The Sealamander Henry SWW

The Sealamander

It’s certainly likely that you’ve had a summer visit at Havoc-on-sea. In the summer, I do expect that you’ve dug your feet into the sun-kissed tickling sand. You probably bought a fish nd chips then take them down to the seas edge: the annoying seagull nipping at your chips as you look away. I bet theirs been times when you have feasted on a dripping ice cream as it turns in to slippery sludge. Your brothers and parents might of gone rock pooling as you dip your feet in the refreshing waters.

But in the winter, it’s a whole different aspect: the moaning wind whipping up the lapping waves; the only type of ice would be knife-like icicles pointing to the floor; or a blanket of fog hugging round your frozen ankles. The rock pools would freeze over, the driving rain would flood the streets and the dark clouds would hide the sun. Lamp posts would flicker like a dying candle as the drum of the hail drums on the roofs.

Chapter 1
My name is Marcus Wood( my sister calls me Marcie but most people call me Marcus or Marc) and I work at the seaside museum in Havoc-on-sea. It is not the best job in the town but I like it. In addition to the job, me and my sister get a little cozy cubby whole where we entertain ourselves in the winter and where we sleep. I do lots of things for the manager: I polish cabinets to make them ***** and span; mop the floors; and I have to tidy up at the end of the day. Some people say that it must be horrible, but I actually think it’s fun. I also get a good salary.

Suddenly, their is a small tap on the window. I lazily get up and look out of the window. Amazed I withdraw myself from the glass. Deep midnight black eyes stare at me as a girls voice hisses “Let me in, and if your going to do it, hurry up!”
The girl looks terrified and cold, so I find myself walking up to the window and letting her in. “Who are you and what are you even doing here?”
She doesn’t answer me. Instead she looks around. Right then, her eyes lock up upon my large oak box. She dives in.

Before you fall asleep from hearing me boast about Marcus, I need to let you in on a big secret. Do not tell anyone.
Legends tell, there was a type of mander that patrolled the streets, only on stormy nights when everyone was inside. If you listen carefully, you might still hear the cry of the sealamander, as it emerges out from the salty water; slimy seaweed trickling down its wet skin. No one has seen the sealamander for around a decade, it happened so long ago that their is no records about it and everyone’s memories have been wiped clean for ages. Apparently, the sealamander is becoming under immediate threat and has started come to land more than they often should and eating different things: they might even feast little babies.​ Their favourite food is pancakes so if you don’t want to lose your child, chuck some pancakes on you doorstep.
This creature is way to elusive to capture or photograph it, so don’t bother.

“Why on earth did you just climb through my window,” I say, as the girl peeked through the gap in the box.
Her face goes as pale as a banana with no skin. “I’ve seen it!”
“Well your safe hear, from whatever you saw,” I say
“Good,” he smiles and climbs out the box. Then he holds out a filth, black hand for me to shake.

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