Mood Practice 1

Trey looked out the window. The rain was still pouring down. He threw his baseball glove on the couch with a sigh. The thunder cracked and his phone dinged. Trey picked up the phone. It was a message from his cousin: The game is cancelled because of the weather. Trey didn't reply to the message. He threw the phone back on his bed and rubbed his temples. The rain pattered on the roof.

Brett sweated in his chair. The clock in the classroom ticked loudly. Brett looked at the test question again. He had no clue what the answer was. His teacher paced around the room. Brett felt like the teacher was circling him, specifically him, not the rest of the class. "Remember, this test determines your future," the teacher said. Brett read the choices again but they all blurred into a meaningless word soup. He could not concentrate. The clock kept ticking, and the second hand sounded like a butcher's knife slamming down on a cutting board. "Time is running out," said the teacher. Brett's heart pounded.

Kiki the Cat licked her lips and stared at Bitty the Bird, who was singing a silly bird song in her cage. Cartoon noises played in the background as the children watched TV. Kiki tiptoed to the edge of the kitchen counter. Bitty kept singing, unaware of the creeping cat, but aware that she was protected by the metal birdcage. Kiki went for it. She sprang toward the birdcage, but as she did she slipped on some milk on the counter that the children had spilled. Kiki fell off the counter and landed in the trashcan. The lid closed on the milk-covered kitty. Laughter played on the television. Bitty kept whistling.

We thought the game was over. The buzzer rang and we thought that we had lost, but then the referee blew the whistle. A foul was called and now Derrick had a chance to win the game for us. He stepped up to the free-throw line. The stadium, though filled with people, was completely silent. Everyone was still. Derrick dribbled the ball a couple times. He squared up on the line. Sweat beaded on his forehead. All eyes were on Derrick.

Katie cut out the construction paper heart with great care. Her hand moved with precision. This was not going to be an ordinary Valentines Day card. Katie was going to make it special. She went over the penciled letters with her nicest pen. Classical music played in the background. Katie made fancy cursive letters. Slowly, gently, she pasted the lace to the edges of the heart. Her mom was going to love this card as much as Katie loved her. It was almost complete. Just a few more special touches to go.

Duncan balled his test paper and threw it in the trash. He hit the bed with a crash and started crying. "I don't care anymore," screamed Duncan in between sobs. He wished that somebody would check on him, that someone would help him through this, but there was no one. He was home alone again. "What does it matter?" he screamed. Nobody responded. The house was empty. Duncan's sobs echoed.

Farmer Dave woke to the sound of the rooster's crow. The sun was peaking over the horizon. Dave wasted no time getting ready. He wanted to get to the field and start planting. The TV news prattled on while his wife made coffee. He paid no mind to either. He was working out his strategy for today, going over the rows in his mind. He had barely taken two bites of his toast when he grabbed his boots. "I've got to get a move on it," said Farmer Dave. His wife rolled her eyes and gave him a kiss. The day began.

Thomas walked into the kitchen and the smell of fresh baked cookies filled his nose and lifted his heart. "Thomas? Are you home already?" asked his mom. "Yeah, Mom, I've got some homework to do." She gave Thomas a big warm hug and said, "I wanted to surprise you with some cookies." Thomas smiled and said, "You did, Mom. What a great surprise." He took a bite of one and the gooey chocolate chips dissolved on his tongue.

The cold wind whipped as Stanton raced against it. This was no night for a calm ride. The horse's hooves clicked as Stanton whipped the reins. He clutched the king's message in one hand and his crossbow in the other. A wolf howled. He saw motion in the bushes ahead. Not a good sign. It could be an ambush. Stanton extended his finger over the trigger of the crossbow. More wolves howled together.

Jane stretched her arms out and relaxed in the grassy field. The sun warmed her skin and the breeze tussled her hair. The insects hummed and worked and while the world turned, Jane did nothing at all. She took a deep breath and let it fall from her lungs. The brook trickled its secrets and the sounds of nature blended into the symphony of the spring. Jane was in no hurry at all. She was at rest.