Write a story which contains the sentence: ‘I was surprised when my mother said she had

seen
my friend several kilometres away.’

It was a sunny Saturday morning and I was eating breakfast when my mom came
downstairs looking perplexed.

"I just saw something strange while I was out on my walk," she said. "I saw Amanda riding
her bike on the path by the creek. That's quite far from her house, isn't it?"
I paused, my spoonful of cereal hovering in the air. Amanda was my best friend who lived
just a few blocks away from me.

"Are you sure it was Amanda?" I asked. "That path by the creek is almost 5 kilometres away."
My mom nodded. "I'm positive it was her. We waved to each other when I passed by. She
was biking very quickly like she was trying to get somewhere fast."

I was surprised when my mother said she had seen my friend several kilometres away. Why
would Amanda be biking so far from home early on a Saturday? And without telling me
about her plans?

I gave Amanda a quick call on her cellphone but there was no answer. I hopped on my own
bike and pedalled down the street toward the path by the creek. The sun beat down as I
rode, scanning the path for any sign of Amanda.

After about 10 minutes, I finally spotted her up ahead. She had stopped to take a drink from
her water bottle. When I caught up to her, she looked surprised to see me.
"Hey! What are you doing out here?" Amanda asked.

I explained that my mom had seen her, which perplexed me since she lived nowhere near
this part of town.

Amanda's face turned pale. She glanced around nervously before saying, "Look, I can't
explain right now, but you need to go home. Don't ask any questions. I'll tell you later."
Before I could respond, Amanda hopped back on her bike and pedaled away frantically. I
called after her but she didn't look back.

I biked home feeling puzzled and uneasy. Why was Amanda acting so strange? What was
she doing out here? And why did she seem scared when she saw me?
I had an unsettled feeling that Amanda was caught up in something dangerous. I hoped she
would explain when I saw her on Monday. But Amanda never showed up at school that day.
Or the next. She had vanished without a trace.

Write a story in which a helicopter plays an important part.

The thrum of helicopter blades jolted me awake. Blinking in the darkness, I checked my watch -
3 AM. Why was a helicopter circling above my family's remote cabin in the middle of the night?
I rushed outside to see my dad already standing in the yard, gazing up at the sky. A black
helicopter with no visible markings hovered above the trees. Its spotlight suddenly switched on,
blinding us as it scanned over the property.

"Go wake your sister," Dad said tersely. "Tell her we need to leave - now."
I darted back inside and shook my sister Julia awake. She was confused and groggy, but quickly
threw her clothes and shoes on when I told her we had to go. The helicopter was still prowling
loudly above us.

We rushed to the vehicle and sped down the long, winding drive. I kept checking the side mirror,
expecting to see the mysterious helicopter pursuing us. Strangely, it seemed to have vanished.
"Dad, what's happening?" I asked, trying to control the panic in my voice. "Who was in that
helicopter?"

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. After a long moment, he said, "I don't know for
certain. But we need to get somewhere safe while I figure this out."

We drove through the night, not stopping until morning. Dad kept checking the rearview mirror,
but the helicopter never reappeared. Exhausted, we checked into a small motel under a fake
name.

Julia and I eventually fell into restless sleep. When we awoke around noon, Dad was sitting
tensely on the edge of the bed, watching a news report on TV. My blood ran cold as I saw what
was on the screen - our remote family cabin, burnt to a charred husk.

Dad faced us, his expression grim. "I think you kids know I've been involved in some...secretive
work lately," he said. "It seems someone wanted to keep that work from getting out."
My head was spinning. What had Dad gotten us into? And were we really safe yet from whoever
sent that helicopter?

As if in answer, the motel room phone suddenly rang...

Write a story which includes the sentence: ‘I spent the day wandering through unfamiliar
streets
looking for the place he told me about.’

My friend Mark is always raving about this amazing used bookstore he found in the downtown
area of our city. He says it's packed floor to ceiling with books, some rare and antique, at
unbelievable prices. As an avid reader, I was eager to check out this place for myself.

Mark did his best to give me directions, describing the store's rough location near the river and
an Italian deli. But after walking around unfamiliar streets and alleys for hours, I was thoroughly
lost.

I spent the day wandering through unfamiliar streets looking for the place he told me about. I
asked a few strangers along the way, but no one had heard of Mark's fabled bookstore. I started
to wonder if he had just imagined its existence.

As evening approached, I was ready to give up my search. My feet ached as I trudged down yet
another cobblestoned lane I didn't recognize. I figured I would hop on a bus soon and get back
home.

Just then, the delicious scent of garlic and herbs wafted from an open door down the alley. My
stomach grumbled noisily, reminding me I hadn't eaten since that morning. I followed my nose
and stumbled right into a small Italian deli.

