My mind has been filled with endless thoughts of paranormal thoughts in this old wrecked house.
Under the rug two weeks passed and it happened again.
It keeps coming back so who knows what it is.
Two weeks passed and it happened again.
Under the rug two weeks passed and it happened again.
Under the rug two weeks passed and it happened again.
A strange day in july he threw with all his might but the third stone came skipping back.
She was with the lord now and i was trying to reminisce in peace but that thing interrupted me.
Missing in venice even with her mighty engines in reverse the ocean liner was pulled further and further into the canal.
The rug once again began to rise.
This is a harris burdick inspired short story so the picture isn t mine.
Two weeks passed and it happened again.
Or he was supposed to be.
A man holding a chair above his head while looking down at a bump under the carpet which has knocked an end table and light askew a strange day in july.
He threw with all his might but the third stone came skipping back.
The picture is called under the rug and the caption is two weeks had passed and it happened again two weeks had passed and it happened again.
Two weeks passed and it happened again.
I never expected to see that obnoxious creature again after i chased him out last time.
A strange day in july he threw with all his might.
His briefcase lay open at his feet papers spewing from it covering the carpet sofa and coffee table.
Under the rug two weeks passed and it happened again.
She died right in front of my eyes.
To this day harris burdick remains a complete.
Under the rug two weeks passed and then it happened again.
Harris burdick was never heard from again.
The man in the picture is trying to hit it with a chair.
Two weeks passed and it happened again.
Under the rug two weeks passed and it happened again.
The following are beginnings of stories constructed under the inspiration of the mysteries of harris burdick by chris van allsburg by students in children s literature class spring 1999.
No matter what he wants to get rid of it.
A lamp with a dying bulb sat on a small table in the corner it s flickering light casting a dying glow across the room.
I was just minding my own business staring at my daughter forever still behind the glass.
Chills and shivers ran down my spine as i stared at the portrait of my beloved.
This house has been empty ever since my wife was murdered.
It might be a ghost of an opossum or maybe it s a lump in the rug.
Inspired by the harris burdick picture.
There was something under the rug.
The first time walt grace didn t know what to do.