<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669</id><updated>2012-01-26T14:01:33.281-05:00</updated><category term='dark'/><category term='big daddy'/><category term='dad'/><category term='frog'/><category term='abby'/><category term='Antarctica'/><category term='poem'/><category term='wise'/><category term='Kid'/><category term='rohan'/><category term='vacations'/><category term='magic'/><category term='cricket'/><category term='light'/><category term='snake'/><category term='sing'/><category term='snail'/><category term='rat'/><category term='rainbow'/><category term='antelope'/><category term='chimpanzee'/><category term='pratya'/><category term='boy'/><category term='travel'/><category term='mouse'/><category term='yoga'/><category term='monster'/><category term='teacher'/><category term='study'/><category term='dubai'/><category term='forest'/><category term='bird'/><category term='robbers'/><category term='ganesha'/><category term='girl'/><category term='picnic'/><category term='singapore'/><category term='contribute'/><category term='invention'/><category term='football'/><category term='bluebird'/><category term='kids'/><category term='dinosaur'/><category term='friends'/><category term='story'/><category term='hat'/><category term='horse'/><category term='nugget'/><category term='Lion'/><category term='mommy'/><category term='potter'/><category term='lost'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='old'/><category term='valentine'/><category term='sudha'/><category term='tiger'/><category term='dream'/><category term='skit'/><category term='star'/><category term='dog'/><category term='ideas'/><category term='heart'/><category term='allison hayes'/><category term='geometry'/><category term='boarding school'/><category term='swim'/><category term='adventure'/><category term='mermaid'/><category term='big thatha'/><category term='lavanya'/><category term='pinni'/><category term='interaction'/><category term='monkey'/><category term='kindness'/><category term='butterfly'/><category term='children&apos;s stories'/><category term='god'/><category term='dosa'/><category term='slide'/><category term='race'/><category term='stories'/><category term='chicken'/><category term='elocution'/><category term='cat'/><category term='nithin'/><category term='tree'/><category term='love'/><category term='cactus'/><category term='witch'/><category term='pet'/><title type='text'>Tiger Monkey Forest (Stories on 3 words)</title><subtitle type='html'>Give me 3 words and I will write a story that includes them.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>68</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4156956509127872484</id><published>2011-12-10T00:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T11:52:58.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Antarctica Adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: Mittens, Shovel, Igloo, Globe&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Big Daddy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hi! I am Spots. I am extremely famous as I solved manyadventures and mysteries. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyrFUjbU9yQ/TuL0Ae9JSWI/AAAAAAAAAEo/M62AYXS5X7A/s1600/the-chase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyrFUjbU9yQ/TuL0Ae9JSWI/AAAAAAAAAEo/M62AYXS5X7A/s320/the-chase.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One day, I was sitting on the couch and sipping my Tea, whenthere suddenly came a knock on the door. Dopey the cat, Pat the parrot andMischief the mouse came in. The four of us are best friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Now can you tell us?”&amp;nbsp;said Pat. “Tell what?” asked Spots. “My friend, Pongy the penguin, invited us to Antarctica”, Dopey announced. “Where in the world is Antarctica?”asked Mischief confused. Dopey shrugged. Let’s check on the globe. Theysearched and searched. But they couldn’t find Antarctica anywhere.&amp;nbsp; “There it is” said Pat suddenly, "at thebottom of the globe". &amp;nbsp;“There is a flightgoing to Antarctica tomorrow” said Dopey. “Let’s go the library and see how theweather is in Antarctica” said Spots. So they all set off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Can we have a book about Antarctica, Mrs. Wiggs (a pig)?”asked Pat. The librarian pointed to a shelf named “Places around the world”. Sothey scampered over there. Mischief picked up a book which was named“Antarctica Days”. She flipped through the pages and read: “&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Harlow Solid Italic';"&gt;Antarcticais a cold place. It snows there throughout the year.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Let’s go back and pack jackets, mittens, caps, and scarves”suggested Pat. So they thanked Mrs. Wiggs and ran back home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Spots gathered all his clothes which he would need forAntarctica and put them in a Blue bag. He waited for the others to come. FirstPat came with an Orange purse. “Got everything?” asked Spots. “I didn’t have ascarf” replied Pat. “I have an extra one, don’t worry” Spots said. He ranupstairs and came down with a pink scarf. “Thanks!” said Pat shoving it in herbag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Next, Mischief came with a tiny Yellow bag. Spots strokedthe little mouse’s tail fondly. Finally. Dopey came with a Pink bag on hisback.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“When is the flight?” asked Pat. “8:30pm” said Dopey. “Sowe’ll leave at 6. Then we’ll check-in and eat breakfast.” “Good idea” saidMischief. “Which airport?” asked Spots. “Wag your tails” replied Dopey.“Goodnight!” yawned Pat. “I’ll wake you up tomorrow”.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;So they went to sleep. “RISE AND SHINE SLEEPING BEAUTIES”screamed Pat in the morning. She took all of their luggage and dumped it in thecar. Then she dragged her friends and pushed them in. Spots knew how to driveso he started the car. Soon they reached the airport. They checked in, ate somebuns, and got on the flight. Pat read a book. Dopey watched a movie. Meanwhile,Spots and Mischief who were sitting next to each other chatted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;After a few hours they reached Antarctica. “I’m so excited”said Dopey squeezing Spots’ hand. After a while they were out of the airport.“It’s freezing!” said Pat a shiver going down her back. “Let’s search forPongy” said Spots. Suddenly Dopey ran to a little fat Penguin standing nearby.“Pongy!!!” he cried. “I’m so glad to see you!”. “Dopey! It’s been such a longtime since we met!”. “Pongy, this is Pat, Spots, and Mischief. They are my bestfriends. Guys, meet Pongy!” “umm what’s up?” Pat said struggled to find somesensible words. Pongy laughed. “Don’t be nervours, young bird” he said with agrin, “well let’s walk to my igloo.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;As they walked, Pongy started telling them something. “Youknow King Oliver the peacock, right?” “Yes, so?” asked Michief. “His treasurehas been stolen!” “Did youcatch the thief yet?” asked Spots. “Yes, but the crowisn’t confessing where he hid the treasure”, said Pongy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Now, have a seat, we’ve reached home”. “Well guys, I thinkwe have another mystery to solve” said Pat. “And any one too!” added Spots witha grin. Everyone laughed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“The police said that there was not a sign of any treasurein the crow’s house” said Pongy. “Too bad” sighed Dopey. “Lazypoke” saidMischief yawning. Dopey ran after her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Goodnight” said Pongy turning off the lights. Everyone wasfast asleep except Spots. Spots was up thinking about the mystery. Suddenlysomething clicked in his mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the morning he told the others. “I think it’s hiddenunder the snow” announced Spots. “Yeah, exactly!” exclaimed Pat clapping hermittens together. “But we can’t dig up all the snow in Antarctiac!” said Dopeyalarmed. “You’ve got a point” said Spots thoughtfully. “We could split up”suggested Pongy. “I know” squeaked Mischief. “Maybe the crow dropped a necklacesomewhere and that can lead us to the path”. “Not bad” said Pat. “Or we’ll putour feet deep inside the snow and might feel Gold” said Dopey. “Nice ideas”said Spots approvingly. “I’ll split the work. Dooey and Pat will do what Dopeysaid” ordered Spots. “Pongy and I will dig up some snow with a shovel”. AndMischief should go deep under the snow. Got it?” said Spots. ‘Yup!” everyoneset out to work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;First Dopey and Pat were at deep work. Suddenly Dopeystomped on something hard. “Ow!” he yelped. Pat picked up a Gold coin! “Hey,Dopes look what you found!” she said delighted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yC1gA_0lOE/TuL0B7QyVeI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dQKQigHAM5U/s1600/a27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="204" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yC1gA_0lOE/TuL0B7QyVeI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dQKQigHAM5U/s320/a27.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;“Hey Spots!” called Dopey. Spots came running. “Look at whatPat and I found.” “Awesome” said &lt;br /&gt;Spots. “Keep it up!” Spots and Pongy were doing a great job. “Come on Spots, wehave to find it!” shoted Pongy. Meanwhile, little Mischief was enjoying herselfswimming in the snow. Suddenly she bashed into something hard. It was a cave!She got up and cautiously walked inside half curious and half scared. Suddenlythere was a fierce roar and a Lion pounced on Michief! Mischief ran behind apole trembling. She bumped into a box. It was nothing other than the Treasurebox!! Mischief couldn’t believe her eyes! She was about to scream for herfriends but then she remembered where she was. And how could usch a tiny mouselift a big box?! Then she remembered she had the Wand that Spots and Dopey hadgiven her. She took it out of her pocket and tapped the box. At once the boxgrew small. She had a plan. Mischief tucked the box under her arm and ran tothe lion bravely. She took a spider and put it on his back. The lion roaredwith laughter and irritation. In a flash, Mischief was out. Then she screamed“I found King Oliver’s treasure!!” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everyone &amp;nbsp;includingher friends lifted her up and took her to the king shouting and praising her.She handed the box over to the king and the king praised and patted her on herback.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Don’t you wish that you also went to Antractica?!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4156956509127872484?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4156956509127872484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4156956509127872484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4156956509127872484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4156956509127872484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/12/antarctica-adventure.html' title='The Antarctica Adventure'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RyrFUjbU9yQ/TuL0Ae9JSWI/AAAAAAAAAEo/M62AYXS5X7A/s72-c/the-chase.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4564586811680867765</id><published>2011-12-01T08:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T08:22:51.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who’s scared of a Ghoto!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hi I am Alicia, Alicia Bonnet. I live in London with my momJudie, who is a doctor, my dad Frank, who is a scientist, and Cathy thehousemaid. I’m 8 years old. I have two friends – Jennifer Williams, an Americangirl, who has a puppy named Cookie but has no siblings; and Natalie Peterson,an English girl, who has two brothers James and Alex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“What a wonderful day!” exclaimed Natalie as we biked aroundthe street on a fine day in May. Cookie ran behind her yelping. “I think Cookieagrees with you” I sniggered. “Why don’t we go for a ride in the forest?”suggested Jenny and off we went. “Nice dress” Jenny complimented me. “Thanks” Isaid, “Aunt Emily gave it to me for my 5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday!”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Suddenly, Natalie gave a gasp. “What is it?!” I asked,startled. “I just saw two tiny pink dwarves passing by” replied Natalie, recoveringfrom her shock. “You are just seeing things!” said Jenny scornfully, shakingher head, as her short brown hair bounced up and down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then we all saw it! Two tiny pink twin puppies ordwarves (I’m not sure!) came running to us. “Aren’t they cute, Allie?” saidNatalie. “Yup!” I replied. “What are your names?” Jenny asked them. “Wee Wee,Wah Wah” said the first one. I think the first one is “LiLi” and the second oneis “LaLa” I said with a grin. Lili was pointing to my white dress, Jenny’swhite hairband, and Natalies’s white ribbons. “What!” Jenny asked, somewhatirritated. “Ghoto” squealed LaLa and they both broke into a run.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“What’s Ghoto?!” I asked my friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&amp;nbsp;“..and why are theypointing at white things?!” observed Natalie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“..and why are they such silly creatures?!” exclaimed Jennyrolling her eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“I have an answer for Natalie’s question” I said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Natalie came running to me eagerly to know the answer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“May be they are scared of the color white” I suggested.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“or may be something else that is white scares them” saidJenny thoughtfully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“What’s a white Ghoto!” I questioned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Let’s meet at your house” said Natalie and so we did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;First, Jenny arrived with a yellow top and blue jeans, and afootball in her hands. “Wanna play?” she asked me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One thing about Jenny. She is really mad about sports, whileNatalie likes dresses and make-up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Um.. Sorry, we came here to discuss” I said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then Natalie came, her long blonde hair tied up in a plait. “Ihave an answer to this little mystery!” she announced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“What!!” I asked eagerly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“LiLi and LaLa are scared of white goats!” she replied. “Howis Ghoto a Goat?” asked Jenny confused. “Come on Jenny! They are just babies”said Natalie as if that was really obvious. “Who would be scared of goats?” Iasked. “As I said, they are babies!” said Natalie enjoying all the attention. “Let’sask your dad, he’s&amp;nbsp; a scientist” saidJenny to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Hey Girls!” said dad, stepping into the room, “what do youneed me for?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Dad, do you know any two pink creatures scared of whitegoats?”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Not even a baby is scared of goats” replied dad and leftthe room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Suddenly, Jenny fell off her chair. “Jenny are you..” Istarted off. “I got the answer!” squealed Jenny. “What?!” we asked impatiently.“Ghoto meants Ghosts!” replied Jenny “LiLi and LaLa are scared of ghosts”. “Sothey pointed at the white colors on us” I continued. “And they ran away”finished Natalie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“What should we do?” I asked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Let’s go and comfort them” suggested Jenny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Don’t wear anything white!” Natalie giggled and we set off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;LiLi and LaLa were sitting in the forest. “Don’t be scaredof ghosts” I said gently. “White stands for peace!” added Natalie. LiLi andLaLa were touched. So we took them home to stay with us. I took LiLi whileNatalie took LaLa. “What about you Jenny?” I asked. “It’s ok. I have Cookie”she replied.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;And that’s where the story ends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;PS: we haven’t realized what creatures LiLi and LaLa are,yet. Have you? If you meet them, tell us what they are!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4564586811680867765?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4564586811680867765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4564586811680867765' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4564586811680867765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4564586811680867765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/12/whos-scared-of-ghoto.html' title='Who’s scared of a Ghoto!'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-933470115466424001</id><published>2011-10-16T01:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T01:38:52.875-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dopey and Mischief</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: Cat, Mouse, Maha Chase&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Panu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Hi, I am Spots. Spots the dog. Or Spots the double famous dog! Do you know my last two adventures with Pat the clever parrot and Dopey the crazy cat?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Spots, Dopey and Pat were sitting in a cave and chatting. Dopey was saying bye to Pat and Spots as they were participating in a dog and bird show. "Too bad cats aren't allowed" said Dopey. "Bye guys!" "We'll see you tomorrow" promised Spots. "Yup!" agreed Pat. And they left.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7ry3ix1L9PE/TpptqG2ANcI/AAAAAAAAAEI/tUwodSQ0iJQ/s1600/tom-jerry-pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7ry3ix1L9PE/TpptqG2ANcI/AAAAAAAAAEI/tUwodSQ0iJQ/s320/tom-jerry-pic.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Dopey went home feeling sad and lonely. He sat down and began to fiddle with some string. "Maybe I'll go to my friend Bimbo's&amp;nbsp; house" he thought. But before he could get up there came a squeak. "There is a mouse in the house" screamed Dopey. "And I'm gonna get it!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Dopey searched under the bed, on the table, in the fridge, behind the door but the mouse was nowhere to be found. "I was on your head the whole time!" said a voice suddenly. Dopey looked in the mirror and sure enough there was a little white&amp;nbsp; mouse sitting! "You rascal!" said Dopey. "You you- "Catch me if you can" chanted the mouse running towards the door. Dopey followed. The mouse ran through a bush while Dopey jumped over the bush. The mouse ran across the road and Dopey did the same.Soon the mouse was out of sight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; font: normal normal normal 18px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;"Where are you?" demanded Dopey.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"I'm here" said the mysterious mouse appearing from behind the tree.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 22.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Dopy caught hold of her tail but it wiggled and escaped quite easily. "That mouse has the guts to do anything!" though Dopey, but "I wont give up". So he started chasing the mouse again. They ran over mountains, across the lawns, and were soon panting. "Wow!" said Dopey, "this mouse gave me good exercise".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 22.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Suddenly Dopey saw a yellow stone lying on the ground. So he picked it up and examined it. As he turned it over in his hand, he got a sudden idea. "May be I should pretend that this is cheese, that should do it!" thought Dopey. "I have a surprise for you little mouse!" called out Dopey. "What is it?" called the mouse stopping. "Cheese!" replied Dopey. "Very funny, prove it!" said the mouse. Dopey showed her the stone. "Yummy!" screamed the mouse licking her lips. "Well come and get it" said Dopey. The mouse came running towards him. But before she could snatch the stone out of Dopey's hands, he caught hold of her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 22.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"I finally caught you!" exclaimed Dopey. "I'm going to give you to Bimbo". But suddenly the mouse gave a jerk and escaped. "You really cheeky thing!" screamed Dopey. After an hour of chasing the mouse, Dopey gave up. He forgot about the mouse and looked forward to seeing Spots and Pat that evening. Finally, they came. "How are you?" squealed Dopey hugging his friends. "Did you win a prize?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"Yup!" said Spots, "I got first prize in the cleverest dog race". Awesome exclaimed Dopey slapping Spots on the back. "And you?" he asked turning to Pat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"Third place in the highest flying bird!" replied Pat. "What did you do when we weren't here?" she asked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Dopey rolled his eyes and told them all about the mouse. There was a moment of silence. Then Pat and Spots burst out laughing. "What's s funny?" asked Dopey puzzled. "Do you mean to say that a little mouse spoiled your whole day?" laughed Spots wiping his eyes. "It's so funny" giggled Pat. Before they could start laughing again, there came a familiar squeak.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"That's the mouse I'm talking about", said Dopey pointing at the little white mouse. "This time I'm sure he's going to get it".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"Wait" squeaked the mouse "can I be part of your group?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Spots, Dopey, and Pat exchanged glances.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"Sure" said kindhearted Pat at once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"Thank you" said the mouse jumping up in joy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"I am Dopey, and these are my friends Spots and Pat.We love adventures and mysteries" introduced Dopey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"What's your name?" asked Spots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"I'm Mischief, the mouse. I'm a great entertainer. I hope you can use me on your trips".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"Of course" said Dopey "you can irritate any guilty animal".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 18.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;All three friends hugged, but not Dopey who went to put the yellow stone in his scrap book safely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-933470115466424001?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/933470115466424001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=933470115466424001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/933470115466424001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/933470115466424001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/10/dopey-and-mischief.html' title='Dopey and Mischief'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7ry3ix1L9PE/TpptqG2ANcI/AAAAAAAAAEI/tUwodSQ0iJQ/s72-c/tom-jerry-pic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1785482996635892529</id><published>2011-10-16T01:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T01:33:41.272-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A walk with collective nouns</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p7dmv-wjiI4/TppsJEjGinI/AAAAAAAAAEA/K6jOUeDqUro/s1600/golden-retriever-puppies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p7dmv-wjiI4/TppsJEjGinI/AAAAAAAAAEA/K6jOUeDqUro/s320/golden-retriever-puppies.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Once there lived a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;family of people &lt;/span&gt;in Mexico. There was Mr. Arthur the dad, Mrs. Claire the mom, Ginny the daughter, and William the son.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 19.