Writings
I have over 90 MB of writing. Due to compatibility issues, all text is in
txt format. Some information may have been deleted or altered.
txt format. Some information may have been deleted or altered.
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This area is under development.
website is only a fraction of what I've written. Usually, my voluntary
longest work, still unfinished, at 5,000 words and 8 pages."joy
writing" sounds philosophical. Other times, I write fiction, my longest
work, still unfinished, at 5,000 words and 8 pages.
website is only a fraction of what I've written. Usually, my voluntary
longest work, still unfinished, at 5,000 words and 8 pages."joy
writing" sounds philosophical. Other times, I write fiction, my longest
work, still unfinished, at 5,000 words and 8 pages.
An excerpt from my unfinished story about a Time-Transport goop:
My head hit the pillow hard with thoughts about food.
My dad started shaking me. At first I thought I was in my elevator, but then I realized I was on my bed. I
desperately tried to hang onto that last bit of sleep I had. Finally, as it fell away to the bottom of time, I
opened one eye.
“Roy,” my dad shouted, “Roy, wake up. Didn’t you want to buy a egg cheese and bacon?”
“It’s bacon egg and cheese!” I moaned. I got up and got dressed. While brushing my teeth I thought
about my dream. It had been about time. Some sort of goop that transported you anywhere. Too bad it
had just been a dream. I tried replaying it in my mind on the bus ride to school while eating my sandwich.
As I heaved my bulging bag up the last flight of stairs, I turned my mind to the day ahead. Of course it
was the same thing over and over again. I turned off my cell phone, gulped, and walked down the hall.
Just as I expected, Kyle Masanto was waiting for me. I groaned and handed him two bucks. He thanked
me, patted me on my back, and went off. You never fought with Kyle. He’d choke you with his pinky.
It was impossible to stay awake during social studies. Ms. Gromps droned on and on about how you
had to write the date on everything. She was obsessed with the aesthetics of her classes. When she
checked your homework, you could bet that she’d be looking for the “proper heading” and a title. She
couldn’t care less about what was actually on your paper. Some of the jocks in my class simply put the
heading on their English homework to get a full score.
“Roy Hannigan,” she said to me, “Sit up. Your fly’s open. Get the edge of your binder off Brendan’s
desk, you’re annoying him.” Blah, blah, Roy, do Blah, go blah some more, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Then she played this boring video about William Harrison, some guy who made a clock back then. The
video looked like it was from the eighties. I kept dozing off. To keep myself awake, I started doodling in my
binder. I titled it “NERDS VERSUS GEEKS.” It was so funny I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
The nerds were all using math, the geeks were using computers. As a finishing touch I drew some punks
to disrupt both sides.
When social studies ended, I had Science. Mr. Wotomo was awesome. His lessons were always exiting,
full of jokes and action. Usually his jokes were euphemisms for the word “dead.” Sometimes he’d call on
only boys, other times he’d only call on girls. He always called up volunteers. I wasn’t called often. I guess
my arm is just too short.
Today he talked about food webs. He was by far the most cutting-edge teacher I knew. While my art
teacher couldn’t even get online, he had his own laptop and projector on his own little cart. Most teachers
borrowed them from the school. Along with this he always had a Palm Pilot in his pocket. He took
advantage of the interactive boards in the school, every lesson he taught used one. This time he used it
to circle the different animals to show us what would happen if it became extinct.
Then we had Math. You could never keep up with Mrs. Craptor. She’d fill up your notes with little details
like, “if and only if.” They clouded up her lessons so much that you couldn’t learn anything. It was
pointless trying to copy down the board because she wrote so fast. She’d always be trying to spy on you,
to see what you did. When she put a problem on the board, she would walk around the room, looking at
your behavior from behind. Then, when she finished her round, she’d tell the class who did what wrong.
Once I actually caught her trying to look at my homework which I’d covered with my hand.
After class, I joined Michael and Albert to head to Salvatore’s for a pizza. On my way to the stairwell, I
noticed a cardboard box by the Spanish department, room 521. On it was a post-it note that read,
“Basura”.
