Beauchamp 1
Tabitha Beauchamp
Angela Woodard
24 October 2018
English 1301
My Best Friend
On a cool fall morning, the dew was fresh, and the fog was so thick you could not see ten
feet in front of you. I was sitting on the bus as it made its rounds. When the bus stopped and a
young blonde girl with a tangled ponytail climbed on looking lost. She walked with her head low
and arms by her side. She carried a “Liza Frank” backpack. She wore a teal blue stripped shirt
and blue jeans that had holes in the knee. I offered her a seat next to me. She smiled and sat
down.