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;One day, the family took out their &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;litter of puppies&lt;/span&gt; for a walk. Suddenly, Ginny's puppy gave a jerk and escaped from her hand. It had seen a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;brood of hens&lt;/span&gt; walking by. "Don't you want to see that &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;herd of sweet cows&lt;/span&gt;?" Ginny called out to her puppy. But the puppy shook his head and went to see a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;pride&lt;/span&gt; of lions resting in the forest. One of the lions saw it peeking and chased it away. The puppy caught scared and unknowingly barged through a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;flock of sheep&lt;/span&gt; grazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 19.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;"You could've held the leash tighter!" commented William thinking this was great entertainment. "Where's mom?" asked Ginny ignoring her pesky brother. "She's gone to watch a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;troop&lt;/span&gt; of dancers" replied Mr. Arthur. "Hey look! your puppy is tripping over that &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;orchestra of musicians&lt;/span&gt;!" exclaimed William. "Come here, you naughty puppy" said Ginny firmly, "we're going home now". The puppy obeyed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 19.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;As they walked home, they spotted a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;stand of flamingoes&lt;/span&gt;. "Aren't these beautiful?" said Mrs. Claire as she took a picture of &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;squabble of seagulls&lt;/span&gt;. "No! these are!" said William pointing to a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;murder of crows&lt;/span&gt;. When they reached home, Ginny's puppy ran up and down the &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;flight of stairs&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;pack of cards&lt;/span&gt; in his mouth. Ginny and William got a &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;stack of books&lt;/span&gt; and wrote about all the collective nouns they had learned that day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 16.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1785482996635892529?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1785482996635892529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1785482996635892529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1785482996635892529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1785482996635892529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/10/walk-with-collective-nouns.html' title='A walk with collective nouns'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p7dmv-wjiI4/TppsJEjGinI/AAAAAAAAAEA/K6jOUeDqUro/s72-c/golden-retriever-puppies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-5212486326627278200</id><published>2011-09-29T23:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T23:56:29.048-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The adventures of SpotsThe frozen avalanche</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0QtTDzdVoA/ToU8j4Q_vvI/AAAAAAAAAD4/fglsLukoRFU/s1600/59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0QtTDzdVoA/ToU8j4Q_vvI/AAAAAAAAAD4/fglsLukoRFU/s1600/59.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;Hi, I amspots. Spots the dog. Or maybe Spots the famous dog! You know my last adventurewith Pat and Dopey, right? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;It was nightand Pat, Dopey and Spots were chatting in Pat’s House. They were saying bye toPat as it was winter and she was migrating. “Bye Pat, we are going to missyou!” chorused Spots and Dopey. “Bye guys!” said Pat. The next day Dopey feltgrumpy as Pat wasn’t there to cheer him up. “No Pat and no adventure” he muttered.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Why don’t wego out and play in the snow?” suggested Spots. “Good idea!” said Dopeybrightening up.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;“Yay!” squealed Dopeyand Spots as they had a snowball fight. Suddenly Mr. John the police dog camerunning. “There is an avalanche coming in 5 minutes!” he shouted.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;"Go back home!“Where should we go, we are stray?” Dopey asked Spots. “Pat’s house!” repliedSpots.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;“Run! That was close!” said Dopeyonce they’d reached. “What do you mean that was close, that was extremelyclose!”retorted Spots.“Seriously Dopes, did I have to pull you?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Why don’t westop the avalanche?” said Dopey suddenly. “Bones and biscuits!” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Informal Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"&gt;Have you gonemad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt; Shrieked Spots. “Come on Spots,please?”said Dopey. “Fine” murmured &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Spots. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;But how?“Let’s think” replied Dopey. “I Know”! Spots jumped up. “ In our last adventurethere was an old cat right?” “ Remember she gave me a wand? “Though nobody knewbecause it was a secret”. “ I know what you are thinking” interrupted Dopey. “Let’s use the wand to stop the avalanche!” “Exactly” said Spots. “But we don’tknow any magic spell” said Dopey doubtfully.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tuSFQeYaHFc/ToU9iLVq6mI/AAAAAAAAAD8/SNjYXmgIX6g/s1600/av1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="222" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tuSFQeYaHFc/ToU9iLVq6mI/AAAAAAAAAD8/SNjYXmgIX6g/s320/av1.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“We can askWhiskers the magic witch cat” replied Spots. “Yeah, let’s go! So Dopey andSpots set off to Whiskers cottage. “Who is it?” called Whiskers.” Dopey andSpots” said Dopey timidly.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Get in” saidWhiskers. “Why are you here?” &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;shecackled.. “Make it fast”. “ You see we er um we” stammered Dopey.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;“We need a spell that will stop the avalanchefrom coming” said Spots. “Let me see” said Whiskers picking up a book. “Meanwhilemake sure that the magic cookies which I’m baking don’t get burnt okay Spots?”he said sternly. Spots did as he was told. After 10 seconds&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Whiskers called Spots in. “So?” said Spots. “Howdo we do it?” “Think of your happiest memory” said Whiskers. “Then your saddest”.“That’s all?” asked Dopey. “No”. “Then wave your wand and say ‘Iscartem fisa’. “Gotit?” “Yup” answered Spots. “Now get out of here!” ordered Whiskers.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Wow!” Thatis one fierce cat!” exclaimed Spots outside. “ Ya, she gives me theheebeejeebees” agreed Dopey. “Now let’s go and freeze the avalanche!” squealedSpots. Dopey and Spots rushed to stop the avalanche.”I say Spots” said Dopeystopping to catch her breath, “Have &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;you readthe latest Catty Potter?” “It’s about this wonderful wizard cat with his &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;friends Hermousnee&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Granger and Rat Weasley”. “Dopey, there is NOtime to talk about doggy joggy Potter!” said Spots. “The avalanche is coming inone minute!” And it surely was coming. So Spots and Dopey continued racing tothe avalanche. Finally they reached, panting. “Perform the magic, Spots” urgedDopey. “Do it!” Spots thought of his happiest and saddest memories.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Then with confidence he said “Iscartem fisa”!The avalanche stopped. Then it slowly melted. “Yay!” squealed Dopey giving herfriend a big hug. “ We would have been in danger if you hadn’t stopped theavalanche!” said Mr. John. The next day Pat was back. She was astonished whenSpots &amp;amp; &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Dopey told her everything! “Iseriously wish I was there!” said&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;Pat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;The threefriends hugged with Spots clutching the magic wand tightly in his hand.&amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-5212486326627278200?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5212486326627278200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=5212486326627278200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5212486326627278200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5212486326627278200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/adventures-of-spots-frozen-avalanche.html' title='&lt;i&gt;The adventures of Spots&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;The frozen avalanche'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V0QtTDzdVoA/ToU8j4Q_vvI/AAAAAAAAAD4/fglsLukoRFU/s72-c/59.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-8947153387618272080</id><published>2011-09-13T10:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T10:52:35.483-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is too much Cricket making us less smart?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f4f7e7; color: #666666; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6VzkVxIyirc/Tm9t6IiucPI/AAAAAAAAAD0/DYHf46f_emA/s1600/India-Cricket-World-Cup-Wallpaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6VzkVxIyirc/Tm9t6IiucPI/AAAAAAAAAD0/DYHf46f_emA/s400/India-Cricket-World-Cup-Wallpaper.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Has Sachin hit his 100th century yet? Will Bangalore Royal Challengers win the IPL cup?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Good morning, I’m Pratya from class 4E and my topic is ‘&lt;/span&gt;Are minds of people getting eroded due to present state of competitiveness in the game of Cricket?&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Yes, I believe so. All of us love to watch cricket. But some people go crazy about it and lose focus on other things. So, minds of people are getting eroded due to the game of Cricket.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Let’s look at some examples to prove this point. Do you remember the World Cup? Of course you do! Everyone was excited about it. We were all delighted that India won. Our minds got on that event and we couldn’t stop talking about it. This was certainly a distraction. Children can lose track of studies if they only think about Cricketers. Also, if we read only the Cricket section in the daily newspaper, we won’t know about other important things going on around us. We won’t even be able to enjoy other fun things like Books if we keep dreaming about Cricket! Sometimes, Cricket distracts us so much that we get tensed about the matches. A few children say “Teacher, I couldn’t do my homework because I was busy watching the world cup!” For example, my brother always says “Can’t I go out and play Cricket instead of staying inside the house?!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I’m not saying that Cricket is all bad. It keeps us fit and healthy if we play it. It’s also a great entertainment to watch Dhoni hit sixers! It gives us an opportunity to show our patriotism for our country. Cricket can also teach us math through adding scores, angle of bowling, etc. It shows us great teamwork.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;However, if Cricket is all we play, watch, and talk about, we won’t learn anything else. And that will definitely erode our minds because our minds grow by learning new things. In conclusion, we all love cricket but we should have limits. We should only watch important matches and use the remaining time for other activities. That will keep our minds sharp.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;That said, Go RCB!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thank you!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-size: 1em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pratya,4E&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-8947153387618272080?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8947153387618272080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=8947153387618272080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8947153387618272080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8947153387618272080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/is-too-much-cricket-making-us-less.html' title='Is too much Cricket making us less smart?'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6VzkVxIyirc/Tm9t6IiucPI/AAAAAAAAAD0/DYHf46f_emA/s72-c/India-Cricket-World-Cup-Wallpaper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-2122829292681079753</id><published>2011-09-10T03:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T03:09:09.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Adventures of Spots: The Mystery of the Missing Ring</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: Dog, Cat, Bird&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Natasha&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQxGgSPkPY8/TmsMx50SJdI/AAAAAAAAADw/cLLwroUKsvo/s1600/ring_diamond_ruby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQxGgSPkPY8/TmsMx50SJdI/AAAAAAAAADw/cLLwroUKsvo/s200/ring_diamond_ruby.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;There was once a dog named Spots. He lived in Paris and was a stray. He had 2 friends Dopey the kitten and Pat the parrot. “Hey Pat how are you?” asked Spots. “Fine!” replied Pat with a grin. “Guess what Dopey did this time!?” said Pat. “She acted like a crazy dog and licked everything she saw! There is Dopey! What’s going on Dope?” asked Spots. ”I am waiting for another adventure” replied Dopey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Pat could say anything Mr. John the police dog came running by. "What happened Mr. John?" asked Spots politely. “Polly the parrot dropped her ring somewhere” replied   Mr. John hurriedly. I need to sniff it out! “Guys, we need to help Polly, meet at the bus stop at 11:30”said Pat. Bye! First we need to find out where Polly went today thought Spots. He found a piece of chicken and gobbled it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U-8_tX_pC2A/TmsMwx7nxJI/AAAAAAAAADs/QS6MoE8Q-_c/s1600/lost-cat-parrot-dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="122" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U-8_tX_pC2A/TmsMwx7nxJI/AAAAAAAAADs/QS6MoE8Q-_c/s400/lost-cat-parrot-dog.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it was 11:30 the animals met. “Let’s investigate!”squealed Dopey. “No, first we need to split up” said Pat firmly. “Dopey and I will go to the road and start searching. Spots can ask Polly a few questions.” “Sure!” said Spots. Spots ran to Polly’s house. “Who is it?” called Polly. Me, Spots! “Come in”. “So why did you come here?” asked Polly. “To ask you a few questions” replied Spots. “Be fast, I need to take my babies to flying classes!” hurried Polly. “Where were you when you lost the ring?” inquired Spots. “In Squawky rainforest” answered Polly.” Bye I need to take my babies! “ Squawky rainforest” Spots murmured to himself as he went to meet Pat and Dopey. “Hi Spots!” said Pat. “Found anything? Yup! Spots told them about the rainforest. Did you find anything?” asked Spots. “No” said Dopey. “Except, Dopey thought that a snake was some yarn to play with” added Pat. “Patricia!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Here’s mom calling, I need to, bye!” said Pat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Why don’t we search in squawky rainforest?”suggested Dopey. “We need Pat as a guide” reminded Spots. Dopey yawned. “Goodnight!” said Spots. Both of them curled up and were soon fast asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wake up sleepy heads!” screeched Pat in the morning, “we got work to do!” “Ready!” said Dopey and Spots. “Well, let’s get going to Squawky rainforest!” said Spots. “It’s such a long distance” protested Dopey. “Mary the flying horse is going to take us” replied Pat. At that moment Mary the flying horse appeared in front of them. “Get on” she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friends had a wonderful adventure flying on the horse. “Cool!” said Dopey when they reached. “Spots! Sniff under the bushes, Dopy! Search on the ground” Pat ordered “I’ll check in the trees”. The friends searched and searched but the ring was nowhere to be found. “I guess we should come tomorrow” panted Spots, her tongue hanging out. “Certainly” said Pat. “There is Pamela” said Dopey. “Hey Pam!” called Spots. “Dopy told me that you guys were going to find Polly’s ring” said Pam. “Got anything?” “No, we are coming back tomorrow” replied Pat. “Come to my house kennel. We’ll have a few biscuits” said Pam. “Sure! I’m starving” moaned Dopey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was soon 6:00 in the morning. Spots didn’t feel like snoozing, so he went for a little walk. “Hey there!” Rosy the cat called. “I gave birth to a new kitten!”. “What did you name him” asked Spots. “Mewsie”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, there was a yelp. Mewsie had fallen in the pool. “Mewsieeee” squealed Rosey. Spots dived into the pool. He caught hold of the little kitten and she was saved. “I don’t know how to thank you!” exclaimed Rosey. “My pleasure” said Spots with a grin. Soon Dopey and Pat joined him. “What’s up” asked Pat. Spots told them. “Good for you buddy!” said Dopey with a grin. “Now let’s go to the rainforest”. “What about Mary?” asked Spots. “She’s too busy, so we’ll have to walk” said Pat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way, they met an old cat. She stopped them and pointed at Spots. “O O O oo say moosy” “What?” said Dopey confused. “She’s saying that Spots saved Mewsie” explained Pat. “Moosy e ma gadotre”. “Mewsie is my granddaughter” repeated Spots. “I gee sommy ee reta” said the cat. “She’s going to give Spots something in return” said Dopey delighted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old cat rummaged in her purse and pulled a ring out. “That’s Polly’s ring!” said Spots excited. “Yay! We found the ring!” said Dopey delighted. “Did you steal it?” Pat asked suspiciously. “Me fa the rafa” said the cat. “She found it in the rainforest” said the friends. “Polly would never have found the ring if you hadn’t saved Mewsie!” said Dopey giving her friend a big hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you so much!” exclaimed Polly. “It was nothing” said Spots modestly, “couldn’t have done it without Pat, Dopey, and of course the cat”.“Tha Ku” said the cat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Can you guess what she said?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-2122829292681079753?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2122829292681079753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=2122829292681079753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2122829292681079753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2122829292681079753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/09/adventures-of-spots-mystery-of-missing.html' title='&lt;i&gt;The Adventures of Spots&lt;/i&gt;: The Mystery of the Missing Ring'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RQxGgSPkPY8/TmsMx50SJdI/AAAAAAAAADw/cLLwroUKsvo/s72-c/ring_diamond_ruby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-8116794066061562803</id><published>2011-08-20T07:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T07:47:56.129-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cricket'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><title type='text'>The Tri-Sport Tournament</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words:Football, Cricket, Hockey&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Devanshu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MM-yR9Wu_s0/Tk-ceGyAV2I/AAAAAAAAADc/YEtYeW8OgGM/s1600/cup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MM-yR9Wu_s0/Tk-ceGyAV2I/AAAAAAAAADc/YEtYeW8OgGM/s1600/cup.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chapter 1. Introducing Mr. Nithin&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a boy named Nithin. He was extremely clever and good in sports. His 3&amp;nbsp;favorite sports were cricket, football, and hockey. He lived in Mumbai with his sister (Nitya), mom, dad and his little poodle' Tinker'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Exciting news!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day Nithin's teacher announced that there was to be a sports match between the girls and boys of 4th grade! What are the sports? asked Tara. "Cricket, football and hockey." replied the teacher. "Yaaaaay!" shouted the boys. "Booooo!" squealed the girls. "Pack your bags everyone" said the teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chapter 2. Preparation&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nithin excitedly discussed about the matches with his friends. "Cricket is tomorrow" said Ria. Girls rule! shrieked Nitya. "Very funny"muttered Nithin. They soon reached. Tinker barked excitedly when he saw Nithin and Nitya. " Sorry Tinks, we have to practice Cricket" said Nitya patting the poodle on the head. "Ask dad to play Fetch with you" added Nithin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nitya and a few girls started practicing. The boys also did. "I'm tired" panted Nitya after an hour and scoring 40 runs. The children went home pleased with their work. "Wuff wuff!" Tinker greeted them. Nitya got some food and freshwater for Tinker while Nithin gave him a wash. Then both of them had their dinner and went to bed. Nithin dreamt of winning the sports cup. Soon it was morning. The children brushed their teeth and combed their hair. They ran to catch the bus. Soon the match began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IcmXgfXCFIE/Tk-cnbfI_pI/AAAAAAAAADo/2gIy8Dh4UXU/s1600/cric.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IcmXgfXCFIE/Tk-cnbfI_pI/AAAAAAAAADo/2gIy8Dh4UXU/s200/cric.jpeg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRetckveLwI/Tk-clNdpAjI/AAAAAAAAADk/2dReV_ZZ8tE/s1600/poodle-ready-to-play-soccer-framed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chapter 3. The Cricket Match&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;The girls batted first. "Come on Nitya!" shouted Ria. Nitya gracefully hit a six and ran. "Six runs!" said the umpire. Sonia batted next and scored 4 runs. "Come on boys!" groaned Pranav. Next Adya batted and was out as Nithin caught the ball. "Good job!" said Pranav. Nithin grinned. "Nithin catches the ball and Adya is out!" shorted the umpire. Next Tanya batted and scored 20 runs. "Awesome Tanya!" said Sonia. All girls got a chance. They were good. Soon every girl was out. "The girls totally made 70 runs!" shouted the umpire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the boys batted. Everyone batted well. Pranav scored 20 runs. "Awesome Pranav!" said Nithin. Next Rahul batted. He scored 10 runs. Finally, only Nithin was left. "Come on Nithin!" screamed Vedarth, "You can do it!" chorused the boys in unison. Adya spinned the ball. Nithin swiftly hit the ball. "Sixer!"&amp;nbsp;shouted&amp;nbsp;the boys. But unfortunately Nithya gave a leaping jump and caught the ball! "Nitya! Nitya! Nitya!" chorused the grils. "It's an Out! The girls team wins by 2 points!" shouted the umpire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys sadly walked away. "Yaaay!" shrieked the girls. "We rock'n rule!". "It's okay, it's just a game" said Nithin soothingly. "We have football to look forward to" said Pranav who could not bear to lose. Meanwhile the girls were still yelling. "How can we lose!? we have been playing longer than the girls have been!" exclaimed Rahul. "There is Ginny" said Vedarth. Ginny was a bright student who loved challenges. She was kind and the most popular&amp;nbsp;person&amp;nbsp;in class. "Hi guys! I'm really sorry you lost" said Ginny. "It's ok, we are sure we're going to beat you up in football" said Nithin bravely. "All the best" said&amp;nbsp;Ginny&amp;nbsp;with a wink. "Yaay!" the girls shouted meanwhile. "Unusual girl, that Ginny is" muttered Rahul. "Home time!" shouted the teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chapter 4. Uh oh for Ginny!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nithin went to find Nitya. He expected to see her with a group of girls. Instead she was sitting in a corner crying. "Nitya, what happened?" Nithin exclaimed. "Ginny slipped in the girls bathroom. She fractured her leg!" "Really?!" Nithin was shocked. He spread the news to the class. They were all sorry for poor Ginny. When Nithin and Nitya reached home, they told their mom about Ginny and Cricket. She immediately rang up Ginny's mom to see if Ginny was&amp;nbsp;OK. She was in the hospital. Then Nithin's mom congratulated Nitya and kissed Nithin on his head. "Do better next time!" she said. Now Tinker perked up his ears when he heard the name Ginny. He was a "Ginny Fan" and wanted to help her somehow. So he started to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, Nithin got a mail from Ginny. It said "I don't know who is going to take my&amp;nbsp;pl&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRetckveLwI/Tk-clNdpAjI/AAAAAAAAADk/2dReV_ZZ8tE/s1600/poodle-ready-to-play-soccer-framed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRetckveLwI/Tk-clNdpAjI/AAAAAAAAADk/2dReV_ZZ8tE/s1600/poodle-ready-to-play-soccer-framed.