She was almost half a sleep. Enjoying the sun and listening to music in her mp3. Not a single soul could be seen. You could even hear the birds flapping their wings and the buzzing of the bees.
Maxine, that was her name, but everybody in the neighborhood in her small town of Somerton, Arizona called her Lemonade. She got her nickname when she was 6. That’s when she started selling her lemonade.
Lemonade was minding her own business when all of a sudden something hard hit her on her head and shakes her up. “What the crap,” she said. Then she looked down and saw this beautiful pink rock on the ground.
She picks it up scratching her head where it hit her, and notices that it’s a very pretty pink rock. She looks around to see who threw it at her, but nobody was around. She puts it in her pocket and gets up. She takes down the lemonade stand and goes inside her house. Night falls.
The next morning Lemonade wakes up and looks outside the window she notices that it’s nice and cloudy “no sun” she thought. She gets up and all of a sudden she trips on a ball that’s right there next to her bed. She is trying not to fall and grabs on to her desk but she ends up falling and when she’s on the floor one of her books hits her on her face.