12 Sentence Short Story

Our future house was a vast wasteland full of mystery, full of excitement, full of nature in the middle of the city, and full of adventure. The woods in the backyard provided a new sense in my life: a sense of adventure filled my mind on one July day. Corbett, my childhood friend, and I decided to explore the woods in the back part of my future house. We descended into the woods, crossed a trash-strewn field, and went down a creek on that summer day. We hoped our parents would not notice our extended absence. Not quite. The thought that we were lost, and that we would crawl out of the woods late at night, and that our lives would be scared with the memory of our ordeal forever raced through the minds of our parents.. The growing worry could not be measured in anger, but the growing anger could be measured in worry. In our future, anger we did not see. Why would we be? However, after resurfacing hours later, we were bombarded with yelling and screaming and red faces and questions of our intentions. Even with the huge amount of ruckus we caused, our bravado about the adventure grew with time, thoughts about a repeat adventure surfaced and surfaced again, and the anger of our parents finally subsided--these are the memories of a great summer day.