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ace&amp;nbsp;n the football team. You know how much I like that sport! - Ginny". Nithin told everyone about the mail. Then they started practicing football. Tinker watched the girls. Suddenly he got a brainwave! He would disguise himself as a girl! Then he could play in the team. Ok, he will need to practice. So he asked to Nitya in doggy language. Nitya agreed. So he played. The boys laughed seeing Tinker play football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chapter 5. Tinker saves the day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Tinker collected everything he could fine, like an old ribbon, rubber bands, and clips. Then he asked Goldie the clever bird next door to help him look like a girl. Goldie at once helped him. Tinker also practiced walking like a human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tomorrow is the football match" announced Nitya. "Let's see who wins!" said Nithin. "We still need someone to take Ginny's place" complained Nitya. Tinker at once started practicing football when he heard the name Ginny. Then he quickly pretended to sleep when Nithin looked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, the match began. Tinker walked to Nitya and showed her that he wanted to be in the team. "Girls!" called Nitya, "new member!". None of the girls guessed that it was old Tinker. Tinker was very pleased that he could help Ginny. "Aren't you excited, Tara?" asked Ria. 'I would rather fly on a broomstick with Harry Potter" said Tara who was a Harry Potter fan. 'Ready girls?"&amp;nbsp;Nitya&amp;nbsp;asked. "Tara, that old stick is not a wand!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The match started. First the boys scored 2 goals. Then the girls caught up and scored 3 goals. Nithin kicked the ball in the net but unfortunately it was saved by Niketa the goal keeper. Soon both the teams got 19 goals. "Last point wins!" said the umpire. Then Tinker tackled Vedarth and passed the ball to Tara. "This is a snitch" said Tara. "Whatever a snitch is we don't care, just shoot!" shrieked Tanya. Tara passed the ball to Tinker who shot the ball right into the goal! "Girls win!" screamed the&amp;nbsp;umpire. "Awesome!" the girls told Tinker.&lt;br /&gt;"We&amp;nbsp;win!&amp;nbsp; by the way can I call you Tinker? you look exactly like my dog!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile the boys didn't care whether they lost of won."Did you know that, even if you win hockey, girls win the sports cup?" exclaimed Ria. "I don't care!" shouted Nithin. Something told Nithin that the boys&amp;nbsp;would&amp;nbsp;certainly win the sports cup. Even though he was angry with the girls for winning, he phoned Ginny and told her about the match. She was delighted. Meanwhile tinker was happily licking everything he saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Ginny was back. Her classmates greeted her warmly. "Where is this person who made our team win?" Ginny demanded. "She is from another school and we didn't take her address" replied Charity. "Great!" muttered Ginny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chapter 6. The Grand Finale!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, the boys started practicing. The girls thought&amp;nbsp;they would&amp;nbsp;easily win and didn't practice. Tara read Harry Potter while Ginny, Sonia, Nitya, Ria, and Charity played handball. The boys practiced hockey for 2 hours and went home panting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was the match. Nithin and Nitya brushed their teeth, combed their hair, and ran to catch the bus. When the reached, the match started. "The team that gets 20 points wins!" screamed the umpire. Nithin tried tackling Ria but she passed the ball to Charity. Charity got tackled by Pranav but Ginny tackled him and shot a goal. "Yay!" said the girls. Then Tara was tackled by Nithin who shot a goal. Nitya tried to shoot by Rahul was too quick for her passed the ball to Vedarth who short &amp;nbsp;agoal. At the end, the score was 19 all. Nithin hit a hard beautiful shot and it was a goal!!!! "Yay!" yelled the boys patting Nithin on the back. "We won 2 matches" protested Ria. "Shh! Principal is approaching!" said Sania.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good morning children" said the principal pleasantly. "You have all done excellent in the sports. The girls have won 2 matches. I can see the boys have determinedly played well. I'm happy to announce that the boys win the cup! They win because they did not give up!" &amp;nbsp;"Yahooooooooo" shrieked the boys kissing the cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-8116794066061562803?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8116794066061562803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=8116794066061562803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8116794066061562803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8116794066061562803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/tri-sport-tournament.html' title='The Tri-Sport Tournament'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MM-yR9Wu_s0/Tk-ceGyAV2I/AAAAAAAAADc/YEtYeW8OgGM/s72-c/cup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1796519532360486043</id><published>2011-08-08T12:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T12:57:31.834-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='interaction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elocution'/><title type='text'>Interactive Experiences</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;(Elocution topic for Shilp Encounter, August, 2011, written by Pratya)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hi, I’m Pratya from class 4E. My topic today is Interactive Experiences. I will describe interactions in a family and at the hospital.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;We have several interactions within our families. Let’s first look at how my family interacts to make an important decision. &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I want a pet dog and I tell that to my Mom at dinner table. She replies “Dogs are dirty. You are too young to take care of one”. My brother says “I’m scared that the dog will drool on me and bite my hand”. Then dad says “we will get a small puppy and all of us will take care of it”. Finally mom agrees to get a dog for my next birthday. This is one interaction I really enjoyed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Such things keep cropping up in our family. We talk, discuss, argue, and show love. Like, “are you feeling well dear?” mom asks if I’m looking dull. You can always interact with your parents about your problems and they help you solve them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some interactions go on about a particular topic. You can discuss with your parents about what happens at the school. Parents and siblings are like our best friends, they are curious to know how we spent our day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes, you fight with your siblings about certain things. I say, “Let’s watch Harry Potter on TV”. My little brother Rohan says “I want Tom and Jerry! Harry Potter is scary”. Of course I know that he is wrong! So we get into an argument and then we try to negotiate. I tell him about Harry Potter and now he wants to watch it with me. We also crack jokes and talk about humorous things that happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;We also interact with our extended families. We interact with our cousins about what games to play and what gifts they got. Our aunts and uncles ask us what birthday gifts we want. We ask our grandparents “How are you?” They say “Are you taking care of your parents?” Then we start telling them about the big events at school and they tell us about what happened when our parents were young. It is a lot of fun to interact with grandparents; they are full of love and lessons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I recently came to know that I can interact with my father even when he is traveling! I send him an email telling him that we miss him. This makes him really happy and he immediately calls us on the phone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Next, let us look at interactions at a hospital. When we go to the hospital, we first give our name to the person at the front desk. After sitting in the waiting room for a long time, the doctor calls us in. We tell her our problems. She interacts with us and figures out what is bothering us, like fever, flu etc. Then she gives us medicines telling us how to use them. While giving injections she asks questions to take our mind off it. She tells us good items to eat when sick. The nurses usually check our weight and height to see how we are growing up. I used to think that hospitals are all about painful injections, but these interactions make the visits fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;In summary, things happen smoothly in the world because of interactions between people. It is important for us to learn how to interact nicely with different people in various environments. I hope you enjoyed this little interaction at Shilp Encounter!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1796519532360486043?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1796519532360486043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1796519532360486043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1796519532360486043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1796519532360486043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/08/interactive-experiences.html' title='Interactive Experiences'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3333621081677746325</id><published>2011-07-31T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T12:00:37.888-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Somu learns a lesson</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FEuDt0v6Mqk/TjV7zOfcOaI/AAAAAAAAADY/oMAafkFwfYo/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FEuDt0v6Mqk/TjV7zOfcOaI/AAAAAAAAADY/oMAafkFwfYo/s1600/images.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: Hurt, Cry, Happy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Aryan, Vidyashilp&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a boy called Somu. He was 10 years old and lived in Mumbai. He was a bit selfish, mean, and thought the world of himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Somu, you need to do the math sums your math teacher gave you," Somu's mom called, "and the 15 line essay". "Whatever!" Somu thought. He did only 3 sums in math and 4 ines of the essay. And his hand was paining! "I feel like I wrote 150 lines!" he murmured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aryan was Somu's "follower", not "friend". He was very timid and shy, and was rather small for his age.&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Somu!" said Aryan shyly.&lt;br /&gt;"Respect your majesty," Somu shouted.&lt;br /&gt;"Why should we?" a girl named Tanvi shrieked.&lt;br /&gt;Somu went and gave her an angry look. They glared at each other and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Somu went home, his mom told him that the next day was Aryan's birthday. Somu was excited.&lt;br /&gt;The next day, his father drove him to Aryan's house. "Have fun!" he said and left. The boys had a lot of fun. They played Cricket and traded Cricket Attax cards. Aryan got a Gold Sachin! Somu was green with envy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is such a dumb party!" he blurted out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the best part I've been to!" said Rahul immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somu charged towards him. Instead, he slipped in a puddle nearby. He started to cry. The boys walked away laughing. "Coward!" a boy smirked. Only Aryan was kind to Somu. He put a bandage on Somu's wound. Somu was very grateful. From then on he was a much kinder boy, ready to help anyone. He had many friends but his best friend was Aryan. As for Aryan, he was a very brave boy in life. The two made a good pair and lived happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3333621081677746325?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3333621081677746325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3333621081677746325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3333621081677746325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3333621081677746325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/somu-learns-lesson.html' title='Somu learns a lesson'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FEuDt0v6Mqk/TjV7zOfcOaI/AAAAAAAAADY/oMAafkFwfYo/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3251461779944120436</id><published>2011-07-28T21:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T21:54:04.111-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><title type='text'>The Lively Hallows</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt; By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: Brothers who always fight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Arya, Vidyashilp Academy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--rCgpD6bBlI/TjISOQD8KqI/AAAAAAAAADU/dDmcIWkrcqk/s1600/deathly_hallows_logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--rCgpD6bBlI/TjISOQD8KqI/AAAAAAAAADU/dDmcIWkrcqk/s320/deathly_hallows_logo.jpg" width="299" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;There were once two brothers Vikram and Vinay. Both of them were kind, hardworking, respectful, and smart. They were 7 years old and lived in a nice house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, one day, as they were walking to the park, they found a beautiful stone. "That stone is so pretty!" Vinay exclaimed. "Let's crack it and keep one half" said Vikram sensibly. They tried several times but it was of no use. Vikram shrieked "I want it Now!". Vinay shouted "You'll surely not get it!" Both of them hurriedly raced to the pretty stone. Surprisingly, the stone suddenly disappeared! Vinay and Vikram were shocked. They glared at each other, turned on their heels, and ran home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, they were walking to school. A beautiful horse passed by. It had brown eyes and a shiny black coat. Remember the previous day's experience, they kept quiet. But neither of them could resist temptation. They both rushed to grab hold of her, but she vanished! Vikram and Vinay were very puzzled. They went home thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third day, they saw a Silver gleaming sword. "I can feel it is made right for me!" said Vinay delightfully. Vikram snorted. They both ran towards it. But unfortunately it vanished! Vikram looked around suspiciously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next, they met a saint. They asked him about the stone, horse, and the sword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You foolish boys! In this world, we do things to help everyone. The stone for curing, the horse for rescuing, and the sword for protecting. Don't judge a book by its cover. You wanted these things for their looks and not to help others, that's why you could not get them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brothers were quite taken aback. They went home guiltily. From then on, they changed their behavior when they saw some attractive things. Can you guess how they changed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;Moral:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Don't judge things by their appearance. Think about how they can be useful.&lt;div&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3251461779944120436?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3251461779944120436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3251461779944120436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3251461779944120436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3251461779944120436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/lively-hallows.html' title='The Lively Hallows'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--rCgpD6bBlI/TjISOQD8KqI/AAAAAAAAADU/dDmcIWkrcqk/s72-c/deathly_hallows_logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4006763114552268396</id><published>2011-07-26T10:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T10:33:06.755-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geometry'/><title type='text'>The three friendly dots</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;b&gt; By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: X, Y, A&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Devanshu, Vidyashilp Academy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rc8-2KoehhM/Ti7Kp5JZcAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ur_Adodpilo/s1600/tooltip_circle_3point.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rc8-2KoehhM/Ti7Kp5JZcAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ur_Adodpilo/s1600/tooltip_circle_3point.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Hi! I am X, simply X. These are my friends A and Y. We are just three points.&lt;br /&gt;The math teacher in Grade 4 had drawn us on the board to teach circles to students. &amp;nbsp;God creates humans, Humans create us! Don't they know that we have life? I was so dizzy going around the circle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to talk to you," groaned A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There are no corners where we can stop to talk to each other, remember this is a circle!" I reminded him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have an idea!" exclaimed Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grinned. Y could come up with the craziest ideas, well, she was a girl after all, what do you expect?!&lt;br /&gt;Y, who seemed to read my mind, started off excited. &amp;nbsp;But A cut her short. "What's your plan?" he asked Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's go anti-clockwise!" Y replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried it, but it was no use. "Uh oh!" muttered Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need to tell you a secret" A demanded impatiently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a brainwave", I burst out, making Y and A jump. "You could've woken up the teacher!" Y said with a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You see that dog the teacher drew? Let's ask him to rescue us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good idea!" said A. "Doggie, come here!" I commanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog didn't budge. "She listens only to girls!" said Y slyly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Doggie, come here!" said Y in her sweetest voice. He still didn't budge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See!" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, A gasped. "What happened A?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a wonderful idea!" he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great!" Y muttered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ignored her. "You both stay where you. I will walk. Once I go near X, I will grab hold of him and take him. We both will walk towards you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tada! I'm the queen, X is the culprit and you are the soldier. You are going to capture the culprit X and bring him to the queen me!" Y said making us roar with laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we did it. A grabbed me and we went to meet Y. Everything worked perfectly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're awesome A!" said Y.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's nothing!" said A modestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now, what did you want to tell me?" I asked A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just wanted to meet you guys and tell you that 4th grade students are way cool!" said A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's obvious" I said with a grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good night!" said Y with a yawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A slept on me and Y slept on A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the teacher was surprised to see only One Dot! Can you guess why there was only one dot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4006763114552268396?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4006763114552268396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4006763114552268396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4006763114552268396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4006763114552268396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/three-friendly-dots.html' title='The three friendly dots'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rc8-2KoehhM/Ti7Kp5JZcAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ur_Adodpilo/s72-c/tooltip_circle_3point.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3910046642081392240</id><published>2011-07-25T10:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T10:37:31.556-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='allison hayes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='witch'/><title type='text'>Allison and the witch</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D83ibg0y0ZE/Ti1_b1zYLPI/AAAAAAAAADM/ve28KZQWIR4/s1600/three-little-girl-friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D83ibg0y0ZE/Ti1_b1zYLPI/AAAAAAAAADM/ve28KZQWIR4/s320/three-little-girl-friends.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uOmL_Iz-Ixk/Ti1_Jrj3cUI/AAAAAAAAADI/rEDqowj7skk/s1600/images+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uOmL_Iz-Ixk/Ti1_Jrj3cUI/AAAAAAAAADI/rEDqowj7skk/s200/images+%25282%2529.jpg" width="117" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi! I am Allison Hayes. I live in Phoenix, USA. I have a little brother names Charles. My mom Veronica Hayes is a doctor. My dad Arthur Hayes is an engineer. I have two friends - Sarah Brown who is from England and has a big sister Olivia Brown, and Joan Hill who is from Paris and has no siblings but has a kitten. Joan, Sarah, and I are 9 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the three of us were walking on the street. Suddenly, Joan tripped over a shell and fell down. "Joan, are you okay?" I exclaimed with concern. Sarah picked up the shell, it was a conch, and blew into it. Suddenly, some green smoke appeared and a witch came. She was rather attractive, but had a smug on her face. She wore &amp;nbsp;a black pointy cap, a cricketer's suite, and high heel shoes. "How weird!" I thought. I took a step back, scared. I noticed that everyone in town had also smelt the smoke and stepped out of their houses for fresh air. They were shocked to see the weird witch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"HA HA HA HA HA," she wickedly roared, "I am Bellatrix the witch, your queen from today! I'm going to have a feast tonight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh pa pa pa please don't, Bellatrix!" wept Joan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here's the deal," commanded the witch. "Everyone should get me all the money from their houses."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all huddled in the police station to discuss. Suddenly, I got an idea. I shared my idea with everyone excitedly. Mrs. Rosemary, the police, nodded grimly. "Susan, please go and get that book lying near the conch", said Mrs. Rosemary. "Sure mom!" said Susan as she went to fetch the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the plan?" asked Joan. "You'll see" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few seconds, Susan came back with the book. Mrs. Rosemary flipped the pages looking here and there. It was in some other language that unfortunately none of us could understand. "Hey! what's this?!" cried Sarah, pointing at a picture in the book. I looked carefully at the picture. "Got it!" screamed Joan, making everyone jump. "What does it mean?" asked Mrs. Rosemary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It means that if water touches a witch, she will die!