Creative Response

He turned sixteen years old on June 2, 1876. It was the beginning of summer and all he wanted was that ruby red, shiny bright ford that was for sale across the street. He had his eye on her for over a month now and told his momma about her every day. Every penny that he found or earned was put into that glass jar that was shown off on his red nightstand. Every week he would count the money and hope it would be enough to buy his dream—but it never added up how he wanted.

The dirt swept across their long dirt driveway day in and day out. He got his license on the day he became of age, but he didn’t have a car to drive. Mom had her car that she drove to work and dad had his beaten down car that he had to drive to the lumberyard. He decided to go over to the house across the street and ask if he could just look at the ruby red, shiny bright ford and sit in the drivers seat to dream about one day it being his. So he picked his little butt off the couch and headed over.

The neighbors were glad that he came to visit and even let him take the car down the road and back. He pictured himself in this car every day, even just driving to the grocery store lookin’ like a stud. He drove the car back and told the neighbors how this was his beauty he had always dreamed of and then sadly walked back to his house with his back hunched over. He sat on his bed, pulled out all of the money in the jar on his red nightstand and counted it out. The money didn’t add up how he wanted to, so he went to sleep with dreams of him back in the ruby red, shiny bright ford.