Tag Archives | Rory SWW

EVACUEE LETTER (RECOUNT)

Dear mam,
My train journey out of London was not as pleasant as I had hoped it was. First of all, it was wet and the rain was pounding down on the windows. Next, the train carriage was packed with other evacuees so there was barely any space in the carriage to sit down. Finally, the other children were so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think.

While gazing through the window for anything to focus on, I was amazed by what I saw. Did you know that farmers have these huge animals called cows? They get an infinant supply of food because they eat grass. These animals are massive and really chunky!

Once we got off at a small village called stone, gas masks were clutched once more and nervous children were being chosen and escorted rapidly to there new homes. I was left until last, like I expected. Maybe it’s because I look quite scruffy and dirty. But after about 5 minutes of patient waiting, a lovely, old lady appeared out of nowhere and took me to her house. She is very kind to me and she makes me only do two chores a day (which are feeding the cats and washing the dishes). I love it out here in the countryside but nothing compares to being at home with you.

I hope you are allright
love RORY

MORAMANDER CHAPTER 4

I try to run but my legs are paralyzed, reluctant to fearlessly run past my almost certain death. Instead, I step backwards towards not much safety, nearly stepping into the moat that surrounds the glistening egg, which dazzles in the light shining through the crack in the cave roof. Suddenly, I have the urge to attempt climbing out of the crack but realize that I would fall to my death. Unexpectedly, monster in front of us closes it’s enormous mandibles, hiding the blood-stained teeth of a killing machine. It was only yawning! After our discovery of a yawn, we make haste and exit the beast’s hideout.
As we trudge sleepily across the saturated sand, warm air fills the area. We ponder about how we can keep the deep ocean blue egg of the moramander secret, considering each others ideas. How long will it be until someone will find the egg? How long until the beast’s home and egg are fought for?
The area was already stirring with activity as we enter my home town: Mrs. Kitty was opening the ocean corner-shop, where I always buy biscuits. She waves then gets back to setting up her stock. The sweet kiosk owner, Mr. Nerds, was just entering his kiosk when he notices us, dragging our bodies through the streets like zombies, “Up nice and early then kids?” We grunt in reply and keep strolling drowsily towards The Stargazer’s Catch. I’m ready to sleep for a week, but Charlotte has other plans.
As I sleep for hours, Charlotte does research and searches ancient logs from my bookshelf. When suddenly the radio crackles, “Residents of windy -on-coast, I would like to remind you that it was this very day that the moramander egg, known to have the ability to bend reality to the user’s will, was fought for, causing the shipwrecked galleon in our waters to sink.” I wake at the hearing of this news.
Charlotte’s eye glints in curiosity. Here we go again, I think.

moramander chapter 3

Two days later, Charlotte and I are in the warmth and comfort of my attic, taking long slurps of hot chocolate, my favorite drink. We sit in silence. well, almost silence, as we are still slurping our hot choc. I am also dipping some posh biscuits ( that where bought two months ago and aren’t out of date yet ) into the chocolate dunking drink. I posted this on Instagram, and it immediately got fifty likes. Unexpectedly, charlotte breaks the silence, “Right, finish your drink, I’ve got something to show you!” My heart sinks.

I discover that while I’ve been sweeping floorboards, my companion has been scavenging the beach caves and searching the golden, evening sand for evidence. And when I collected this weeks cash, she collected something spectacular. . .

I lock up The Stargazer’s Catch and try to catch up with Charlotte, trying not to look full of despair. We stroll along the seafront, the wind roaring in our faces as I follow my companion into the unknown. I run, desperate to catch up with Charlotte, who is leading the way with bravery and fearlessness. She stops. We’re here.

We see a trail that looks like something slithered into a cave. I was not easily convinced but we eventually enter a dark cave full of strange noises, puddles and other extraordinary things. I can tell Charlotte will get me into even more trouble than I’m already in. . .

We turn on the torches and discover that the cave is full of brightly-colored gemstones that shimmer in the torch light; the rock pool puddles look mirror-like in the white light; and something spectacular surrounded by what might be a moat. What lies in the center dazzled my eyes in awe. Surrounded in a nest made of coral and seaweed, a deep, ocean blue egg, dazzling my eyes with awe.

I shy away from the water as Charlotte snaps pictures of herself and the glinting gems, unaware of the danger behind her. I shout her name. She responds in a glare that probably means: would you mind? I’m trying to take selfies here. Then she shrinks down into the corner. I turn around and we run towards the entrance. Suddenly, our only exit is blocked by what looks like a giant eel opening a fang-framed mouth, revealing another set of mandibles, bloody teeth guarding the entrance to the stomach. . .