take something from the daily news paper and write an essay on it or a short story in less then 5 minutes. so, I thought that I would share with you what I wrote.


Teacher's comment: Excellent story! your use of diolog adds flavor and interest



Rat Tale

My name is Mump. I live in this here trailer park, and may I say that I've been itchin' to share some words. I reckin that every dog has its bone and every hay stack has its needle; well, I'm a boy with a rat in my pocket and a story to tell.
It was a hot summer's night when my pals and I went down to the old swimmin' hole. It was our favorite spot. The frogs were always burpin' and the air was always smellin' as sweet as mornin' dew and hickley hay.
It was there that I saw somethin', and there was the beginning pf a wild goose chase. I recon that it was tryin' to te; ; me somethin', but now I'm just gettin' ahead of myself.
We was down in that old creek, waitin' on Billy. He had stollen his old man's corn-huck pipe and some tobackie' and was sapposed tp meet us here beyond and hour ago. So, boys bein' boys, we had to kill some time. We tied an old rope to a tree vranch that hung over the creek. It was perfect for a good swing and jump. Tryin' not to; and on someone's head was the trick.
Rodney was real keen with the critters and was always lookin' around for them in the move of snatchin' our trousers. Rodney always knew where to look and how to run 'em off, and always came with a net and his trusty pocket knife.
Rodney and I were sitten' at the bank when all of a sudden, Rodney jumped up and told the others to hold still and for me to move away slow like. Rodney got down on his knees and whispered, 'There, it's over yonder'. Aftere a few minutes of lookin' and waitin', the boys and I decided to swim again. Ofcourse, I wasn't swimmin' at first, I still had my trousers on, I was sittin' on the bank with Rodney for quit a while.
i decided tp finally leave my trousers on the bank, like we always do, I climbed that old tree, gripped that old rope and plunged into the swimmin' hole. Rodney, still on the bank watchin' critters, ran over to us yellin', ' It's got your trousers Mump, there they go'!
I swear I aint never seen us get outa' that creek quicker than that. Rodney shoulda' caught that critter by now.
I remember him sayin' that the critter was so small, like invisable or somethin', we coudn't find that critter for so long.
My trousers were pretty easy to fallow, but we chased them trousers all over town. When we finally got my trousers, I didn't see no critter runnin; off and Rodney's net was empty, but I didn't think nothin' of it and put my run away trousers back on.
Walkin' home, I found me a smackin' dollar on the road. I picked it up, put it in my pocket and I found me a rat in there!
After a thought or two, it made sence to me why Rodney didn' have a critter in his net and why I didn't see anythin' run off. It was a rat that stole my trousers.
Now, I know that a rat is a rat, but today; I live at age 25 and still have the rat from that old day down at the swimmin' hole. You see, that day was the last day I saw those guys, my old pals; and just between me and you, I hear that Rodney tells the same story, only that he is convinced that it was a ghost that done snatched up my trousers, but we know better.
So, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. My name is Mump and I have a rat in my pocket.


THE END

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