Question

Write a short story which ends all that glitters is not gold

Answer 1

I think u can write Abt Julius Caesar story

Answer 2

Give it to me! I’ll give it back!” Wombat pleaded with Wise Owl. “I just want to touch that wonderful golden coin!” Wombat wanted that one-dollar coin more than anything else in the whole wide world. If only Wise Owl would give it to him, if only, if only… “Please give it to me!” squealed Wombat. Then, Wise Owl talked softly, “No, sorry. Remember what I told you? All that glitters is not gold!” “Sure it is, JUST GIVE ME THE GOLD COIN!” Suddenly, Wombat saw the glittering moon suspended in the starry night sky.
“I want that super enormous round coin in the sky! It shines beautifully, it shines!” Wombat trilled feverishly. 
“That is the moon, not a coin, nor gold or cheese. You will not take the moon from its rightful place in the sky. It is the guardian of the dead. See their eyes - the stars - watching you. See them laughing, scowling, smiling. They are watching you Wombat. You will not take the moon from the dead.” Wise owl said calmly. “Nonsense, I will get that marvellous coin!”
Wombat walked to his bushland home, eyeing the sparkly moon. He would get that coin. As he ambled slowly past the monster trees and the moon he saw an old rusty barbecue. “Gold!” squealed Wombat. “I will build a golden rocket and fly to the golden coin in the sky!”
Wombat spent all night building his ‘golden’ rocket from the rusty barbecue and it was finished by the morning dawn light. He dragged the heavy rocket to Wise Owl and bragged: “Look at my wonderful rocket. I will fly to the coin and bring it back. All living creatures in this miserable bushland will want to know me!” Wombat declared. He started his rusty rocket by pulling a purple painted lever. The rocket went and started to climb the cloudy sky, up, up and away!
He soared past the stars and Mars’ funny aliens. Then he found the moon. He scrambled down his purple rocket steps and reached out slowly for the moon…
“OUCH!” The moon had burnt Wombat’s paw. He climbed into his rocket as fast as he could and soared back to his bush home, crying.
He ran to Wise Owl “It burnt me! I’m sorry! I won’t be like a horrible, thieving magpie that loves sparkly things anymore.” Wombat hung his head ashamedly.
“All that glitters is not gold,” said Wise Owl calmly.


HOPE IT HELPS