&amp;nbsp;Why don't we get buckets of water and throw it on the witch?" said Hermione, a 5th grader. She was a pretty girl with curly hair and was very intelligent. She was also very popular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not a bad idea", said Mrs. Rosemary. So, everyone got some water in buckets. Even Charles, my little brother, got to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey Bellatrix!" I called boldly, "we're here to attack you".&lt;br /&gt;"Is that so?" said Bellatrix, "we will see".&lt;br /&gt;"Everyone get ready!" shouted Mrs. Rosemary, "Go! Attack!"&lt;br /&gt;Joan, Sarah, and I swiftly attacked with water by pouring it on Bellatrix.&lt;br /&gt;"Keep it up!" Hermione called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, the witch kept disappearing. "You can not fight me" laughed Bellatrix. After one hour of this, everyone was tired. Sarah slept off on the road. Charles who was near the witch started crying out of fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Charles!", Mrs Hayes rushed towards her son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Charles was crying, a tear fell on Bellatrix, and she was destroyed once and for all! "What have you done! Boo hoo hoo" she squealed as she disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yay!" erupted everyone in delight. "Let's celebrate!" said Joan. I gave Charles a big Thumbs Up! Sarah, Joan, and I danced in joy. Finally, the story ended with Joan falling down the second time. "Joan! Not again!!" chorused Sarah and I together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3910046642081392240?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3910046642081392240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3910046642081392240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3910046642081392240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3910046642081392240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/allison-and-witch.html' title='Allison and the witch'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D83ibg0y0ZE/Ti1_b1zYLPI/AAAAAAAAADM/ve28KZQWIR4/s72-c/three-little-girl-friends.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1295330203478812486</id><published>2011-07-25T10:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T10:07:27.639-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bird'/><title type='text'>Woodpecker and a boy (a poem)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;A poem I wrote in my English class today.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s-vf6tey5pM/Ti133mt2BaI/AAAAAAAAADA/-EV9egp7GL8/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s-vf6tey5pM/Ti133mt2BaI/AAAAAAAAADA/-EV9egp7GL8/s200/images.jpg" width="168" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YabruATSEiU/Ti14NHAjzrI/AAAAAAAAADE/WWRQhSHVqNE/s1600/images+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YabruATSEiU/Ti14NHAjzrI/AAAAAAAAADE/WWRQhSHVqNE/s200/images+%25281%2529.jpg" width="135" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was sitting on a tree&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;humming like a bee&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;when suddenly there was a boy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;who hit me a with a toy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He thought he was the best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh! that mean old pest!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He hit me on my legs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and almost cracked my eggs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He made me feel hurt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;so, I went to peck on his shirt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ou! he started to yelp&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Someone help! help!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then he said I won't do it again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;from now on, I'll be your friend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1295330203478812486?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1295330203478812486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1295330203478812486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1295330203478812486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1295330203478812486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/07/woodpecker-and-boy-poem.html' title='Woodpecker and a boy (a poem)'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s-vf6tey5pM/Ti133mt2BaI/AAAAAAAAADA/-EV9egp7GL8/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-166682012646843665</id><published>2011-06-14T10:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T10:13:06.038-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Come Soon, Monsoon! - A skit by Pratya</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-yVjBzYObeYM/TfdrMRFeJ7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/1oM-DZEENuA/%25255BUNSET%25255D.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Narrator (Boy 3):&lt;/strong&gt; It was a beautiful day in Bangalore. Some boys and girls from Vidyashilp Academy had just got back home from school.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Yippeee! It&amp;rsquo;s a very nice and sunny day! Let&amp;rsquo;s go out and play, everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Yes! I want to play Cricket!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; I want to go skipping!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Let&amp;rsquo;s all take our bicycles out and go cycling!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy2 &amp;amp; Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Yay let&amp;rsquo;s all go out and have some fun!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Everyone pretends to be skipping or playing cricket. After a little time..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;The kids had just started playing their games outside. But then, suddenly..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Hey! The clouds are getting darker. I think it&amp;rsquo;s going to rain!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; The rain always spoils our fun. Why should it rain every evening?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh it must be the Monsoon our English teacher was telling us about!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;1:&lt;/strong&gt; Monsoon? What soon? What is it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh don&amp;rsquo;t you know? Monsoon is a yearly weather pattern where parts of India get lot of rain and thunderstorms.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Well whatever this Monsoon is, I don&amp;rsquo;t like it! It spoilt our evening.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Everyone:&lt;/strong&gt; &amp;ldquo;We don&amp;rsquo;t like this monsoon! It&amp;rsquo;s no fun at all&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Everyone puts a sad face and start walking away.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Why don&amp;rsquo;t you all come to my house? My mom is making some snacks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Good idea! Let&amp;rsquo;s go.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Knock Knock&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Hi mom! What&amp;rsquo;s there to eat?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Mom (Girl 3):&lt;/strong&gt; Veggie cutlets, son!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Wow! These cutlets are really yummy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Yes Mom, how did you make them so tasty?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Mom:&lt;/strong&gt; Well, your dad got some fresh vegetables from the market. Do you know that because of the wonderful monsoon we&amp;rsquo;re having this year, farmers are able to grow really healthy crops and we are getting to enjoy great food!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh Wow! So that&amp;rsquo;s what monsoons are all about! They are really nice!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 2:&lt;/strong&gt; And, we were just complaining about them!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;All boys and girls look to the sky and say: Thank you Dear Monsoon! Come again very soon!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-166682012646843665?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/166682012646843665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=166682012646843665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/166682012646843665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/166682012646843665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/come-soon-monsoon-skit-by-pratya_14.html' title='Come Soon, Monsoon! - A skit by Pratya'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-yVjBzYObeYM/TfdrMRFeJ7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/1oM-DZEENuA/s72-c/%25255BUNSET%25255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-16144924235274639</id><published>2011-06-14T10:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T10:08:27.728-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skit'/><title type='text'>Come Soon Monsoon - A skit by Pratya</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-yVjBzYObeYM/TfdrMRFeJ7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/1oM-DZEENuA/%25255BUNSET%25255D.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Narrator (Boy 3):&lt;/strong&gt; It was a beautiful day in Bangalore. Some boys and girls from Vidyashilp Academy had just got back home from school.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Yippeee! It&amp;rsquo;s a very nice and sunny day! Let&amp;rsquo;s go out and play, everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Yes! I want to play Cricket!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; I want to go skipping!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Let&amp;rsquo;s all take our bicycles out and go cycling!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy2 &amp;amp; Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Yay let&amp;rsquo;s all go out and have some fun!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Everyone pretends to be skipping or playing cricket. After a little time..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Narrator:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;The kids had just started playing their games outside. But then, suddenly..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Hey! The clouds are getting darker. I think it&amp;rsquo;s going to rain!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; The rain always spoils our fun. Why should it rain every evening?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh it must be the Monsoon our English teacher was telling us about!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;1:&lt;/strong&gt; Monsoon? What soon? What is it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh don&amp;rsquo;t you know? Monsoon is a yearly weather pattern where parts of India get lot of rain and thunderstorms.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Well whatever this Monsoon is, I don&amp;rsquo;t like it! It spoilt our evening.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Everyone:&lt;/strong&gt; &amp;ldquo;We don&amp;rsquo;t like this monsoon! It&amp;rsquo;s no fun at all&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Everyone puts a sad face and start walking away.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Why don&amp;rsquo;t you all come to my house? My mom is making some snacks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Good idea! Let&amp;rsquo;s go.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;Knock Knock&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Hi mom! What&amp;rsquo;s there to eat?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Mom (Girl 3):&lt;/strong&gt; Veggie cutlets, son!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 2:&lt;/strong&gt; Wow! These cutlets are really yummy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Yes Mom, how did you make them so tasty?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Mom:&lt;/strong&gt; Well, your dad got some fresh vegetables from the market. Do you know that because of the wonderful monsoon we&amp;rsquo;re having this year, farmers are able to grow really healthy crops and we are getting to enjoy great food!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Girl 1:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh Wow! So that&amp;rsquo;s what monsoons are all about! They are really nice!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&lt;strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;Boy 2:&lt;/strong&gt; And, we were just complaining about them!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing"&gt;All boys and girls look to the sky and say: Thank you Dear Monsoon! Come again very soon!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-16144924235274639?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/16144924235274639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=16144924235274639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/16144924235274639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/16144924235274639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/come-soon-monsoon-skit-by-pratya.html' title='Come Soon Monsoon - A skit by Pratya'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-yVjBzYObeYM/TfdrMRFeJ7I/AAAAAAAAAC8/1oM-DZEENuA/s72-c/%25255BUNSET%25255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4653112776032280926</id><published>2011-06-09T12:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T12:19:05.953-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacations'/><title type='text'>Summer Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;During my holidays, I went to Paris. It was a pretty city. We saw Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame (a church), and Disneyland. In Disneyland, my dad and I went on a ride called Space Mountain. I closed my eyes because there were so many loops! We also went in a boat which took us to see beautiful bridges on River Seine. It was fun. Our station's name was Glaciere. We would catch a Metro and go to other stations from there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After a few days, we went to Phoenix, USA. I met my cousins and their dog Simba. He's fun to play with! We all enjoyed hiking and bowling together. I also got to walk Simba to the park.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next, we went to Hawaii. Everyday me and my brother would go to the beache. I also went to a Polynesian Center. It was fun watching the dances. My hote's name was Hilton. All girls wore flowers in Hawaii. It was hot there!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next, we came back to Phoenix. I was glad to be in their cosy house. Then we went to New Jersey. I stayed in my friend Shalini's house. We visited our old friends.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally we returned to Bangalore. We then went to Tirupati. I met my grandparents. My cousins Aditya and Anjali also came. We all went to Tirumal Hills and stayed in a cottage. We went to the temple there. My brother and Aditya got their heads shaved. After two days, we went back to Tirupati. I said Bye to my grandparents and took my cousins to Bangalore. We watched movies, played games, and went to the park. We also went to Innovative Film City. Aditya, my aunt, and I did pottery. Soon they left. It was a nice holiday and I'm thankful to my parents!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-- Pratya, IV E&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4653112776032280926?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4653112776032280926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4653112776032280926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4653112776032280926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4653112776032280926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-vacation.html' title='Summer Vacation'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3443890958426646322</id><published>2011-04-07T08:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T08:33:31.936-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Circle of kindness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o8q2i5XiiGg/TZ2uSDv884I/AAAAAAAAACM/cHSS_hIL_gs/s1600/butterfly.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="127" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o8q2i5XiiGg/TZ2uSDv884I/AAAAAAAAACM/cHSS_hIL_gs/s200/butterfly.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TQbU_e2B7Bs/TZ2tezIXeqI/AAAAAAAAACI/wgwiczJ9bIM/s1600/kindness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TQbU_e2B7Bs/TZ2tezIXeqI/AAAAAAAAACI/wgwiczJ9bIM/s200/kindness.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ucu1JomhaAQ/TZ2uSxLmFHI/AAAAAAAAACQ/_58rvO4iFyw/s1600/puppy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="112" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ucu1JomhaAQ/TZ2uSxLmFHI/AAAAAAAAACQ/_58rvO4iFyw/s200/puppy.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once there was a butterfly named Flutter. She was very kind. One day she was flying around. Suddenly, she saw a little ant carrying a big sack. "Here, why don't I help you?" asked Flutter.'' Thanks alot '' said the ant.&lt;br /&gt;'' Remember,Kindness &amp;nbsp;is a virtue. Pay it forward."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the ant went strolling. Out of &amp;nbsp;the corner of his eye he saw&amp;nbsp;a cow moaning. Remembering what Flutter said, he asked "what happened?" "My back is itching," said the cow. "I'll scratch it," said the ant and he did so. "Oh Thank You!" said Enid the cow. "Kindness is a virtue.&amp;nbsp;Pay it forward." said the ant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, Enid was munching grass.Suddenly she saw a little puppy crying bitterly. "Waz appin?" she asked with her mouth full of grass. "I am lost" sobbed Cutie the puppy. Feeling sorry for the puppy, Enid asked "where do you live?" "With Mary Ann," said Cutie. "Why! I know her!" exclaimed Enid. So she took Cutie to Mary Ann. "Thanks a lot!" said Cutie. "Kindness is a virtue.&amp;nbsp;Pay it forward." mooed Enid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Mary Ann took Cutie on a walk. Suddenly some mean boys came and pushed little Mary Ann into the pool. "Mary Ann!" squealed Cutie and at once went to Mary Ann's rescue. "Gosh! Thanks!" said Mary Ann to Cutie. "Kindness is a virtue.&amp;nbsp;Pay it forward." yelped Cutie wisely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day, Mary Ann again took Cutie for a walk. Then she saw a frog hopping. Suddenly a man came and trapped the poor frog. Mary Ann felt sorry for the little frog. So she boldly told the man "Stop it!" Fortunately, the man was a coward and he ran away. "Thank you!" croaked the frog. "Kindness is a virtue.&amp;nbsp;Pay it forward." said Mary Ann.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, Froggie went flycatching. Suddenly, he saw poor Flutter stuck in a nasty web. "Oh no! a frog is coming to eat me" murmured Flutter. To his surprise, Froggie said, "don't worry, I will save you", and he carried Flutter out of the web. "Thanks" said Flutter. "Kindness is a virtue" said Froggie, making Flutter blush. "Seems my message passed around in a circle" said Flutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone watching immediately shouted "KINDNESS IS A VIRTUEEEEEEE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;Moral:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Be kind to others. Others will be kind to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3443890958426646322?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3443890958426646322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3443890958426646322' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3443890958426646322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3443890958426646322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2011/04/circle-of-kindness.html' title='Circle of kindness'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o8q2i5XiiGg/TZ2uSDv884I/AAAAAAAAACM/cHSS_hIL_gs/s72-c/butterfly.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-2813502683959171695</id><published>2010-11-03T01:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T01:35:09.372-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boarding school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abby'/><title type='text'>Book 10: Abby is joining a boarding school!</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=1405229144&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="content"&gt;I'm very sorry because I'm starting boarding school. Over there,  we have beginning, half, and end of the terms. We have to catch a train  to go there. For one year, I won't see my parents!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abby, Abby!" my mom called, "stop day dreaming and come and eat dinner."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure ma, coming!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was still worried about the school. I would start day after  tomorrow. But I felt a little excited. Probably i will make new friends.  I slept in bed dreaming about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I ate breakfast and went out to play. Suddenly, I saw a girl lookig sad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi, what happened?" I asked her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The day after tomorrow, I will start boarding school!" she answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me too!" I said, "what ever is your name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Elizabeth Allen. you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abby Perrywinkle. Oh! let's be friends!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we played everyday. One day she got me some sweets. I stared at them in delight! Finally, the day started in boarding school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You better watch out Abby! And remember to write letters to your  parents. In Series number 2, check Abby's boarding school adventures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-2813502683959171695?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2813502683959171695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=2813502683959171695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2813502683959171695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2813502683959171695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/11/book-10-abby-is-joining-boarding-school.html' title='Book 10: Abby is joining a boarding school!'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-9063553209401848856</id><published>2010-10-24T00:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T00:30:15.571-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dubai'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abby'/><title type='text'>Book 9: Happy Holidays!</title><content type='html'>Hi, introducing myself. I am Abby Perrywinkle. My friends call me Abby. Yay! my holidays have started!! Tomorrow I will board a flight to Dubai. There are a lot of Muslims over there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=1892147149&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;"Abby, Abby!" my mom called, "it is time for bed"&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;"Oui Mere" (yes mom) I said. (note: Abby lives in Paris and knows French).&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;I slept soundly. In the morning, it was time to leave. I grabbed my luggage and jumped on the scooter. Buttercup sat on my lap. Soon we left. We then reached the airport. We had a checkin and then were in the flight.&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;All children were given toys. We are now in the sky. We will land in two hours. We were soon flying. Half hoer over. I watched TV to entertain myself. Soon we reached Dubai.&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;We took a bus to the hotel. Its name was 4 Points. When we're in the hotel, dad thought let's go to the beach. We quickly changed and left. It was fun playing in the beach. now it was time to go back. We had a nice dinner. I slept soundly.&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;The next day we had to go to the tallest building in the world Burj Khalifa. We went up to the 124th floor. Soon we went back to Four Points.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Next day we went to Wild Wadi (waterpark). Me and my dad went on huge water slides. "Hey dad" I said, "let's go on the that big tube!"