“Take a seat, kids!” Miss King announced. As kids ran towards the campfire, Miss King turned to Quill, “I’ll leave for a while, just bring the kids watermelons and tell them a story.” “Sure.” said Quill, his hands becoming wet. Quill was good at showing kids how to climb rocks, but he was not a good storyteller.

Quill asked in a low voice, “What kind of story do you like?” A boy named Caden answered, “A ghost story!” Alice rolled her eyes and other kids also shouted, “Quill will tell a lovely story, Caden.” “A ghost story!” Caden insisted. Just then, Quill felt a pull from Emma, the quietest in the group, “I’m afraid of ghost stories.”

“What am I going to tell?” Quill thought and then said slowly, “I’m going to tell…a…a toast story.” Caden protested. “A toast story? I want a ghost story!” “You’ll see,” Quill said, “Long long ago, there was a piece of bread... named Bob.” Some kids smiled. Quill talked faster, “One day, Bob was put onto a wooden platform. Bob started crying.” “Bread can’t cry!” Caden shouted. Quill’s ears turned red.

“What happened next?” Emma asked. Quill had no idea, but he quickly looked at Caden, “Cade n is going to tell us.” Caden sat up, “Am I?” “Yes, it’s a group story.” Quill answered. Caden said in a scaring voice, “Bob was sure this was the end of his day. Then, a long, shiny thing appeared over him.”

“A knife!” Alice shouted. “Alice, it’s your turn.” Quill said. Alice added, “Then something dropped. The knife spread it all over Bob.” “Salad cream.” said Emma and pulled Quill’s T-shirt. Alice continued, “Suddenly, a giant hand lifted Bob towards a big hole. Bob screamed, ‘Help!’ ”

Caden wanted to cut in, but Alice stopped him. Quill smiled at Emma. Emma took a deep breath, and said, “Bob screamed again. The hand was surprised and dropped Bob. Bob ran away.”

“So, the bread is free.” Caden cut in.

“Not finished!” Emma shouted, “Just then, a bread truck appeared. Bob ran towards it. But something big followed him.”

“What was that?” a kid asked. Emma sat forward. Caden could feel his own breath, as if he was also there with Bob. SNAP! Emma clapped her hands. Everyone jumped up and asked, “What happened?” “A dog ate him.” Emma said, laughing.

In the rest of the night, all the kids were talking about that dog.

                                                                                                  —Adapted from the story by Sara Matson