If the Lake Were Glass
It's dawn at Lake Grammaropolis, and nothing is happening, which is exactly how Lucy likes it. Fill in the linking verbs and their complements, and handle the one wish that needs were.
Lucy's still on the dock, holding the boundary post. Finish up and she'll read the morning back, even and unhurried.
Your story is ready. Here is what Lucy read.
Tap or hover over any orange word to see what kind of word you chose.
Lucy reached Lake Grammaropolis at dawn, mostly because she had never left the night before. The water , the dock empty, and the morning like a held breath.
A kid named Theo trudged up, kicked a pebble, and announced that he wished he was somewhere exciting.
"Were," Lucy said. "A wish takes were, man. If you were somewhere exciting, you'd only wish you were back here. Why don't you just sit down and be?"
Theo sat. He pointed at the dock railing, which was broken. "Somebody's crime?" he asked. "Or just its condition," Lucy said. "Same was. The context decides."
By eight the fog . The thermos coffee , and she drank it anyway. Theo by degrees, the way mornings work on people.
"If I in charge of mornings," he said, "they'd start at noon."
"Spoken like a true wish," Lucy said. The lake , and for a long while, everything simply was.
This story has been filled in before.