&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;We had lots of fun in Dubai. We event went to a play area. But I missed my friends. I remembered Decent Lucy and Funny Rocky Ray. Next day it was time to leave. We took a flight.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Good old Paris!! I met Lucy and we hugged each other. Tomorrow we will be starting Boarding School!!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-9063553209401848856?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/9063553209401848856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=9063553209401848856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/9063553209401848856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/9063553209401848856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/10/book-9-happy-holidays.html' title='Book 9: Happy Holidays!'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7622220413464579793</id><published>2010-10-24T00:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T00:22:13.338-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='robbers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abby'/><title type='text'>Book 8: Graduation Day Adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0635016486&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi I am Abby! Well you won't believe it! Today is the last day of school. We are going to graduate. We have to wear white costumes and a hat. Right now I'm getting ready. Soon I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Abby! you look so cute!" said Lucy. Me and Lucy sat next to each other in the auditorium. 1st it was first grade's turn to graduate. They sang a song and wished everyone happy holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I heard a soft crash. I quietly slipped outside to see what it was. A tiny trap door outside had been opened. I went inside and crept down the stairs. "This is weird" I thought. I peeped through a hole in the wall to see what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to my astonishment, there were burglars!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went as white as a sheet. I climbed up the stairs. Soon when I told my teacher about this, she told a policeman. The robbers were put in jail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now in the auditorium, my class was going on stage. I also went. First everyone gave opinions on school. Then we held hands and went back in front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the graduation was over, in class when my teacher was praising me, Rocky stood up and said "what happened? spill the beans!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my teacher told them the burglar story, they went mad (crazy!). They patted me on the back and threw a party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just never know what old Abby is up tooooo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7622220413464579793?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7622220413464579793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7622220413464579793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7622220413464579793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7622220413464579793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/10/book-8-graduation-day-adventure.html' title='Book 8: Graduation Day Adventure'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-9001023858856781719</id><published>2010-10-24T00:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T00:15:25.529-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abby'/><title type='text'>Book 7: Buttercup's Blues</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0061714860&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi! I'm Abby! I'm soo excited because tomorrow is my birthday. I am going to invite Rocky, Lucy, Jessie, Sm, Andrea, Max, Lavanya, and many more people. I don't want anyone to feel left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly my mom started to call me. "Abby Abby".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up to her. "Can you give these invitations to the people you want to invite?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok mom" and so I skipped happily outside. I met a lot of my friends. Soon it was time to go home. I slept dreaming of the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day it was time! All the guests had come. It was fun playing games and eating. Only one person felt miserable. And that was my kitten Buttercup. She was being left out of everything. I had not noticed that. It was a problem for her. Even while cutting the cake she howled. I didn't hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon the guests left. Only then I realised about Buttercup. She ran up to me and purred loudly. I hugged her. To show her I was sorry I brought fish and milk. But that dint make her happy. I sat and thought what will make her happy. Then I had an idea. I hugged Buttercup and kissed her. Now she was happy! This was the most problem-solution party I ever had in my life!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-9001023858856781719?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/9001023858856781719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=9001023858856781719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/9001023858856781719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/9001023858856781719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/10/book-7-buttercups-blues.html' title='Book 7: Buttercup&apos;s Blues'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3067935850559639116</id><published>2010-09-20T11:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T11:17:13.852-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bluebird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kindness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='picnic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abby'/><title type='text'>Book 6: Abby Goes for a Picnic</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By:   Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, I'm Abby&lt;b&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;Today I'm going for a picnic. I'm so excited! I took my pet kitten Buttercup and jumped on the scooter. Soon me and my family left for the picnic. Ah finally! we reached the hill. Then we started eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, in the corner of my eyes I saw a bluebird crying! I quickly went to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abby! Abby! where are you?" my parents called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coming!" I answered.&lt;br /&gt;The bluebird had been hurt. So, I carefully helped it. Soon it was alright. It smiled at me and flew away. Then my family and I went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening, my parents let me go out and play. Suddenly while I was playing I tripped on a rock and fell down. Well, you would think I was crying! Instead, I was laughing. Somebody was helping and tickling me. And who shall that someone be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one but the bluebird!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we became the best animal and human friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;Problem:&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Bluebird was hurt&lt;b&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;Then Abby was hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution:&lt;/b&gt; Abby helped the bird. Then the bird helped Abby.&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;it&gt;Kindness always returns.&lt;/it&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3067935850559639116?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3067935850559639116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3067935850559639116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3067935850559639116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3067935850559639116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/09/book-6-abby-goes-for-picnic.html' title='Book 6: Abby Goes for a Picnic'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-2998401132513084719</id><published>2010-08-04T11:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T11:26:03.932-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Book 5: Lucy's Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=1564923584&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was taking my kitten for a walk on Saturday. Suddenly Lucy came running up to me. Before I could say hi she pushed an envelope in my hand. I went home to open it. It was a b'day invitation! My mom said I may go. In the night I dreamt about what I will gie Lucy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was Lucy's party. But I was coughing. Mom said I can't go if I am coughing. "But ma" I began. "No sweetie, some other time" she said. I didn't go to the party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On monday, Lucy was very angry with me. She wouldn't come with me at home time. While I was walking home, I tripped over a stone and fell. Behind was the grinning Lucy. "Lucy, I'm very sorry" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had a plan. The next day I stuffed a present in Lucy's cubby. In assembly she had to announce who gave the best gift. This is what she said.&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"3rd place is Jessie Scarlett! She gave me a barbie set"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"2nd place is Andrea Young! she gave me a cute little hamster."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And finally, oh finally. FIRST place is ABBY PERRYWINKLE! She gave me a heart-shaped pillow which said LOVE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on stage. Lucy gave me a big hug and said "Sorry Abby"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there was only one word everyone could chant. And that was "LOVE!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-2998401132513084719?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2998401132513084719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=2998401132513084719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2998401132513084719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2998401132513084719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/08/book-5-lucys-birthday.html' title='Book 5: Lucy&apos;s Birthday!'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7868373459929126807</id><published>2010-08-04T11:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T11:22:38.893-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Book 4. Abby is a rascal</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=1584859830&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt; By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have my trophy from the race!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I was walking with Jessie (my friend) to school. "Could I come to your house tomorrow?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"&lt;/b&gt;Ok, but it's going to be Tuesday tomorrow!"&lt;br /&gt;"It's a holiday!" protested Jessie.&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's see" I said.&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In school our teacher said the same thing. "Se!" Jessie said. "Ok you can come" I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day Jessie and I played at our house. "Let's take a nap" Jessie said. "Ok".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of the nap, I scratched Jessie, puller her hair, snatched her clip, and did more naughty things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop it Abby!" she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon mom called us for tea. I told mom that Jessie was sleeping. I tickled Jessie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"EXCUSE ME, MISS PERRYWINKLE ABBY!" she shouted. "Stop being cheeky!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what!" I said, "Today is my mischief day!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's the funny part on how the story ended. When Jessie had to leave, she said, "Seriously, Abby, you are a silly rascal and it was the most fun I had with you today!" and gave me a biiiig hug.&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7868373459929126807?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7868373459929126807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7868373459929126807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7868373459929126807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7868373459929126807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/08/book-4-abby-is-rascal.html' title='Book 4. Abby is a rascal'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-633616239956325549</id><published>2010-08-04T11:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T11:23:34.523-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Book 3: Go Abby go!</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=1584857110&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt; By: Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi! Nice to meet you again! I am Abby. I was going to school with Rocky Ray my friend. In school the teacher announced that we are going to have ar ace at the farm. Everyone will make partners to sit with in the bus. I winked at my&amp;nbsp; best friend Lucy. In recess we discussed about it. It was all planned. Me and Lucy will sit in the 2nd last seat. Rocky will set sit behind us. When I went home I told my mom about it. She said "Ok you may go, BUT BE CAREFUL!" Ok I said. Parents are always serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon it was the day of the field trip. Me and Lucy went to the back as we had planned. Next to us sat Brittany Hauser and Courtney Wilcox. All four of us discussed how fun it will be. Soon we reached the farm. Everyone picked an animal to ride a race. I picked a cow. Soon the race began. I was last. But soon I beat up everyone can&amp;nbsp; came second. Lavanya was before me. She was so fast that.. SHE FELL! Ih oh! I thought. I got off my cow and made a dive for Lavanya. We both were the last to reach. But I was shocked as the referee said our true friend winner was ABYY PERIWINKLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone said "Go ABBY GO" I was so happy! Lavanya had tears in her eyes. I went to pick up my trophy. And guess what still was said?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Go ABBY GO!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-633616239956325549?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/633616239956325549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=633616239956325549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/633616239956325549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/633616239956325549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/08/book-3-go-abby-go.html' title='Book 3: Go Abby go!'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-8839835780602239647</id><published>2010-08-04T11:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T11:24:11.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Book 2: Abby at the beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=0803734166&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;By:   Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am Abby. Yippee! Yippee! I'm gonig to the beach."&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurriedly ate my breakfast and changed into my beach clothes. I quickly yelled "Mom, Dad! Are you coming?"&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;And of course they replied "coming Abby!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went fast to the middle seat of our scooter and yelled "so long" to my kitten. It was a long drive on the schooter to the beach. Finally we reached there. I jumped off and went into the sand. And guess what! I saw my best friend Lucy Howe! "Lucy!!" I said. "Oh Hi Abby! Hi Ms Diana! Hi Mr Peter!" Lucy was the girl who was the topper in everything in studies and had beautiful manners. I said "why dont we lie down for sometime?" I asked. "Sure" said Lucy and we lied down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, Lucy poured a bucket of water on me. "Stop Lucy!" I yelled. She made a crab pinch me. "oooo! Im going to smack you LUCY HOWELL!"" Then that Lucy Howell put an enormous stone on me. I was going to smack her very hard but I realized that this had been a dream :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-8839835780602239647?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8839835780602239647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=8839835780602239647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8839835780602239647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8839835780602239647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/08/book-2-abby-at-beach.html' title='Book 2: Abby at the beach'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-5419467824407039068</id><published>2010-06-30T09:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T09:04:40.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Book One: Abby in the Jungle</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By:   Pratya&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Three words: Strawberry, Jungle, Suprise&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word-giver: Saathi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Abby. One day, I was eating&amp;nbsp; my breakfast. And this is what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started with the strawberry I was eating. After that, I went out on my bike to the jungle. I happened to see lots of strawberry trees which was strange. I kept exploring. I saw my breakfast cereals growing on plants! This was all strange. Then I saw a Candy Land which was made out of candies, totally. And guess what it said?! It said - "Abby's home". I went inside. I saw my mom. She said "Hi Abby! I got a gift for you!" And I got two surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 1st was that I got a present which had a small glass, which showed me in the jungle. I was stunned!&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd one was --- this was all just a dream!!!! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&amp;nbsp;  &lt;iframe align="left" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=alertpedia-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B0031Y8018&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr" style="height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;Did you  like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me  three new words!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-5419467824407039068?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5419467824407039068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=5419467824407039068' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5419467824407039068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5419467824407039068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/06/book-one-abby-in-jungle.html' title='Book One: Abby in the Jungle'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4846367897446517947</id><published>2010-03-07T01:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:28:52.202-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adi and Miss. More</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Idli, Jupiter, Earth&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; Word-giver: Aditya&lt;br /&gt;Date: March, 6, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is a poem in the tune of Ms Mary Mack. -&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; Pratya&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a boy named Adi Adi Adi&lt;br /&gt;Who loved to eat Idli Idli Idli&lt;br /&gt;He lived on Jupiter Jupiter Jupiter&lt;br /&gt;When he came to earth he said "er er er"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since his name was Adi Adi Adi&lt;br /&gt;Everyone called him Padi Padi Padi&lt;br /&gt;So he told his Dad Dad Dad&lt;br /&gt;What everyone said said said&lt;br /&gt;But his dad was in bed bed bed&lt;br /&gt;So he made a wish wish wish&lt;br /&gt;And ate some fish fish fish&lt;br /&gt;Obviously in a dish dish dish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a knock on the door door door&lt;br /&gt;It was Miss More More More&lt;br /&gt;She had so much greed greed greed&lt;br /&gt;Because of her name indeed deed deed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Adi tried to stop her, stop her, stop her&lt;br /&gt;And so he did did did&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And everyone was happy happy happy&lt;br /&gt;And they said "Go Adi, Adi, diiiiii!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem:&lt;/b&gt; Everyone was teasing Adi and Ms More was very greedy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;/b&gt;Adi changed Ms More and Everyone praised him! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: Do something good and people will stop teasing you&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4846367897446517947?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4846367897446517947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4846367897446517947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4846367897446517947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4846367897446517947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/03/adi-and-miss-more_07.html' title='Adi and Miss. More'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7804480144778653601</id><published>2010-03-07T00:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T01:27:02.937-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ideas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='invention'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='butterfly'/><title type='text'>Toothbrushes and Dogs</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By: Pratya &lt;br /&gt;Words: Butterfly + Shoe, Toothbrush + Dog, Snake + Backpack &lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Daddy&lt;br /&gt;Date: March, 6th, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Note: The idea of this "story" is to come up with new ideas by using RANDOM words. This is a trick for lateral thinking of creative ideas. - Dad.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Toothbrush + Dog: &lt;/b&gt;Tooth brush can bark (&lt;i&gt;give an alarm&lt;/i&gt;) when you don't brush your teeth on time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem solved:&lt;/b&gt; We forget to brush our teeth sometimes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Snake + Backpack: &lt;/b&gt;A backpack that changes its colors (&lt;i&gt;or design&lt;/i&gt;) like a snake sheds its skin every month! For example, one month Hannah Montana, and the next month Little Mermaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem solved:&lt;/b&gt; The same backpack design gets boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Shoe + Butterfly: &lt;/b&gt;A shoe which has antennas to throw out mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem solved: &lt;/b&gt;The shoe can clean its self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: &lt;/b&gt;We can come up with new ideas by combining unrelated words! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7804480144778653601?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7804480144778653601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7804480144778653601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7804480144778653601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7804480144778653601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/03/toothbrushes-and-dogs.html' title='Toothbrushes and Dogs'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-5213676211114578357</id><published>2010-02-14T06:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T06:03:24.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bedtime Poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Peacock, Rain, Dance&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Ammamma&lt;br /&gt;Date: Feb, 14, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A peacock was prancing and prancing&lt;br /&gt;Then a peahen came dancing and dancing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But soon it started to rain&lt;br /&gt;So the peacock laughed and sang:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh rain! Oh rain! you give us pain&lt;br /&gt;Oh rain! Oh rain! not all in vain.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, don't feel sad&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing bad -"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The peahen shouted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Bad rain! Bad rain!