“Albert, what’s Basura mean?” I asked. Albert knew everything, so much that sometimes it got annoying.
“La basura es todo aquello considered como desecho y que se necesita eliminar. La basura es un
producto de las actividades humanas al cual se le considera sin valor, repugnante e indeseable por lo
cual normalmente se le incinera o se le coloca en lugares predestinados para la recolección para ser
canalizada a tiraderos o vertederos, rellenos sanitarios u otro lugar,” he said.
“In English!” I shouted.
“Well, basically it means garbage in Spanish,” he replied.
Just out of curiosity, I opened a flap of the box. All I saw were Styrofoam peanuts. I brushed them away,
to reveal the corner of another box. It was wrapped in shiny plastic and sealed with tape.
“A lot of protection for a basura,” suggested Michael, “c’mon, lets go get some pizza.” He and Albert
started walking off.
“Hold on, wait,” I called. I lifted out the inside box. It looked like one of those boxes that held fancy
computer programs. But the name blew me off. It read, “TIMEGEL V.5.5.”
“Whoa,” said Michael, “pizzas gotta wait.”
At out lockers, we carefully examined the box. On the skinny side, it said:
This message is all-language compatible. This box is self-recycling.
Timegel is a portal-forming gel that can transport any material object to a previous time. Version 5.5
adds an undo feature, and a built in, multiple-language translator. Timegel is an open-ended project by
the Cramdionians: Kingdom four, planet Haxdemolasias. This set includes:
• 2 Timegel balls
• Manual
• Trial size paper. Paper is a rare substance created by the humans on planet Earth. Please visit
Earth to order more.
• Exclusive: Guide to Time, By Shicctombamqui Runhatghus.
“Wow. Albert Einstein could explain this,” muttered Albert.
“Oh, shut up.” I turned it over. On the back was a detailed list of the functions.
“Let’s go, I’m starved!” moaned Michael.
“Okay, Okay,” I said. I stuffed the box in my bag and went off with them.
At recess, we looked at the Timegel again. We had bought the pizza as quick as we could to have time for
the Timegel.
”You ready?” I asked.
“I guess,” Albert said.
Unfortunately, I don't have time to continue writing. Thanks everybody for doing flash reviews
of the story from my Palm and for all the wonderful feedback!
My head hit the pillow hard with thoughts about food.
My dad started shaking me. At first I thought I was in my elevator, but then I realized I was on my bed. I
desperately tried to hang onto that last bit of sleep I had. Finally, as it fell away to the bottom of time, I
opened one eye.
“Roy,” my dad shouted, “Roy, wake up. Didn’t you want to buy a egg cheese and bacon?”
“It’s bacon egg and cheese!” I moaned. I got up and got dressed. While brushing my teeth I thought
about my dream. It had been about time. Some sort of goop that transported you anywhere. Too bad it
had just been a dream. I tried replaying it in my mind on the bus ride to school while eating my sandwich.
As I heaved my bulging bag up the last flight of stairs, I turned my mind to the day ahead. Of course it
was the same thing over and over again. I turned off my cell phone, gulped, and walked down the hall.
Just as I expected, Kyle Masanto was waiting for me. I groaned and handed him two bucks. He thanked
me, patted me on my back, and went off. You never fought with Kyle. He’d choke you with his pinky.
It was impossible to stay awake during social studies. Ms. Gromps droned on and on about how you
had to write the date on everything. She was obsessed with the aesthetics of her classes. When she
checked your homework, you could bet that she’d be looking for the “proper heading” and a title. She
couldn’t care less about what was actually on your paper. Some of the jocks in my class simply put the
heading on their English homework to get a full score.
