Through a Series of Unfortunate Events
by Sarah E. Southerland
(this is a story AND a puzzle; hidden below are 45 children's (and young adult) book titles. Can you find them all?)
Through a series of unfortunate events, I, all by myself, instead of just shopping with mom, had to walk into town at twilight to buy a few of the caps for sale and maybe some green eggs and ham. Because of Winn Dixie being so far away from the house, I had to walk for awhile. My mom told me not to walk like the poky little puppy, and I was so mad! I stormed down my sidewalk by where the red fern grows and headed onto the street, eating my cookies.
I paused to look at the giving tree in the neighbor’s yard. On one of the leaves was the very hungry caterpillar I had seen on my way home from school; it was still eating.
First on the street was dear Mr. Henshaw, standing where the sidewalk ends outside the graveyard, book in hand.
“Hello, Shane,” he said. “Are you my mother?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not. Go ask
“Be careful,” he yelled at me, “the weatherman says tonight will be cloudy with a chance of meatballs!”
My eyes rolled as a fly went by. I crossed over the tracks of the Polar Express and by the bridge to Terabithia and into town. The first building was the home of the mysterious Benedict society and was right in front of the empty field where the wild things are. Because Frog and Toad are friends, they normally sit on the steps of the building together and ask people “where’s Waldo?” The second store was
At the store, I walked past the display with the rainbow fish, an “I am the cheese” poster, some freckle juice bottles, and by the mitten set I got for Arthur’s birthday as I picked up the things I needed to buy.
The cashier looked curious; George was the giver of change and unwanted shopping advice. “We have an excellent selection of fish today,” he told me, “one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. We have it all.”
I politely said no, paid for my food, and started to hurry home because it was getting dark! Everyone my age knows the celery stalks at and because of a new moon, tonight would be dark. So as much as I wanted to number the stars, I said “goodnight moon” and hurried inside, well before the breaking dawn.
Copyrighted 2009 by Sarah E. Southerland; author retains all rights to this story.