Page 9 - My FlipBook

In my imagination, the stick became a long,

curved sword that was created by a master

craftsman. As the waves of enemies came at

me, I sliced their heads off and added them to
my collection. I soon gathered over a hundred,

each with an identical expression of terror

mixed with grudging respect.

The final line of enemies surged forward in a

last, desperate attempt to beat me, but I rushed

out to meet them with my blade so high that

the sky itself was carved in two.

A ripping noise took me out of my fantasy. I

turned around and saw I’d torn the back of my
robe on one of the jagged rocks.

I knew that honesty is part of the way of the

samurai, so I trekked home and admitted what

I’d done to Mother.

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