&lt;br /&gt;you give us pain&lt;br /&gt;All the opposite of&amp;nbsp; that peacock's song"&lt;br /&gt;And she stomped away "BONG BONG BONG"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The peacock began to prance&lt;br /&gt;So the peahen said let's go away and dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But soon it was night&lt;br /&gt;so they switched off the light&lt;br /&gt;and yelled "good night!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-5213676211114578357?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5213676211114578357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=5213676211114578357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5213676211114578357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5213676211114578357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/02/bedtime-poem.html' title='A Bedtime Poem'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-5936167040468738550</id><published>2010-02-07T02:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T02:59:27.152-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>The boy and his dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By:  Rohan&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Boy, Lost, Dream&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Tanvi&lt;br /&gt;Date: Feb, 7, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there lived a boy. He lived in a house in Singapore. His name was Lookie and he was 7 years old. One day he wanted to play outside. So he went out and played. But he got lost. He got really scared and screamed out. Actually, it was just a dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem: Lookie got scared&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: It was just a dream&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: Don't have to be scared of dreams!&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-5936167040468738550?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5936167040468738550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=5936167040468738550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5936167040468738550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5936167040468738550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/02/boy-and-his-dream.html' title='The boy and his dream'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3644677369433814822</id><published>2010-01-10T08:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T08:23:44.523-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teacher'/><title type='text'>The questioning boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By:  Pratya (7y)&lt;br /&gt;Three words: boy, teacher, hug&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Date: 10, Jan, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/S0nUPLbwUNI/AAAAAAAAABc/1T_ZnRJZZEw/s1600-h/arthurtt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/S0nUPLbwUNI/AAAAAAAAABc/1T_ZnRJZZEw/s200/arthurtt.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a boy named Rohan. He was 4yrs old and lived in India. He always wanted to ask questions to his teachers. One day he went to his teacher Ms Rhoda and asked her a question like "what is this and what is that" and she answered it. This happened many times. Sometimes he also told her things. One day when he was telling her what had happened at his house, she had to keep on and on listening because it was a very long story. Then he went back to his desk. When he went home, he asked his mother something. &lt;br /&gt;She also had to answer his questions just like his teacher did. Then he went to his teacher and told her this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher said "I'm getting annoyed".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the boy said "I just wanted to tell you that I love you because you always answered my questions" and hugged his teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem: &lt;/b&gt;Rohan had to always ask his teacher something &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;/b&gt;At the end, he said something nice &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: &lt;/b&gt;Always listen. The teacher did not listen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3644677369433814822?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3644677369433814822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3644677369433814822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3644677369433814822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3644677369433814822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/questioning-boy.html' title='The questioning boy'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/S0nUPLbwUNI/AAAAAAAAABc/1T_ZnRJZZEw/s72-c/arthurtt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7617157837807158936</id><published>2010-01-10T05:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T05:45:50.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The clever monkey and the naughty boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt; By:  Rohan (5y)&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Cricket, monkey, playground&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 9, Jan, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there lived two naughty boys. They loved Cricket. Their names were Rohan and Ramu. One day, without telling their mothers, they went to a playground to play Cricket. But, they got lost. They were so scared. Then, a monkey came to help them. It found a path to their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they went to their house, they told their mothers that they will never go out without telling their mothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem: &lt;/b&gt;Rohan and Ramu got lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;/b&gt;The monkey found a path. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: Don't go out without telling your parents.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7617157837807158936?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7617157837807158936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7617157837807158936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7617157837807158936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7617157837807158936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/clevery-monkey-and-naughty-boys.html' title='The clever monkey and the naughty boys'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6152923421535956795</id><published>2010-01-02T02:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T08:07:40.782-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chimpanzee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><title type='text'>Susie's Tiger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2009-02/23/xin_4720206231356734056717.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 300px;" src="http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2009-02/23/xin_4720206231356734056717.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Tiger, Forest, Monkey / Chimpanzee&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: May Zhu and Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Date: 2, Jan, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There was once a girl named Susie. She lived in Africa. She had a small baby tiger cub as a pet. As days passed by, the cub grew up into a handsome tiger. Susie's mom told her that she had to return the tiger to the forest. "Aww" cried Susie. But she obeyed her mom and went to the forest. She left the tiger there and went back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tiger also started to miss Susie. But he made many nice friends because Susie had taught him how to be nice. His best friend was Flora, a chimpanzee. Every day, both of them would play happily. One fine day, Flora fell into the river. All the animals crowded around discussing what to do to save her. Then, suddenly, the tiger raised his hands. He whispered in their ears. They made a big rod and finally pulled Flora out. The first thing she asked was, "did King Wenacles the Lion save me?" "No" said the animals, "the tiger did". The chimpanzee hugged the tiger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day came. As the tiger was playing, an evil crazy monkey said "hmm I want to eat that tiger". He started chasing the tiger around. The tiger roared for help. Luckily Flora saw the danger and took the monkey and threw him away. The tiger said to himself "my best friend!". As for the monkey, he sat with his hands on his hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the tiger still missed his owner Susie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem:&lt;/b&gt; The chimpanzee fell in the water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;/b&gt;The tiger helped her and then the chimpanzee helped him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: &lt;/b&gt;If you help someone, they will help you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6152923421535956795?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6152923421535956795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6152923421535956795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6152923421535956795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6152923421535956795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/susies-tiger.html' title='Susie&apos;s Tiger'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3443940899621984612</id><published>2009-11-29T09:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T09:40:30.197-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='antelope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chimpanzee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><title type='text'>The Fast Snail</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Snail, Chimpanzee, Antelope&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Jyotish&lt;br /&gt;Date: 29, Nov, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;There was once a boy named Jyotish. He lived in Singapore. He always wanted a pet. He had to keep on asking his parents for one. But it was no good. His parents told him "if you are good, you will get a pet". Days and days passed and Jyotish behaved his best. One day his parents had a surprise for Jyotish. They were holding a Chimpanzee, Antelope, and a Snail! Jyotish screamed with joy "Yippee!" He grabbed the chimp and hugged it. Then he stared at the snail and antelope. He hugged them carefully. He tried to hold the antelope but it kept on slipping from his hand. Then finally he got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon, days passed by and the chimp grew bigger and bigger until he was as big as Hanuman! Jyotish was surprised. He took his animals and went to the forest to play. A lot of people gathered around them. They said, "let the antelope and the snail have a race". The antelope started teasing the snail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the race, the chimp (Hanuman) told the snail a trick. He took the snail up and put it on a skate. Then the race began. The antelope started running fast. The people cheered for it. Then the chimp gave the snail a little push with his hand. The skate went Zoooom and hit the finishing line. Wow, a surprise finish! The snail won!! The antelope learned his lesson not to show-off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem:&lt;/b&gt; 1. Jyothish wanted a pet.&lt;br /&gt;2. The antelope teased the snail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Chimp, antelope, and snail became his pets.&lt;br /&gt;2. Chimp put the snail on a skate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you are good, you'll get what you want.&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't show-off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3443940899621984612?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3443940899621984612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3443940899621984612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3443940899621984612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3443940899621984612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/11/fast-snail.html' title='The Fast Snail'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-5940281987623548134</id><published>2009-11-11T10:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T10:32:53.720-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mermaid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lavanya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainbow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><title type='text'>The pot of gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: mermaid, rainbow, banana&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Lavanya Aunty from Singapore&lt;br /&gt;Date: 11, Nov, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There once lived a mermaid named Kaylie. She lived in the Indian ocean near India. She was always kindhearted to everyone. One day when she was swimming in the ocean, she got very tired because it was night and very dark. She wished that it was not dark and she imagined that there was a big rainbow around her. But no rainbow came (of course!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Kaylie swam ashore. A wise monkey sitting by the shore read her mind. He was holding a banana. He broke into half and gave one piece to Kaylie who tried to catch it. But suddenly the banana tried into a pot of gold and Kaylie was astonished! Then a rainbow appeared from the pot. An Apple came from the red part of the rainbow, an orange from the orange part, a banana came from the yellow part, a Kiwi fruit came from the green part, a blueberry came from the blue part, grapes came from the indigo part, and finally a pomegranate came from the violet part. Kaylie ate half of each fruit and gave the rest to her friends. She and her friends enjoyed the picnic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A selfish fish passed by. It stopped when it saw the mermaids having a picnic. It sneaked to the pot of Gold near the rainbow and picked it up. The mermaids knew that the fish stole their pot of Gold. They swam to it and took the Gold right back and lived happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem: The mermaid did not like dark.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: The monkey gave her a rainbow and a pot of gold.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: Magic can happen.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-5940281987623548134?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5940281987623548134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=5940281987623548134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5940281987623548134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5940281987623548134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/11/pot-of-gold.html' title='The pot of gold'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6311713863748278850</id><published>2009-10-03T07:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T07:38:32.744-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singapore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='butterfly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><title type='text'>The magical butterfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Rohan&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Butterfly, Singapore, Light&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Date: 3, Oct, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there lived a butterfly named Sally. Sally flew to Singapore. In Singapore, it was light and bright. But, Sally did not want the light. Sally said "Abracadabra" and so the electricity went off. Sally was happy because there was no more light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem: There was light and Sally did not like it.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: Sally said abracadabra.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: Magic works.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6311713863748278850?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6311713863748278850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6311713863748278850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6311713863748278850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6311713863748278850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/10/magical-butterfly.html' title='The magical butterfly'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-3636344682334335777</id><published>2009-10-03T07:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T07:25:42.438-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singapore'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='butterfly'/><title type='text'>The foolish boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Singapore, Butterfly, Light&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Date: 3, Oct, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a boy named Mohan. He lived in Singapore. He loved to play with butterflies. His mother always told him "do your homework on your own. Then play with butterflies". So he obeyed. One day, when he went out to play, he saw a big butterfly. He thought it was going to harm him. He cried and cried until he ran home. Then he stopped crying. When he went to bed, he dreamed of that big butterfly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, he brushed and went downstairs for breakfast. He felt much better. When it came to going out to play, Mohan said "NO!". His mother asked "what happened?". Mohan told her the whole story in one breath. His mom took Mohan out and recognized the butterfly. She gave it some milk. The milk was shining because of the Sunlight. When the butterfly finished drinking, it told Mohan "I just wanted to be your friend!". Mohan felt foolish that he was scared of the butterfly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem: &lt;/b&gt;Mohan was scared of a butterfly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;/b&gt;It was not harmful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: &lt;/b&gt;Don't jump to conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-3636344682334335777?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/3636344682334335777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=3636344682334335777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3636344682334335777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/3636344682334335777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/10/foolish-boy.html' title='The foolish boy'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6491552996094830800</id><published>2009-09-20T06:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T06:44:16.796-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yoga'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><title type='text'>The girl who learned a monkey pose</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Monkey, Tree, Yoga&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 20, Sept, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Once upon a time, there was a girl named Kristen. She lived in Singapore. Every day, she went to Yoga classes. She did Tree pose. One day, when she went to Yoga, the teacher taught the class an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;asana&lt;/span&gt; called Monkey Pose. When the teacher showed them the pose, they fell down laughing - everybody except Kristen. Everyone surrounded her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She looks nervous!" said Bella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" everyone asked Kristen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't practice Yoga" said Kristen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You should learn how to laugh!" said a girl named Michelle who was very talkative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Kristen went home, she told her mother all the things she had to do. Her sister Natanya tickled Kristen to make her laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Kristen and her family went out hiking. They found a monkey picking Apples from a tree. When the monkey saw Kristen, he leapt on her. "Aaaah!" screamed Kristen. Then she realized that the monkey liked her. They both played and the monkey taught her how to behave like a monkey. After that, they had to pluck apples. Kristen was the only one who could climb the tree because the monkey helped her. When they went back home, Kristen ate dinner and went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next morning, when Kristen went to her Yoga class, she did the monkey pose very well. Everyone asked how she had learned it. She told them how the monkey taught her the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;asana&lt;/span&gt;. Her Yoga teacher told the whole class to clap for her. So everyone clapped. When it was time to go, Kristen went to the terrace. Sitting there was the monkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Kristen did not how to do the monkey pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;The monkey taught her the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;asana&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral:&lt;/b&gt; Animals can teach people.&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6491552996094830800?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6491552996094830800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6491552996094830800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6491552996094830800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6491552996094830800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/09/girl-who-learned-monkey-pose.html' title='The girl who learned a monkey pose'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-142674156764763665</id><published>2009-09-20T05:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T05:48:17.792-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yoga'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tree'/><title type='text'>The monkey who could do Yoga</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Rohan&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Monkey, Tree, Yoga&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 20, Sept, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Once upon a time, there lived a tree in a forest. The tree's name was Max. It was an Oak tree. Max wanted to look for a monkey named Alex. So then the tree found him. They both walked into a huge forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a big monster came and said "can I eat you?". But the monkey just kicked the monster out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know why the monkey and the tree were Brave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because they did Yoga!!!&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Problem:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A very scary monster came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Solution: &lt;/b&gt;The monkey and the tree did Yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moral: &lt;/b&gt;Yoga makes you brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-142674156764763665?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/142674156764763665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=142674156764763665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/142674156764763665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/142674156764763665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/09/monkey-who-could-do-yoga.html' title='The monkey who could do Yoga'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1180337250374419673</id><published>2009-09-07T11:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T11:49:45.562-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wise'/><title type='text'>The Wise Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Moral: "The oldest is the wisest"&lt;br /&gt;Giver: Teacher&lt;br /&gt;Date: 7, Sept, 09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;In a big forest, there lived a cat, a dog, and a frog. One day they went to a river. The river was shallow. The three friends sat beside it. Then they saw a crocodile and they ran away from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After several months, they came back to the same river. By then it had rained a lot and th river had become full. The wise cat, "Let's not go in the water". The dog said "you are just scared because you are old". The dog and the frog jumped in the river. Suddenly the crocodile started chasing them. They ran to the cat said, "Oh wise cat! We learned our lesson. The oldest is the wisest!"