Here is a Story I Wrote When I Was Nine

My name's Erica. Erica Rava. I'm a detective. I go after spys. Anyway I'm in San Fransisico. I check my clock. It's night time. I was after a guy. Matt Sissouskii*. Of course I go after the boys. Well, I walk into the alley. Shaddow's whisp across the walls. Suddenly a garbage can get's knocked over. I leap onto the gate across the top of the alley. I see a man, really a boy. Almost my age, 9. He looks up where I am and soots* up there. I don't move. He leaves. I jump and walk to the Bay Bridge. I climb to the top and dove into the bay. It was a long fall, so I slipped on all my gear. So when I reached the water I was set. All the sharks zoomed right passed me I finally reached Las Vegas.

[* indicates places I couldn't read my own nine-year-old cursive.] 

A young Frank O'Hara, was I not?

~ToriannaLamba