“Roy Hannigan,” she said to me, “Sit up. Your fly’s open. Get the edge of your binder off Brendan’s
desk, you’re annoying him.” Blah, blah, Roy, do Blah, go blah some more, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Then she played this boring video about William Harrison, some guy who made a clock back then. The
video looked like it was from the eighties. I kept dozing off. To keep myself awake, I started doodling in my
binder. I titled it “NERDS VERSUS GEEKS.” It was so funny I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
The nerds were all using math, the geeks were using computers. As a finishing touch I drew some punks
to disrupt both sides.
When social studies ended, I had Science. Mr. Wotomo was awesome. His lessons were always exiting,
full of jokes and action. Usually his jokes were euphemisms for the word “dead.” Sometimes he’d call on
only boys, other times he’d only call on girls. He always called up volunteers. I wasn’t called often. I guess
my arm is just too short.
Today he talked about food webs. He was by far the most cutting-edge teacher I knew. While my art
teacher couldn’t even get online, he had his own laptop and projector on his own little cart. Most teachers
borrowed them from the school. Along with this he always had a Palm Pilot in his pocket. He took
advantage of the interactive boards in the school, every lesson he taught used one. This time he used it
to circle the different animals to show us what would happen if it became extinct.
Then we had Math. You could never keep up with Mrs. Craptor. She’d fill up your notes with little details
like, “if and only if.” They clouded up her lessons so much that you couldn’t learn anything. It was
pointless trying to copy down the board because she wrote so fast. She’d always be trying to spy on you,
to see what you did. When she put a problem on the board, she would walk around the room, looking at
your behavior from behind. Then, when she finished her round, she’d tell the class who did what wrong.
Once I actually caught her trying to look at my homework which I’d covered with my hand.
After class, I joined Michael and Albert to head to Salvatore’s for a pizza. On my way to the stairwell, I
noticed a cardboard box by the Spanish department, room 521. On it was a post-it note that read,
“Basura”.
“Albert, what’s Basura mean?” I asked. Albert knew everything, so much that sometimes it got annoying.
“La basura es todo aquello considered como desecho y que se necesita eliminar. La basura es un
producto de las actividades humanas al cual se le considera sin valor, repugnante e indeseable por lo
cual normalmente se le incinera o se le coloca en lugares predestinados para la recolección para ser
canalizada a tiraderos o vertederos, rellenos sanitarios u otro lugar,” he said.
“In English!” I shouted.
“Well, basically it means garbage in Spanish,” he replied.
Just out of curiosity, I opened a flap of the box. All I saw were Styrofoam peanuts. I brushed them away,
to reveal the corner of another box. It was wrapped in shiny plastic and sealed with tape.
“A lot of protection for a basura,” suggested Michael, “c’mon, lets go get some pizza.” He and Albert
started walking off.
“Hold on, wait,” I called. I lifted out the inside box. It looked like one of those boxes that held fancy
computer programs. But the name blew me off. It read, “TIMEGEL V.5.5.”
“Whoa,” said Michael, “pizzas gotta wait.”
At out lockers, we carefully examined the box. On the skinny side, it said:
This message is all-language compatible. This box is self-recycling.
Timegel is a portal-forming gel that can transport any material object to a previous time. Version 5.5
adds an undo feature, and a built in, multiple-language translator. Timegel is an open-ended project by
the Cramdionians: Kingdom four, planet Haxdemolasias. This set includes:
• 2 Timegel balls
• Manual
• Trial size paper. Paper is a rare substance created by the humans on planet Earth. Please visit
Earth to order more.
• Exclusive: Guide to Time, By Shicctombamqui Runhatghus.
“Wow. Albert Einstein could explain this,” muttered Albert.
“Oh, shut up.” I turned it over. On the back was a detailed list of the functions.
“Let’s go, I’m starved!” moaned Michael.
“Okay, Okay,” I said. I stuffed the box in my bag and went off with them.
At recess, we looked at the Timegel again. We had bought the pizza as quick as we could to have time for
the Timegel.
”You ready?” I asked.
“I guess,” Albert said.
Unfortunately, I don't have time to continue writing. Thanks everybody for doing flash reviews
of the story from my Palm and for all the wonderful feedback!