By: Hannah Q
Michigan, Grade: 6

August 2, 1932

There ain't no use for pockets nowadays. Might as well remove 'em from your shirt.

Golly, I'm a now-and-forever plain boy but now, in the midst of the stupid Depression, my life is even more plain. Maybe even colorless. It's like living in a monochrome world.

Earlier this afternoon, me, Alan, Sid, and Chester walked towards the theater. I couldn't ask Mother for even a penny so's I said that I would pay back whoever paid for my entrance. Unfortunately, the money monster might have gotten us earlier, 'cause when the folks dug their hands into their pockets, no money came out with their hands. Even if they turned the pockets inside out.

Gee, we even saw a bootlegger. We even tried to steal from this flat tire sitting on the sidewalk. Another bum, we assumed. We tried to check cautiously if there was any quarter in his pockets but sweet mother of pearl, when he saw us he snarled and tooked out a darned old gun. Darn it! We ran like a bunch of sissies. Now we're goin' to miss the one flick we've all been waiting for.

Like I said earlier, there's no use for pockets. I've grown to hate pockets.