Mushy and Green

4 May

By Ian Zwerling
7th Grade

At first glance it looks like mush. Just some random things pushed together. It looks hardly edible and smells like an uncleaned horse pen. But when you taste it the flavor explodes. The tartness of the strawberry fills your mouth as though you were eating them right off of the bush. Then comes lemon, very sour yet sweet in its own way. Your lips pucker as the taste moves over your tongue. Finally the coconut, bringing back memories of when you went to Hawaii. All of those flavors clash, creating one super flavor. Sweet, sour, and nice. You smile as it moves down your throat.

The wait felt eternal. I waited in bed for my mom. Finally my mom came in and gave me a good-night kiss. It was when she left that I really started to wait. After what felt like the whole night, it started.

Smoothies are mushy and green.

The bed slowly began to move, creaking like an old staircase. Just this noise was enough to put me on edge and I began to get nervous. I reached for my blankets and pulled them up and over my head, hoping this would prevent an encounter with The Octopus.

When I thought it was over, I pushed my blankets down, only to jerk my hand back when it touched something mushy. Out of the faint light I could see that it was a slight shade of green. Mushy and green. Hmmm, that reminds me of my mom’s smoothies.

Smoothies are smooth but also thick.

Then I heard it. I heard the slow slithering of an octopus. Its tentacles moved back and forth across the floor. The tentacles moved swiftly and smoothly, but they were thick so they couldn’t fit into the small spaces of my room. Smooth and thick. Smooth and thick. Again, just like a smoothie. This was like an octopus smoothie.

Success has unlimited flavors.

I heard the octopus move toward the edge of my bed. Intent on keeping it at bay, I grabbed my automatic Nerf gun and fired off a round. (Yes, I came prepared.)

Hearing the noise, my parents came rushing into my room, “What on Earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping the octopus out,” I replied.

“Give me the gun,” my dad said.

Reluctantly I handed it over.

“Now get some sleep,” they said.

It was when they left that I made my second move. I grabbed a flashlight, turned it on, and looked under the bed. To my surprise, no one was there. I went to bed, my mouth filled with the umlimited flavors of success. Who knew it could taste so good?


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