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1180337250374419673?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1180337250374419673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1180337250374419673' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1180337250374419673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1180337250374419673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/09/wise-cat.html' title='The Wise Cat'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-2110947817703150791</id><published>2009-08-31T11:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T11:24:06.394-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><title type='text'>Monkey and the secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: Monkey and the secret&lt;br /&gt;By:  Rohan (Pratya's little brother)&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Tiger, Monkey, Forest&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 8/31/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Once upon a time there lived a girl named Radhika. She lived in a forest. But a tiger came and the tiger wanted to trick the girl. But when the tiger was there, a monkey told the girl a secret that "get an axe and the tiger will run away!". Radhika got an axe and she threw it at the tiger. The tiger ran away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;Problem: The tiger tricked the girl.&lt;br /&gt;Solution: The tiger was scared of Radhika.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-2110947817703150791?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2110947817703150791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=2110947817703150791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2110947817703150791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2110947817703150791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/monkey-and-secret.html' title='Monkey and the secret'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-446867693904801085</id><published>2009-08-30T08:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T01:27:58.939-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/Sppt8vq69xI/AAAAAAAAABU/R5nVpX1dILg/s1600-h/great_shield_of_earth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/Sppt8vq69xI/AAAAAAAAABU/R5nVpX1dILg/s320/great_shield_of_earth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375729995576178450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title: The Great Shield of Earth&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Date: 8/30/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is my school homework to come up with the 8th wonder of the world)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Purpose: &lt;/span&gt;Long ago, an asteroid hit the Earth and destroyed the dinosaurs. There are still many asteroids in the space. We don't want them to destroy us! The great shield of earth will protect us from such dangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Unique features: &lt;/span&gt;My idea is to build a great wall around the Earth just like the great wall of China. But, we also need sun light, so it should be like a mesh window. The mesh will be made out of strong metal. It will be supported by strong pillars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why is it the eighth wonder? &lt;/span&gt;It is the world's biggest structure. It is not just around India, it is around the whole world! It is the first wonder built in space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Story behind the structure: &lt;/span&gt;First I wanted to build a rainbow palace. My mom's idea was a Glass castle in the middle of the Sea. My brother's idea was a house on Jupiter. My dad's idea was a floating city in the sky. Then I thought about the sky and the great wall of China, and this idea came into my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-446867693904801085?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/446867693904801085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=446867693904801085' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/446867693904801085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/446867693904801085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/gread-shield-of-earth-eigth-wonder-of.html' title=''/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/Sppt8vq69xI/AAAAAAAAABU/R5nVpX1dILg/s72-c/great_shield_of_earth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6029117759274238283</id><published>2009-08-23T07:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T07:39:01.223-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ganesha'/><title type='text'>A mouse at the school</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: A mouse at the school&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: celebration, ganesha, school&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Shilp Dew Teacher (Sunita Ma'am)&lt;br /&gt;Date: 23, Aug, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a school called VAIS in Bangalore. One day, it was Ganesha's birthday. Everybody wanted to celebrate it in the school. Some kids made Ganesha's idol out of clay. Some kids brought sweets. After that, the party was about to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, a girl named Radhika screamed, "Friends! We can't start the puja yet!". Everybody looked at her. "Why?" they asked. "We need a mouse for Ganesha to ride on" she said. Everybody started looking for a mouse. Some looked under chairs and some looked in the lunch hall. Then they gave up because they got tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's go look in the computer room", said Radhika. "Why?" asked a boy named Rohan. "You will see why" replied Radhika. The children went to the computer room. Radhika asked the computer teacher for a Computer Mouse. The teacher said "Yes". The girl plucked a mouse from one of the computers. Then the children said "Thank you" and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Radhika said "we need a magic potion". Then the children went to the Arts room. "Ma'am" they told the Arts teacher, "we need a magic potion". The teacher slowly put some rainbow paint in a bottle. Then she put some syrup liquid in it. Then she got a spoon and mixed it and gave it to Radhika. She poured it on the mouse. It turned into a Soft toy mouse! Then they started the puja. The principal called Radhika on to the stage and gave her a medal for helping with the puja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem: There were no mice for the Ganesha puja.&lt;br /&gt;Solution: They used the Computer Mouse.&lt;br /&gt;Moral: We should not give up. We should think differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6029117759274238283?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6029117759274238283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6029117759274238283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6029117759274238283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6029117759274238283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/mouse-at-school.html' title='A mouse at the school'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-5511375460508927028</id><published>2009-07-20T10:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T11:09:12.449-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinosaur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='butterfly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lion'/><title type='text'>How the dinosaur made friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: How the dinosaur made friends&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: dinosaur, butterfly, sad&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Once upon a time, there was a dinosaur living in France. His name was Rexie. He had no friends, so he felt sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Rexie went to a butterfly and asked her if she could be his friend. The butterfly said, "sorry, I can not be your friend. Look how tall you are and how short I am! I can fly and you can not." The dinosaur felt sad. He went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Rexie went to a Fox and asked him if he could be his friend. The Fox said, "sorry, I can not be your friend. Look how small I am and how tall you are! If you stamp on me, I will turn into &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chutney&lt;/span&gt;." The dinosaur felt sad. He went back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Rexie went to a Lizard. He asked the lizard if she could be his friend. The Lizard said, "sorry, I can not be your friend. Look how big you are and how tiny I am! I can crawl very fast but you can not!" The dinosaur felt sad. He went back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day, a Lion came to the forest. The Lion chased all the animals that made Rexie sad. The butterfly flew to the dinosaur. She said, "a Lion is chasing all the animals." The dinosaur went with the butterfly. He met the Lion and asked him, "why are you chasing all the animals?" The Lion said, "I can do whatever I want!" The dinosaur kicked the Lion. The Lion ran away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the animals saw that and went to the Dinosaur. They said, "you are a true friend!". The dinosaur felt happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem: The dinosaur was sad and did not have friends.&lt;br /&gt;Solution: He was nice and got friends.&lt;br /&gt;Moral: It doesn't matter how small or big you are. You should always make friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-5511375460508927028?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5511375460508927028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=5511375460508927028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5511375460508927028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/5511375460508927028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/how-dinosaur-made-friends.html' title='How the dinosaur made friends'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-854201980784391665</id><published>2009-07-14T11:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T11:22:49.557-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cactus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy'/><title type='text'>The boy and the cactus</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: The boy and the cactus&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: cactus, boy, girl&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Pratya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Once upon a time, there was a boy named Nihal and a girl named Natanya. They lived in Hong Kong. One day, they went to the beach. They saw many cacti (NOT cactuses) there. The boy teased the girl by singing "you can't touch a cactus!". The girl felt sad. Then she thought of a greattt idea! She told the boy, "if you tease me, then you show me how to touch the cactus!". The boy went with the girl to a cactus. She told him to touch the cactus. The boy was scared but he still touched the cactus. He started screaming in pain because the cactus was very pokey. He said "I will never, ever tease anyone again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/SlyikJEMLdI/AAAAAAAAABM/JOCJswQoZ94/s1600-h/4005-girl-and-cactus_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/SlyikJEMLdI/AAAAAAAAABM/JOCJswQoZ94/s320/4005-girl-and-cactus_0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358336398456532434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;Moral: Do not tease anyone.&lt;br /&gt;Problem: The girl was sad.&lt;br /&gt;Solution: The girl taught the boy a lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-854201980784391665?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/854201980784391665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=854201980784391665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/854201980784391665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/854201980784391665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/boy-and-cactus.html' title='The boy and the cactus'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/SlyikJEMLdI/AAAAAAAAABM/JOCJswQoZ94/s72-c/4005-girl-and-cactus_0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1477525609013924856</id><published>2009-07-14T11:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T11:08:55.389-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What am I good at?</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: What am I good at?&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: none. This is for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;I think that I am good at writing short stories. When I was five years old, my daddy gave me three words. He asked me to write a story with those words and I did. All my stories are on the Internet at www.pratya.com. In my stories, I make sure that there is a setting, a problem, a solution, a protagonist, and a plot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1477525609013924856?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1477525609013924856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1477525609013924856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1477525609013924856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1477525609013924856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-am-i-good-at.html' title='What am I good at?'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7546878428626565021</id><published>2009-04-26T02:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T02:56:00.002-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race'/><title type='text'>A race at the farm</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: A race at the farm&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Farm, Horse, Girl&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Mom&lt;br /&gt;Date: 25, Apr, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a house. In the house there was a girl named Bella. She was from Ireland. One day she went to school. Her teacher told everybody that tomorrow there will be a field trip. Everybody had to a go to the farm. They would be riding different animals her and her friends Alley, Samantha, and Minnie. They always played horsey's. Minnie would be the pink horse. Alley would be the white horse. Bella would be the brown horse and Samantha would be the black horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally it was home time. Bella went on bus number four. Then bus number 4 left. Then she went home. Her teacher had put a note in her bag for the field trip. She wold her mom that she had to go to a farm. Her mom said "Okay".  Bella went upstairs. She started playing on her bed. It was night time. Bella was sleeping. She hoped she got to ride a horse the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally it was morning. Bella brushed her teeth and went downstairs. Then she ate breakfast and went to school. At school she went on the bus with her teacher and her friends. Finally, they were at the farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody went out of the bus. They were very excited. Their teacher told them which animals they had to ride on. Bella had to ride a horse, her favorite animal! She was soooo happy. Suddenly her teacher called her "Bella". Bella went to her teacher. Her teacher said that she had to go on her horse. So she went. Her teacher helped her get on the horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was a race. Bella had to win. Suddenly the whistle blew. Everybody started to ride their animal. Minnie and Bella were in the lead. Bella thought she would lose. Suddenly Alley fell off her pig. Now Bella was in the lead. Bella went off her horse. She helped Alley get on her pig. Now Minnie was in the lead. Bella quickly caught up with her. They both went to the end. First Bella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bella was the winner! Bella was so so happy. Everybody said "Bella is the champion". Bella got a Golden cup and Medal. Everybody else got a Golden medal. Then they got in the bus and went back to school. Then it was home time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Problem: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Alley fell down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Solution: &lt;/span&gt;Bella helped Alley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Moral: &lt;/span&gt;Help others and you will always win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7546878428626565021?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7546878428626565021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7546878428626565021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7546878428626565021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7546878428626565021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/04/race-at-farm.html' title='A race at the farm'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-836282802506003090</id><published>2009-03-28T07:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T07:31:55.549-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swim'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dosa'/><title type='text'>Rohan's Dosa</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: Rohan's Dosa&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Swim, Rohan, Dosa&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Mom and Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 28, March, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Rohan. He was sleeping in the night. Finally, it was morning. Rohan woke up. He brushed his teeth and went down for breakfast. He had Dosa for breakfast. After he was done with his dosa, he went upstairs. He was still chewing some dosa. He kept on chewing and chewing. He had a swim class. So he put on his swim shorts. He was still chewing the dosa. Then he went downstairs. He told his dad - "I'm ready!". "Ok" said his dad. So they both went outside and into the car. Then they went to the class. Over there, Rohan got into the water. He was STILL chewing the dosa. Then the swim teacher came. He said, "Come on kids, let's start our lessons". Rohan was still chewing his dosa. Suddenly he vomited. So, everybody went out of the pool. Then his dad came and took him out. His dad took him in the car and they went home. Over there, his sister was waiting. Then his dad put him to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Problem&lt;/span&gt;: He vomited&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Solution&lt;/span&gt;: Dad took him out of the pool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Moral&lt;/span&gt;: Don't keep something in your mouth when swimming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-836282802506003090?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/836282802506003090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=836282802506003090' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/836282802506003090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/836282802506003090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/03/rohans-dosa.html' title='Rohan&apos;s Dosa'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6482919660691586951</id><published>2009-02-22T05:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T05:40:35.299-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><title type='text'>Waiting for Valentine</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: Waiting for Valentine&lt;br /&gt;By:  Pratya&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Valentine, Hearts, Swing&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 20, Feb, 09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a girl named Clarie. She lived in London, England. She was scared of the dark. Next day was Valentine's day. She was sleeping in the dark. Finally it was morning. She ran to the swing. Over there she thought about valentine's day. Then her mom called her "CLARIEEEE". Clarie did not listen. Then her mother came up. She saw Clarie sitting on the swing. She asked, "what happened?". Clarie did not say anything. Her mother patted her very nicely. Then Clarie told her mother all about her fear of the dark. They went downstairs so they could have breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the doorbell rang. It was her friend Emily. Emily said, "Clair, what happened?". Clarie did not say anything. Then Emily said, "I have a surprise for you". They went to Emily's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily's mother said, "Why did you bring your friend? We have to take a bath!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But mom! I wanted to show her my pet", Emily said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do it quickly honey", mom said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay" said Emily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/SaErYGQOVwI/AAAAAAAAABE/KiHj6tl0vqQ/s1600-h/IMG00203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/SaErYGQOVwI/AAAAAAAAABE/KiHj6tl0vqQ/s320/IMG00203.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305569529014671106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Emily showed her pet to Clarie. It was a hamster. "I have to go home" said Clarie. She was feeling good. She started walking home. "Mother, I am here" said Clarie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok sweetie. Go to bed" said her mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay. Shhhhhhh" Clarie went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly it was morning. Claries's mother said "Happy Valentine's Day!" Clarie said "Happy Heart day". "What's heart day" mom said. "I'm not telling you, Ha Ha!" said Clarie. "Ok, you go outside. I will take rest" her mom said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clarie said, "Now I have to go home".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6482919660691586951?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6482919660691586951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6482919660691586951' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6482919660691586951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6482919660691586951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/waiting-for-valentine.html' title='Waiting for Valentine'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vHHCu3j3XGo/SaErYGQOVwI/AAAAAAAAABE/KiHj6tl0vqQ/s72-c/IMG00203.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1245909903408942445</id><published>2009-02-12T09:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T09:56:09.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a pet</title><content type='html'>Title: I want a pet&lt;br /&gt;By: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pratya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Flag, India, School&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sudha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Aunty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: 12, Feb, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was going to school. She always wanted a pet. But her parents did not let her. Suddenly, she saw a flag waving at her. She thought it was her friend named Lily. But it was not. Then saw some fur. She thought it was a tiger or a lion. But it was not. May be it was a dog. She kept walking. Then she saw it. It was a cute little kitten. It was very very hungry. So she gave it some food. She wanted to keep it. But she had to go to school. So she went on. On the way, she met Lila. She told Lila about the kitten. Soon they were there. At school, they went on a field trip to India. Over there, they met a lot of cats. Suddenly, the girl found the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;kittern's&lt;/span&gt; mother. She ran to it and gave it to her teacher. She said, "It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;somebody's&lt;/span&gt; mother". So the teacher let her take it. Then they went back. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hometime&lt;/span&gt;. So she took the cat home. On the way, they met the kitten. So she, the kitten, and the cat went home. Her mother let her have them because she did something good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;Problem: The kitten was lost.&lt;br /&gt;Solution: They found her mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1245909903408942445?