The Annual Noun Census
Nelson is running the Annual Noun Census from his Filing Annex. He counts every noun in town, and he insists on the precise one. Fill in the missing nouns so the census balances.
Nelson's ledger is open. When you save, he files your census, down to the last letter.
Your story is ready. Here is what Nelson read.
Tap or hover over any blue word to see what kind of word you chose.
Every fifth spring, Nelson conducted the Annual Noun Census from his Filing Annex on the second floor.
The Annex was wall-to-wall cabinets, each drawer labeled in his careful hand. The platypus dozed on a stack of .
"Census time," Nelson said, sharpening his pencil. "I count every noun in town, precisely."
The first resident shuffled in. "I brought a ," she said. Nelson frowned. "Too vague. Name the exact one." She tried again, a , and Nelson nodded. "Specific nouns file faster."
A cart rolled past, loaded with crates of and . Nelson logged each plural, minding every spelling rule.
A whole of musicians crowded the doorway. "Collective noun. Singular when they play as one, plural when they squabble." They were squabbling.
Someone wheeled in , a proper noun so specific it wore capital letters. Nelson approved.
The platypus tipped a box of across the floor. Nelson counted each one, then turned a single into its correct plural without a stumble.
A baker hurried past balancing a , a compound noun stacked two words high.
By dusk he had recorded a precise , a gleaming , a battered , and the rarest entry of the day: , which nobody could describe.
"Name it exactly," Nelson insisted, "or it does not count." The resident found the perfect , and Nelson smiled.
He closed the ledger and named the settling over the Annex, then the quiet of a job done right, and one last he could not explain.
"Census complete. Every noun accounted for, down to the last letter."
Other kids have filled in this story too.