When I was in the seventh grade, we had an English teacher; her name was Mrs. Miller. Our assingment was to write a short story about anything we wanted. I wrote a story about a Mustang and a Corvette sitting at a red light. The suspense built up, as the adrenalin, RPMs and the smell of exhaust mixed together. At the end of the story, you didn't know if the Corvette was ever there; or if it was a ghost. When I received the paper back the next day, it was more...
