Mette Angerhofer
Mette Angerhofer has grown up in the suburbs of Utah. She's been an avid reader since kindergarten and started writing for her pleasure in sixth grade. Mette is co-editor-in-chief of her high school's literary magazine, has lettered in English, and was a Sterling Scholar finalist. On top of that, she also has a great love of dance. She's been on Bingham High School's dance company for two years and choreographed a dance for their concert both years. Because of her fondness for helping others, Mette traveled to Romania in July of 2007 and volunteered in orphanages there for two weeks. Mette has a wild imagination that can run her ragged--she's been known to convince herself that there are ghosts in her room and vicious creatures under her bed. If she ever zones you out, don't be offended; she's probably having a daydream. Mette will be moving away to college in August 2008, and is excited for what the future has to offer.
Contest Winner!
Bait
Issue #4 (June 2008)
“Hey Spencer! Look at that weird girl! She’s been sitting on that park bench across the street all night,” Claire called to her twin between mouthfuls of candy.
“Is she crying? She looks like she’s crying!” Spencer shoved Claire aside to peek out the small window beside their door.
“No, I think she’s just cold. That weird white dress of hers is lacking in material.”
“She looks like a babe. I think I’ll talk to her and maybe even invite her in.”
Spencer raised his caterpillar eyebrows a couple of times at Claire with an impish look in his eye. He withdrew his hand from the orange candy bowl and opened the door. A cool gust of wind brushed his cheek. “While you’re at it, ask if she’s seen any trick-or-treaters. There haven’t been any all night!”
“People are getting so worked up about sending their kids trick-or-treating these days. I wouldn’t be surprised if none of them came this far. I mean, here’s a dense forest right on the edge of the park. It’s a perfect place for kidnappers to wait. Or maybe your smell is just keeping the kiddies away.”
“Spencer! Claire! Dinner’s ready!” their mother called.
