Voyage and Return - Understanding the 7 Story Types by Looking at a Girl and an Apple

Girl is upstairs, grounded for something or other she's done earlier. This isn't too bad because she'd rather be in her room, since the house is brimming with adults. Today is her dad's birthday, and this year he's having a house party — a lethal mistake.

Banned from the iPad, Girl is bored out of her skull and decides to venture down to the kitchen. “I hate to go downstairs right now,” she grumbles, “it's pure inferno down there.” She sighs at her doll, who stares at her blankly from the shelf. It seems as if the doll nods in understanding and raises an eyebrow.

“You don't think I can? Just watch!” proclaims Girl and heads out the door.

On her way down, she meets many obstacles, such as a capsized chair at the top of the stairs (what is it doing there anyway?), her little brother's Lego figurines annoyingly scattered all over the carpet, waiting to hurt those who dare to tread barefoot, namely her - she nearly takes a header avoiding them – and giant balloons taped to the wall, residue from her little sister's birthday party, one of which explodes in her face nearly striking her dumb.

Yammering Girl reaches the first floor. Now she faces even deadlier obstacles. The lower section of the house is jam-packed with Girl's parents' overly friendly, funny-smelling friends and relatives who for some mysterious reason, are always trying to pinch her cheeks; today is no exception. “Look at you cutie-patootie. How you've grown, where are you hiding, why don't we see you?” Yuck. Oh no, here comes some more. “Ooh, look how sweet she is. I could eat you alive.”

Creepy adults, with their cooing and cackling, seem to be multiplying by the second. Girl struggles for freedom until she finally manages to slip between their legs and zoom into the kitchen. Once there, staying unnoticed, Girl surveys the area and identifies the giant fruit bowl moved onto the big table by the fridge. The apples look delicious, only three more left. Girl crawls. Once under the table, she inconspicuously reaches for the reddest apple, but someone's hairy hand snatches it right off. Another descends and takes the second one. There's only one apple left in the bowl; it's now or never. Girl grabs the last apple, and flees. On her way back, after avoiding slobbery adults, overcoming overbearing balloons and hopping over treacherous Lego figurines, Girl enters the safety of her room. Victorious, she shuts the door behind her, putting a broom across the handle, just in case — even though it doesn't actually do anything, feels good, though.

With a sigh of relief, Girl sinks her teeth into the lush fruit. A wide, content grin spreads across her face as she inhales the wonderfully familiar aroma of her own 'please-wash-me' socks and last month's sandwiches hiding in her schoolbag. “I made it! I told you I would!” she whoops, and it looks like the doll is grinning back at her, nodding with a proud approval.