AN: going through my stiff, and I found this in my bag…Its another outer-limits-sy thing… .rr please?

What Happened 3 Saturday's From Today

As I sit here staring at this white sheet of paper, I feel saddened, because as I pick u the pencil that will eventually bring a smile to my face, I know I have killed a tree just to mark up such a pretty piece of paper.

"What are you writing?" a young boy asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Just my thoughts, young one. Now go and play." I said gently

"But I don't like the games." He said.

"Don't start a sentence with a conjunction." I growled, out of habit. "Why don't you like the games?"

"I would rather listen to a story or poem." He said. "I would read them myself, but I can't read."

"I'll read to you if you like." I offered setting down my notebook and pencil.

"Will you?" he asked, his face immediately brightening.

"Sure, hand me your book." I said smiling.

He dug in his bag and pulled out a book. "Here you go."

I looked at the title and smiled, it was the book I got my first publication in.

I read to him for a good half hour or so, reading the different poems and the quotes form the authors. I laughed and cried with him. I gently explained the larger words to him. Then his mother came "Come her Anthony!" she said harshly. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" she then said to me.

"Why, might I ask?" I asked, not aware of what I had done wrong.

"Luring young children to you with a story book." Then she spat "It's sickening!"

"Excuse me," I said as polite as I could, "this is your child's book, ma'am."

"Well, I never!" she exclaimed. "What is your name?!"

"Elaina Taylor" I replied calmly, winking at the child.

"Mommy, mommy!" the little boy said. "She wrote all my favorite poems!"

And with that the women grabbed the book from my hand and marched back to her care.

I smiled and waved to the boy in the care. His name was Anthony I used to baby-sit him. His mother did not recognize me.