You're my Coney Island Baby

Moments in literature...from the life of Bubblegum & Taffy. Thank you to Marilyn Allen for keeping excellent scrapbooks.

Age 6, first grade

My name is Sarah Allen. I am a girl. I live at 761 Yorkshire Road. I like animals.

Age 7, first grade (totally flipped out over the recent discovery of punctuation, which I STILL love).

One. day. John's tooth was feeling loose. When he ate. an apple. it came out!!! He put it under. his pillow!!!! The next day. there was a quarter. The End!!!!!

The Witches, by Sarah Allen, age 10.

For as long as I can remember, I had been a witch for Halloween. My Mom suggested I be a goblin or a pumpkin, or ANYTHING but a witch, but I wanted to be a witch again. My brother Jack and I set out to collect our candy. I walked slower than usual behind him and my Dad. All of a sudden I felt a boney finger tapping my shoulder. I turned around and discovered another witch! She looked just like me! She had a long green nose with warts that didn't pull off when I pulled them. "Trade places with me" she hissed. She grabbed my candy bag and jammed her broom into my hands. All of a sudden I shot into the air. I held on as best I could, but I almost feel off. I discovered I didn't really have to steer the broom. It just went by itself. Then the broom gently floated down next to a black cauldron. (Etc. etc. This story is longer than I thought. To summarize, I have a wild time being mistaken as the witch and she as me, and I'm left wondering, Good Lord, what will happen if I'm a goblin next year?! The End.)

There is no sign in the scrapbooks of my three chapter masterpiece from fifth grade, which featured such mature topics as a teenager that drank beer and was rude to her parents and then was brought back to living a wholesome life when she realized she had magical healing powers and wanted to help the world. It was called _The Healer_. I bet my mom threw it away when she saw there was beer drinking.

*This update typed while listening to the Brooklyn Doo Wop Collection (thanks to Sean Howe, Park Slope wireless internet thief).