When Gronk Sings |
story & illustration © 2003 Bruce Van Patter | |||||||
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| So now I'm stuck in the grimy, stone cottage of this ogre -- his name is Gronk. It's a good name for him. It's like his voice. He doesn't sing. He gronks. And he tells me I won't be going back to the castle until I teach him to sing. Might as well try to teach a rock to fly.
Today is the fifteenth lesson. I can't take any more. There must a way to make him think he sings like a bird. So, let me think what I've got to work with. Looking around the room, I see these things: an old spinning wheel, creaky with age. (It must have been his mother's.) A chimney that opens to the sky. This morning's stale bread. His fishing net. A wooden table and two chairs. Two straw beds. And his scruffy cat, Grin. He's outside right now. I might have a second to run, if I think I could get something from the woods to help. But somehow, today will be the day. Gronk is going to think he's a singer. |
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| What comes next? - well, well. How interesting! But how will she do it?
Can you think of a way she can make a sound, any sound with those things? Maybe if he hears that sound, he'll think it's beautiful. Or maybe she'll have to catch a bird! Write a funny or exciting ending to this story! And... in music lessons, are you allowed to take notes? Have fun -- finish the story -- and be creative! If you want to, email me your ending! |
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