Looking around in surprise, I saw an old wooden shelf crammed with antique books standing in
the corner. And there on the weathered spines were titles Mark had mentioned finding! This was
the mythical bookstore, hidden inconspicuously in the back of the deli.

Eagerly I began browsing the collection, pulling out rare first editions and leather-bound
volumes. The store owner smiled kindly and offered me a hearty sandwich on the house while I
shopped to my heart's content.

Mark was right - this place was an absolute treasure trove! My frustrating search had paid off
with the discovery of this secret gem. Happily munching my sandwich, I stocked up on armfuls
of books before heading home.
Write a story in which a sailing boat plays an important part.

The salty breeze stung my face as I stared out at the boat rocking gently in the harbor. She
was a beautiful 40-foot sailing yacht, with gleaming teak decks and crisp white sails. My
grandfather's most prized possession - his life's passion. And now, left to me.

I had so many fond memories of learning to sail with Grandpa on this boat as a child. The
time we spotted a pod of dolphins swimming alongside us. When he let me take the helm
while he taught me navigation by the stars. Sailing with him was always an adventure.

After Grandpa died last year, the boat sat empty at the dock. I just couldn't bear to go out on
her without him. But Grandpa had wanted me to take up his seafaring legacy. So today I
finally worked up the courage for my first solo sail.

I stocked the galley and checked the rigging just like Grandpa taught me. My heart pounded
as I turned the ignition and gently motored out of the harbor. Once in open water I cut the
engine, allowing the sails to fill with wind. Immediately the boat leapt forward, skimming
atop the waves.

For the first time in months, I felt Grandpa's presence. I could almost hear his deep laughter
ringing out over the sound of the hull cutting through water. For a moment tears pricked my
eyes. But the sadness lifted, displaced by profound joy. Sailing this boat again made me feel
close to him.

As I picked up speed, breeze rippling through my hair, I sensed Grandpa cheering me on.
The boat glided effortlessly, like she was happy to be moving again too. I wished Grandpa
could see me now, finally embracing what he loved.

When I eventually returned to shore, watching the setting sun sink below the horizon, I knew
Grandpa's spirit would always be with me on the open sea. I caressed the worn boat deck
and whispered, "Thanks for the adventures, old girl. And for this new beginning."

Write a story which includes the sentence: ‘I had never been so curious about another
person before.’

I first noticed him in my Tuesday morning calculus class. He always arrived right before the
bell rang and hurried out the door as soon as class ended. He never spoke to anyone and
kept his eyes fixed on his notebook, though I'm not sure how much math he was actually
doing. He was an enigma that piqued my interest.
I didn't know his name or anything about him. He was new to our school this year, a transfer
student I guessed. I would occasionally see him in the halls or cafeteria, always walking
quickly and alone. I wondered why he seemed to intentionally isolate himself.

In a class of 300 students, it's easy to go unnoticed and fade into the background. But
something about this aloof, mysterious boy intrigued me.
I had never been so curious about another person before. I found excuses to linger by his
locker, hoping maybe he would say hello. But he remained silent as ever, barely making eye
contact with me.

I decided to gather what information I could. Through idle chatter, I discovered his name
was Alex and he had moved from a town miles away. But why? The rumors flew - juvenile
detention, witness protection program, on the run from the cops. Each theory seemed more
far-fetched than the last.
I knew there must be more to Alex's story. Maybe he was just shy and struggling to adjust to
a new home and school. Perhaps a painful event had caused him to withdraw into a
protective shell.

My heart ached imagining what vulnerabilities and wounds Alex might be hiding. I wished I
could tell him he wasn't alone. That the world is kinder than it seems sometimes. That
opening up to others could surprise and heal him.

But Alex remained a mystery to me. All I could do was offer him a smile as we passed in the
hall, hoping he'd sense my compassion. By the smallest degrees, I saw his shoulders relax
and his eyes lift to meet mine when we crossed paths. It was a start.

I hoped in time Alex would find the courage to emerge from his self-imposed isolation. Until
then, I would be here waiting patiently to know his story when he was ready to tell it.

Write a story in which a coincidence plays an important part.

It was just a normal Friday afternoon when I stopped at the grocery store on my way home
from work. As I pushed my cart down the aisles, a woman's voice suddenly caught my
attention. Her laugh was familiar, though I couldn't place it. I turned the corner to see who it
was.

There stood my childhood best friend, Liz. She looked exactly the same, though I hadn't
seen her in at least 15 years. We locked eyes and both gasped.
"Oh my gosh...Megan??" Liz said in disbelief.
We had a tearful, stunned reunion right there in the cereal aisle. As kids, Liz and I were
inseparable - more like sisters than friends. But when her family moved away in elementary
school, we sadly lost touch. I always wondered what had become of her.

