This is a story I wrote about disappointment.

You know the first time I ever disappointed myself? My first grade teacher handed out to each student a flash card with a letter on it and a picture corresponding to the letter: A, apple; B, book; C, cat. You get a letter, you wait for the teacher to finish distributing the flash cards, then you go up to the chalk board in alphabetical order and write a word that starts with the letter on your card that is different from the picture. D, dog; you go up and write “D, duck.“

The teacher came to my desk and gave me the letter X. It had a picture of a xylophone with rainbow keys. I looked up at her and told her I don’t know any other words that start with X. She winked at me and told me she gave me that letter because she knew I could think of something.

I couldn’t think of something. W, white. I watched a boy write “W, whale.” I went up to the chalkboard and wrote the letter X. I wrote a second X beneath it, slowly. Then I wrote an A to the left of the second X.

A man’s body is discovered in a park in Chicago in the middle of summer. He has a fractured skull and many broken bones, but he died of hypothermia.

He was a European immigrant who stowed away in a plane’s gear compartment, froze to death, and fell when the plane opened the gear compartment to land.

These are solutions to lateral thinking puzzles. I started the word with X, but I felt sad because I disappointed my teacher.