Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 10 · column 2 of 7 · from the scan, no model involved
reriect, periect, muttered Frank, as he took shot after shot.
Soon, there was nothing to be seen of the bat but a writhing pile of cockroaches which stirred and shifted as some roaches scurried off, small bits of pink meat grasped in their mandibles, while others arrived to take their places. Only the thin, high shrieks that ripped cruelly through the air told that the victim still lived. After a while, those stopped, too, and there was silence but for the faint pattering of the cockroaches as they ran to and fro. They dispersed gradually until just a few late-comers were left to poke around among the fleshless remains of the bat. There was nothing but its dean-picked skeleton.
FYank packed his equipment slowly, anticipating success. This assignment had not, after all, been a total waste of time. He had enough good shots far a photo article...or perhaps even a cover picture! That would be worth a thousand bucks, at least. He smiled at the thought as he made his way back across the cave. The narrow ledge held no terrors for him now; he was much too excited to be bothered by a little thing like that.
He climbed nimbly upwards, in a hurry to get home. It would already be getting dark outside, he thought
There was a sudden rush of wings above his head as thousands of bats whirled upwards to seek the evening sky. The air was suddenly full of sharp, shrill cries. Startled, Frank stumbled, slipped, and the next moment plunged headlong. He struck against something hard, rolled over and over, and finally fetched up on the floor of the cave amid his scattered equipment. For a few seconds, he lay stunned, wondering whether he was hurt or not. Then he tried to move his legs, but found that they did not respond.
“I’m paralyzed,” he thought instantly, and a twinge of panic seized his stomach and twisted it into a knot. He tried to calm himself. Jim would come looking for him in a few hours; he had only to wait, and everything would be alright. He lay still, listening to the slight sounds of the cave-the distinct fluttering of wings, the cry of a bat, the rustle of a cockroach moving across the ground. Suddenly he shuddered, and the memory of the bat struggling helplessly on the floor of the cave flashed through his mind. He felt a strange sensation, as though the bat guano beneath him was shifting, heaving with the movement of some approaching force. He struggled desperately to move...but he could not.
Second Place-MExcerpt from Galaxic Journal: 7-31-2311” by Meow Maheswaran, Grade 11: For many months, aa our readers know, top archaeological scientists have been uncovering and deciphering the remnants of a diary which they believe to be the missing link between our time and that of the terrible cataclysmic Nuclear Holocaust that occurred in the latter part of the 20th century. It is the only document of its time that can give some
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