For now, this story will be called the Barn Story. I was brainstorming and came up with this brilliant piece. Here it is, down below.

 

Delilah

 

I hated this place. There was no other way to explain it. I just HATED this place.

This was the 7th foster home I had arrived at, and I had no hopes for this family. After all, I had arrived at the most DISGUSTING place on Earth! A barn!

The taxi cab rumbled on a crusty dirt road. Dust trailed us like a loyal dog to his owner.

“Oh, gross!” I murmured.

This place must’ve been SO germy! I held my white, satin, cloth close. It MUST’VE been the only clean thing on me! After 16 hours of opera music and billions of germs, we arrived.

The faded yellow cab stopped in front of a small white house, and a peeling, dark-red barn. I would’ve opened my mouth, but that’s where a lot of bacteria enter. 

Grace and I hopped out. I grimaced as my stomach flipped. This place was NASTY! As the car pulled away, Grace and I took a good look. Green pastors waved in the wind. So much pollen being exalted! Ew! Horses and cows grunted. Had they been cleaned? Eew! Birds cawed above, plopping down… droppings? EEW! I took a shallow breath, clutched my kerchief even tighter, and then we both headed toward the house.