Energy is stored in chemical compounds. This energy is called chemical energy. Chemical energy is a form of potential energy. When bonds between atoms are broken, energy is released. The wood in fireplaces has chemical energy. The energy is released as heat and light when the wood burns. Most living things get their energy from food. When food molecules are broken down, the energy is released. It may then be used to do work, like playing ball or studying science. If you have ever heard, "Eat a good breakfast", thats why. You need energy to do things during the day. To do those things you need energy. You get your energy from the food you eat. That energy is stored in your body until you need it. How did you get to school today? If you walked, you used chemical energy from the food you ate. What if you rode the bus or were driven in a car? Where did that energy come from?

Does wood have potential energy?

Allan crouched over his desk once more, pen in hand and mind blank. He contemplated a story, an outline he had laboriously constructed some time ago. He had filled his pen and raised it, the nib descending towards the paper, before the sound came: the gentle, persistent tapping of the gnarled, primeval willow touching the window with long, insistent fingers. His eyes awoke with a passionate, determined flame, though the only light came from the glutted moon. Allan filled page after page, the words escaping from his mind onto the paper. Where before they had marched in regiments, practiced in ranks and followed their leaders' commands, the words now escaped in their true forms, unhindered by any stricture. He continued long into the night, until the eldritch orb had sunk into the waiting hands of the willow, raised perpetually skyward. Arthur looked up from the results of a night's frenzied labors and looked Allan in the eye. "What is this?" he queried, indicating the pages he held in his left hand. "I decided that since I wasn't having much success with more traditional stories, I might see what sort of work I produced if I let my imagination go freely," Allan replied, somewhat less self-assured than he had been the previous night. "What in G-d's name could have possessed you to do such a thing," cried Arthur, nearly raising his voice. "After all I said the day before, why have you abandoned centuries of literary progress for some self-indulgent fantasy?" He shook the papers at Allan, raising them like a belt above the head of a disobedient son. "This is nothing but a glorified Grimm's tale, a miscarried child of Stoker, a creation less fit to be published than to be told around an open fire at the hovel of some peasant!" He spoke the last word with such heavy intonation that Allan shrank back before the physical wave of sound emanating from Arthur's throat. "Do you hate the modern system of literature? Do you personally despise the works the Enlightenment or the progress made since Shakespeare?" For a moment, Allan could hardly do more than shake his head. "No, of course not I " "Then why," Arthur barreled on, "do you disregard them all and return to this superstitious babble, this morbid, paganistic drivel?

When Allan fills pages without stricture, how does Arthur react?

I am very hungry. I look for my mother. When is dinner? I ask. Dinner is at six, my mother says. What can we eat? I ask. We can pick food from our garden, she says. I help her pick corn, beans, and peas. The corn is yellow and white. The beans are small and brown. The peas are green and round. I put the beans in a basket. I put the peas in a bowl. Mother brings the corn. We go inside. I have dirty hands. I wash my hands with soap and water. The water is warm. My hands are now clean. Mother lets me stir the beans. I fill a pot with water. Mother puts the corn into the pot. She puts the pot on the stove. The water boils. Mary is my sister. Mary puts four plates on the table. Each plate is blue. We each eat two pieces of meat. I eat more corn than Mary. Mary eats more beans than our mother. What did you learn today? Mary asks. I can spell ten new words, I say. Mary can only spell two words.
Why do I wash my hands?