An English assignment

Why, oh why do we still keep on writing these things?
A story by Stella Säfström 2009 -(warning! this is an assignment based on the Malmo-festival in 2009. this is not something new and fresh. this is old and cold. but soon a new episode of bewitched. stay tuned for more)

As I walk down the streets of my city it feels like everything is alive, as it would have slept for a very long time. But as I sit down at my computer I’m realizing that, the sound is annoying, I can not sleep. The sound of the drums bounces of, away from the stage and in to my bedroom. It vibrates, my head gets spooky and a feeling of a strong headache starts to speak its way into my thoughts. God damn it, its school tomorrow and some rap-artist destroys my night. Well, let’s not get negative here.

For starters I can’t write this essay without telling you, my dear reader, what is going on in this town. Because, as you might guess, there isn’t a rap-artist playing stupid music all night long in front of a screaming audience every single night of the year. No, this only happens one time a year. One week to be more exact. This ‘thing’ is the Malmoe-festival. It’s a time where people come to sell stupid things, play stupid music and eat weird food. And it’s fantastic.
Or well, I used to think so.


I went out this afternoon with a couple of friends, this is my story;

Everywhere I look, there are people. But it’s not crowded, not at all like it was last year. The festival has partly moved to other places in town. So, not enough people for my taste. When I look at my friends they seem rather happy about this fact. Less people, less loud, less annoyingness. Is that even a word? Well I don’t care, this is a stupid assignment. Well, I like writing so I’ll keep on writing.
Or well, my friends… some of them seem to hate this festival. I don’t really get why, there’s something about it that annoys them.

We walk past people selling African masks, pearls, weird, beans, ugly hats, ugly shirts, all those kinds of things. I don’t enjoy the walk. My legs start to hurt slowly, and the smell of smoke isn’t my cup of tea. I hear people talking about the things they see, I hear my friends speaking about what they think. I don’t talk much. I have nothing to say. I don’t feel like talking anyhow… Well, after looking at nothing, which actually is kind of fun, I have to stop lying, there comes a couple of people we know about. We wave and nothing else happens. After my feet starts hurting I slowly return home.

After a while I walk out again, I walk around and I suddenly feel so hungry. I find two of my other friends. And lucky me, they are hungry too. So they bought a vegetarian hotdog. It didn’t taste very good. The “food” fell apart in my mouth. It burnt my tongue a bit at first too. The hot dog was salty and tasted like… Well, I don’t know how to describe how it tasted but it sure did not taste like a hot dog should taste.

We have nothing to do… But we are hungry for churros, a kind of candy or desert. They are like long thick wavy chocolate-sprayed sticks. It smelled like fat and chocolate, but it tasted really good.
Everywhere we went people looked and laughed at my friend, she has a… special style. It was kind of fun, I guess we don’t care if the ugly people laugh at us. I know they would like to dare. Now I make no sense so, I just went home. That’s all you have to know.

My story ends here. Thank you.

(When my English teacher read this she gave me (of course) an A+. But she had a small comment to my story. Why is it stupid? Well Im so sorry. I was just a bit fed up. Aren't you? I guessed so. But still. Good practise.) Good laugh, good laugh.