As we did some hurried catching up, we realized Liz had just recently moved back to our
hometown with her own daughter. By pure coincidence, we now lived only a few blocks
away from each other - and shopped at the same grocery store every Friday without even
knowing!

We decided to have dinner together that night with our families. Sitting across from Liz,
chatting and laughing together just like old times, felt surreal. I couldn't believe coincidence
had reunited us so unexpectedly.

Over dinner, we made up for 15 years apart by filling each other in on our lives. I showed Liz
pictures of my husband and kids while she told me all about her daughter and career.
Despite the time passed, it was clear our special bond had endured.

"We can't lose touch this time," Liz said firmly, gripping my hand. "I don't want to miss
another moment."

From that unexpected grocery store run-in, Liz and I reclaimed the friendship that meant so
much to us growing up. Our daughters even became fast friends, just like we once were.
Liz and I marvel at the wild coincidence that brought us back together. Though they say
coincidence is just God's way of remaining anonymous, I can't help feeling it was destiny at
work, reuniting two souls who were always meant to be in each other's lives.

Write a story which includes the sentence: ‘It wasn’t what the woman said to me but the way
she said it which made me hesitate.’

The train car was nearly empty as I settled into my seat for the long commute home. At the
next stop, a woman boarded and sat across from me. She looked to be in her 60s, with
graying hair and kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.

We both read silently as the train headed out of the station. After some time, the woman set
her book aside and smiled at me. “Going all the way to Oakhill station?” she asked.
I nodded, lowering my own book. We made polite small talk about the weather and how fast
the hour was going by. She seemed warm and amiable.

Then the woman gestured at my shirt and said, “That's a lovely blouse. The color really
brings out your eyes.”
It wasn’t what the woman said to me but the way she said it which made me hesitate. Her
tone was overly sweet, yet with a strange flatness. And though she was smiling, her eyes
stayed cold and calculating.

Unease crept over me as we continued chatting. The woman kept complimenting my

clothing and hair in the same saccharine, yet emotionless voice. She asked where I lived
and if I walked home alone from the train at night.

My mind raced with unease. Why was she so curious about my routine and appearance? I
gave vague, noncommittal answers, trying not to reveal anything personal or make her
suspicious.

Finally, the train arrived at my stop. I quickly gathered my things, murmuring about needing
to rush home to walk my dog. The woman grasped my hand suddenly, saying it was lovely
to meet such a pretty young woman. Her grip was firm and icy.

I managed a thin smile before pulling my hand away and hurrying off the train, her hollow
gaze following me. My pulse pounded as I power-walked home, constantly glancing over my
shoulder.

The woman seemed harmless initially, but my intuition sensed she had sinister intentions
toward me specifically. Something about our encounter felt predatory, like a cat toying with
a mouse.

I resolved to trust my instincts if we ever crossed paths again. Though she hadn't explicitly
threatened me, the way the woman spoke and acted tripped all my alarm bells. I would not
let my guard down another time.

Write a story about someone who moves back to their home town after a long time away
and finds their new life there more difficult than expected.

After 15 years away, I was finally moving back to my hometown of Glenoaks. I grew up there
and have fond memories of riding bikes with friends through tree-lined neighborhoods and
spending summers at the community pool. Though I loved the excitement of big city living,
Glenoaks always felt like home in my heart.

I pictured my return being a cheerful reunion, picking up friendships where they left off years
ago. But I found life back home much more complicated than my nostalgia promised.
Many of my childhood friends had moved away themselves, chasing careers or new
adventures elsewhere. The street I grew up on now boasted sleek modern homes, my
modest house replaced by an imposing mini-mansion. Even the beloved old diner was now
a trendy brewpub.

I tried reconnecting with the few familiar faces still around town. But we no longer had
much in common beyond distant memories. They had spouses, kids, and routines here now.
The years apart created too wide a gulf to bridge.

Navigating a career change in a new town proved challenging too. I missed the professional
network I had built in the city. Starting over from scratch was more difficult than anticipated.
For a while, I wondered if returning to Glenoaks had been a terrible mistake. The town was
no longer the comforting home I treasured in memory. My nostalgia blurred the hard truth -
you can't truly go back. Time marches relentlessly forward.

But gradually, I started appreciating Glenoaks for what it is now, not what it was. I focused
on creating new bonds and routines, embracing how the town had evolved. Change is never
easy, but it helps us grow.

While parts of Glenoaks will always hold precious childhood memories, I realize I need to
build myself a new home here in the present. My history will always be rooted in this town's
soil, even as both of us change with time.