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1245909903408942445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1245909903408942445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1245909903408942445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1245909903408942445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-want-pet.html' title='I want a pet'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1076773531129224209</id><published>2009-02-12T09:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T09:48:48.636-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hat'/><title type='text'>The Hat Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: The Hat Cat&lt;br /&gt;By: Rohan&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Cat, Hat, Rat&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Mom&lt;br /&gt;Date: 12, Feb, 2009&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cat was running.  It had a hat. A big rat came to eat the hat. But the cat ran away into its house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1076773531129224209?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1076773531129224209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1076773531129224209' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1076773531129224209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1076773531129224209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/hat-cat.html' title='The Hat Cat'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6861755447526879103</id><published>2009-02-01T01:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T01:20:44.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><title type='text'>Monkey - Rohan's first story</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: Monkey&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Tiger, Monkey, Forest&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 1, Feb, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Author: Rohan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, a tiger chased a monkey. But the monkey ran back home in to the forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6861755447526879103?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6861755447526879103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6861755447526879103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6861755447526879103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6861755447526879103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/02/monkey-rohans-first-story.html' title='Monkey - Rohan&apos;s first story'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-2791022084244355809</id><published>2009-01-17T05:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T06:01:53.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The hungry lion</title><content type='html'>Title: The hungry lion&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Lion, Giraffe, Forest&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Mom&lt;br /&gt;Date: 17, Jan, 09&lt;br /&gt;Onceupon a time, there lived a lion. One day it was very hungry. All of the other lions were eating fish. One of the lions asked, "why don't you eat fish?". The lion did not like fish. "How about I search the forest" said the lion. So he went to the forest. Over there he met a rat. The rat said "you can eat a deer". But he said "deers are my girlfriends". Then he went on. He met a fox. Fox said "you can eat people". "But they will kill me". So he went. He met a girl lion. He was so happy. The girl lion said, "how about we hunt?" The lion said "yes". They saw a bad giraffe. They ate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-2791022084244355809?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2791022084244355809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=2791022084244355809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2791022084244355809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/2791022084244355809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/hungry-lion.html' title='The hungry lion'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-6986225081271007854</id><published>2009-01-06T04:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T04:13:07.180-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contribute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children&apos;s stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><title type='text'>Inviting other kids to start writing stories here!</title><content type='html'>This is from Pratya's Parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found this so much fun that we shared it with some family friends and they encouraged their kids to also write stories on this forum. This is how it works:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Leave a comment to this post if a kid you know is interested in writing here and provide their email address.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. We will enable them as a Contributor to the blog. Everytime someone gives 3 words, all the contributors will be sent an email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The contributing kid can post a story, suggest more words, and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple and fun, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pratya's parents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-6986225081271007854?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6986225081271007854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=6986225081271007854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6986225081271007854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/6986225081271007854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/inviting-other-kids-to-start-writing.html' title='Inviting other kids to start writing stories here!'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4519224280844318238</id><published>2009-01-04T08:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T08:15:58.256-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Antarctica'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lion'/><title type='text'>The smart boy from Hungary</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: The smart boy from Hungary&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Lion, Antarctica, Kid&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: 4, Jan, '08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a small kid who was from Hungary. There was also a lion from Antarctica. One day the boy went to Madagascar. And the lion also went there. One day the little boy went to the forest. He saw something moving in the bushes. It was a   LION!!!  The little boy was not scared. He knew a trick that his dad taught him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said to the lion “do you want to be friends?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lion said “yes”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy said “lets play catch. I go first.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he threw the ball and the lion caught it. The second time, it fell in the river. The lion and the kid looked in the river. The kid said, “Ohh! There is another lion”. So the lion jumped in and never came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4519224280844318238?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4519224280844318238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4519224280844318238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4519224280844318238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4519224280844318238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2009/01/smart-boy-from-hungary.html' title='The smart boy from Hungary'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4852982480579704818</id><published>2008-07-01T20:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T04:21:40.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;[Author: Uma, Pratya's friend]&lt;br /&gt;Title:&lt;br /&gt;Three words: watermelon, summer, delicious&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Uma&lt;br /&gt;Date: July 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a girl named fussy who didn't want to try anything new to eat. She never ate any fruit except for oranges.&lt;br /&gt;one hot summer day her mother asked her to try watermelon.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when Fussy tried it she said mmmmmmm I love this.&lt;br /&gt;And from that day on she ate delicious watermelon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. Better, give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4852982480579704818?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4852982480579704818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4852982480579704818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4852982480579704818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4852982480579704818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/07/title-ah-sweet-three-words-watermelon.html' title=''/><author><name>uma</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7231244746355950466</id><published>2008-06-18T21:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T21:29:11.285-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mommy'/><title type='text'>The Lost Mommy</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Title: The Lost Mommy&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Mommy, Daddy, Love&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Ankur&lt;br /&gt;Date: 18, June, 07&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lovable &lt;/span&gt;family. But one day the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;daddy &lt;/span&gt;lost his wife. He started praying. Then he saw many wives but not his own. Then he saw his own. He said "I've been looking for you!" The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mommy &lt;/span&gt;would promise to never be lost again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;THE END&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;it style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Did you like the story? Please leave a comment below for me. You can also give me three new words!&lt;/it&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7231244746355950466?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7231244746355950466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7231244746355950466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7231244746355950466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7231244746355950466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/lost-mommy.html' title='The Lost Mommy'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4413860916498023284</id><published>2008-06-16T19:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T19:42:07.984-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mommy'/><title type='text'>Who is scared?</title><content type='html'>Title: Who is scared&lt;br /&gt;Three words: Rohan, Mommy, Daddy&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Mommy&lt;br /&gt;Date: 16, June, 08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there was a little boy named &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rohan&lt;/span&gt;. He was walking in the forest. Then he heard a sound "&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"&gt;janshiki boom boom&lt;/span&gt;".  Rohan asked "could you be my friend?" "I am your &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mommy&lt;/span&gt;," it said. Then someone was touching her shoulders. It was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;daddy&lt;/span&gt;. Then someone was coming behind them. Everybody was scared. It was just Pratya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Pratya and Rohan were going on an Angel boat. Mommy and daddy went in a canoe. They saw a Fairy boat. They went in the Fairy boat. Mommy and daddy said "be careful". So they went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4413860916498023284?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4413860916498023284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4413860916498023284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4413860916498023284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4413860916498023284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/who-is-scared.html' title='Who is scared?'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-8379965200771250879</id><published>2008-06-13T18:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T18:55:42.015-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sudha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainbow'/><title type='text'>The Magic Rainbow</title><content type='html'>Three words: rainbow, girl, forest&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Sudha Atha&lt;br /&gt;Date: 6/13/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She was coming back from her school. Then she went into a forest. It was raining. She started praying.Then she saw God. God made it bright. There was a rainbow. The rainbow looked like a bridge. The girl followed and walked on the rainbow. It was colorful. It could talk. It walked with the little girl. The rainbow led the way. They both were friends.&lt;br /&gt;The purple color said "I love you". Then everybody started saying it. But except for one - the indigo did not say it. But the little girl still liked it even though it was shy. The little girl called indigo "shylie". Then indigo said "I love you". They were all friends forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-8379965200771250879?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8379965200771250879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=8379965200771250879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8379965200771250879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8379965200771250879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/magic-rainbow.html' title='The Magic Rainbow'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-4100387648149904565</id><published>2008-06-11T21:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T21:49:57.148-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='god'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nugget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pinni'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chicken'/><title type='text'>The snail taught the little girl to be good</title><content type='html'>Three words: Pratya, chicken, nugget&lt;br /&gt;Word-giver: Pinni&lt;br /&gt;Date: June 11th, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a girl named Pratya (but she is really not &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;). She was eating some chicken. Then she saw a nugget on the ground. She picked it up and she said "Oh, this nugget is dirty!". Then she threw it back on the ground. There was a little, beautiful snail on the ground. She spied the nugget. She said "This nugget is dirty", but she was also on the ground. So she ate it. Then God came. He gave her magical wings. When somebody tried to hurt her, she didn't mind. God told them not to hurt her because she had so much powers. Pratya saw the little snail doing this. So she became good. The little girl, the snail, and of course God, became friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-4100387648149904565?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4100387648149904565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=4100387648149904565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4100387648149904565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/4100387648149904565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/three-words-pratya-chicken-nugget-word.html' title='The snail taught the little girl to be good'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-8408889013598068289</id><published>2008-06-10T06:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:49:42.036-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big thatha'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monkey'/><title type='text'>The Monkey who Taught the Tiger to be Good</title><content type='html'>Words: tiger, monkey, forest&lt;br /&gt;Word Giver: Big Thatha&lt;br /&gt;Date: June 9th 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               There were a monkey and a tiger who were bad to each other every day. One day, they were sleeping. The tiger sneaked into the monkey’s house. Then, he took off the monkey’s cover. Then, the monkey sneaked into the tiger’s house. He painted a tiger on the mirror. When the tiger came to see in his mirror if his hair was growly, he was so surprised! He said, “WOW!” because he wished he had a tiger on his mirror. He went outside to see the monkey. He asked the monkey if he had painted the tiger on his mirror. The monkey said, “YES!”. They both became friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               They went into the forest. They heard a noise. It went “whooooo”. A wolf was making the noise. The wolf chased them. Then when the monkey fell, he transformed himself into Hanuman. He gave the tiger powers. The wolf was scared because the tiger was chasing him. When it got dark, the tiger and the monkey went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-8408889013598068289?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8408889013598068289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=8408889013598068289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8408889013598068289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8408889013598068289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/monkey-who-taught-tiger-to-be-good.html' title='The Monkey who Taught the Tiger to be Good'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1166790492387178068</id><published>2008-06-10T06:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:47:52.481-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='star'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big daddy'/><title type='text'>The Little Star That Could Talk</title><content type='html'>Words: star, study, sing&lt;br /&gt;Word Giver: Big Daddy&lt;br /&gt;Date: June 5th 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           Once upon a time, there was a little boy studying in school. He was singing while he was studying. He sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”. Then there was a dot on the ceiling. It was shining. He told his teacher he wanted to go out. His teacher said “Yes”. So he went. Everyone followed him, even the teacher. They saw what it was. It was a STAR! The star asked them if she could write on the roof. They thought that the star could be their pet. They said “Yes”. So they were friends forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1166790492387178068?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1166790492387178068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1166790492387178068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1166790492387178068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1166790492387178068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-star-that-could-talk.html' title='The Little Star That Could Talk'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-1819061743037811933</id><published>2008-06-10T06:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:45:55.834-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slide'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nithin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light'/><title type='text'>The Frog and the Deer</title><content type='html'>Words: Frog, Slide, Light&lt;br /&gt;Word Giver: Nithin&lt;br /&gt;Date: June 4th 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           Once there was a frog that went in the forest – tiptoe, tiptoe. He heard a sound “swish swash swish swash”. There were people. The people were wiping a slide so everyone could play. The frog slithered on the slide. But it was dark. Then he heard another singing sound. It was a deer. The frog and the deer were playing on the slide. But when it got dark, they slept. When they slept, light came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-1819061743037811933?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1819061743037811933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=1819061743037811933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1819061743037811933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/1819061743037811933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/frog-and-deer.html' title='The Frog and the Deer'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-8889778368234674711</id><published>2008-06-10T06:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:46:25.563-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rohan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='star'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pratya'/><title type='text'>How Pratya Brought a Star Down to Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Words: pratya, rohan, star, heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Word Giver: Dad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Date: June 3rd 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           There was a sister and brother living in New Jersey. Their names were Pratya and Rohan. One day, they went walking. Rohan asked “what is that gold circle in the sky?” Pratya said “my mom told me what that is. It is a star!” Rohan said, “Oooh!” Something hurt Rohan’s heart. He wanted that star. Then his sister got a mirror. She showed her brother the star in the mirror. Rohan said, “I love that akka! Thank you for getting me the star! You are like Jai Hanuman!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-8889778368234674711?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/8889778368234674711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=8889778368234674711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8889778368234674711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/8889778368234674711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/how-pratya-brought-star-down-to-earth.html' title='How Pratya Brought a Star Down to Earth'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-30406947376532256</id><published>2008-06-10T06:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:42:55.892-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Princess and the Pony</title><content type='html'>Words: Princess, Pony&lt;br /&gt;Word Giver: Dad&lt;br /&gt;Date: May 19th 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there was a princess. She was looking for her pony. A little girl went in the forest. Then she heard a sound. The sound said “I want my princess”. The animal came out - it was a pony. The little girl was surprised. The pony was crying. The girl took the pony back to the princess. The princess was happy. The princess, the little girl, and the pony became best friends forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-30406947376532256?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/30406947376532256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=30406947376532256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/30406947376532256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/30406947376532256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/princess-and-pony-princess-pony-from.html' title='The Princess and the Pony'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187514308889541669.post-7010254072540000630</id><published>2008-06-10T06:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T06:32:10.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Pratya's 3 Word Stories Blog</title><content type='html'>Give 3 words to Pratya and she will write a story for us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simple stories. Some times unpredictable. Some times just simple. Always pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please be considerate in your choice of words. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pratya is only 5 yrs old.&lt;/span&gt; She &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;gets &lt;/span&gt;"transformers and princess" but does not get "transcendental or prescient".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thank you, Pratya's muse&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4187514308889541669-7010254072540000630?l=threewordstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/feeds/7010254072540000630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4187514308889541669&amp;postID=7010254072540000630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7010254072540000630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4187514308889541669/posts/default/7010254072540000630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://threewordstories.blogspot.com/2008/06/welcome-to-pratyas-3-word-stories-blog.html' title='Welcome to Pratya&apos;s 3 Word Stories Blog'/><author><name>pratya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18177340705025726010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
