Posted by: mattintw886 | March 25, 2011

My new short story: “An Unforgettable Experience”

I wrote it for a teacher in Taichung whose children are too lazy to write their own speeches. But, hey I get salary to do this crap, but for the record… I wrote it, not some snotty little ESL kid in Taichung.

An Unforgettable Experience

Written by Matthew Clark

Sometimes, I like to just lay back and remember the old days. I remember one day when my best friend came over to my house. We ate some pizza and some tofu balls, and we stepped outside after lunch.

As we were walking to play basketball together, we saw a strange looking old woman huddled in an alley. She had a little dog next to her that she was petting. The old woman wore a dirty old shirt and some sweat pants, and she was sitting on a blanket. The dog was a dusty-looking black and white terrier. It had short hair and cute floppy oversized ears.

My friend passed the basketball to me, but I was looking at the dog. The ball sailed past me and struck the old woman in the head. She shrieked in pain. Then she pulled out a giant, sharp looking machete from her wicker purse!! Her little dog snarled at us. She picked up our basketball and waved her knife at us. “YOU SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL, LITTLE ONE!” She yelled.

My best friend and I stared at each other in shock, and then we turned and ran. Her little dog followed us, yapping and snarling at our heels. The old woman took the ball and threw it over us… the ball went past us and down the road was the basketball court. It must have been 70 meters away and this old woman got the ball in the hoop!

The old woman got a swish! I couldn’t believe it! She was like Larry Bird, reborn! I turned around. “Old woman! I am sorry! Please don’t hurt us!” She bared her dirty, brown moldy looking teeth at me and barked at her dog. “Down, Muffet! Down!” The dusty little terrier snarled one more time at my sneakers and went back to the old woman. She still held the large knife, pointing it at me.

“You had best be sorry, young man. You young people have no respect.” She put the knife back in her wicker handbag and turned around. “Old woman, can you tell us how you got the ball in the net from so far away?”

“You need to practice,” she croaked at me.

“Can you teach us how to play basketball, old woman?”

She turned around, her wrinkled face cracking into a feral crazed grin.

“Yes… I think I could teach you a few things.”

From that day, Mildred taught my friend and I how to throw, pass and handle our machetes like pirate ninjas. I will never forget the day I met that crazy old woman.



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