I like playing tig with all my friends. I usually play it at lunch and break with my friend. Tig uses lots of energy so I need to be strong and healthy at all times. I like being chased more than being the tigger. I think this is a really good fun game and that every- one should love playing it. I do like other games but I like tig the most. I will never stop playing tig and I will always enjoy it. My friends that I play with are so cool to play with. I am proud to be with them.
My Grandma is fantastic. She is the most remarkable woman you have ever seen or heard. She is very popular with everyone because she tells these fantas- tic stories all about her life.
I go round to her house every Tuesday and Friday and hear them.
‘How long have you had your house for?’ I asked. ‘Aah,’ she said, ‘there’s a story behind that.’ ‘When I was eighteen I was looking for a house to stay in. As I was driving along I got caught in a storm, but this wasn’t just any storm, it was a hurricane I was in the middle of. I was going round and round and all sorts of things came flying past. Tables, cats, dogs , children. Even a zoo! Then I spotted a poor old lady with a stick come flying past so I opened the door and grabbed her.
Then the hurricane slowed down and I was safe. So was the strange old lady.
‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘Although you got rather wet.’ because she was standing in a stream. ‘To thank you I will make this stream run with gold so you can have three wishes.’ ‘What are you?’ I asked, ‘A witch?’ ‘A witch!’ she grinned and with a puff of smoke she disappeared, leaving the stream gold. ‘I wish,’ I said, ‘That I find a house and get a family’ A house appeared in front of me and inside was a kind, nice man. Your Grandad. ‘But Grandma, what about your third wish?’ I asked. ‘I still have it,’ said my Grandma, ‘Look outside at the stream.’ I looked and there were streaks of gold going through it. ‘You can use it .’ she said to me, ‘It is yours.’ So I ran outside to the stream and whispered, ‘I wish Grandma will live forever.’
When I went inside Grandma said, ‘What did you wish for?’ I said, ‘You will find out!’
Charlie the Chihuahua
Charlie waited nervously as the doggy brit awards were being handed out; it was his first time at the big awards. Charlie knew that he had to be on his best behaviour because millions of people all over the world would be watching him. The award for the most successful dog was about to be handed out to one of the dogs in the audience and Charlie’s owner Maisy had put his name in for the award, but would it be Charlie or his arch enemy, Percy the pug from Poland.
Well One Direction was announcing the award and they said, “And the winner is, Charlie the Chihuahua from Chelsea!”Charlie had won, he walked up the steps to collect his award, Charlie said, “ I would like to thank my owner Maisy for everything you’ve done for me. I would also like to thank the film crew that filmed me in episode 1376 of Corrie and last but certainly not least I would like to thank you all out there who have voted for me to be able to collect this award tonight! Thanks again!”
On the red carpet One Direction came over to Charlie and said the most amazing thing known to man, “Charlie? We were wondering if you want to be the 6th member of our band?” Charlie jumped up in his chair and screamed, “Yes, yes, yes, ohhh yes I would!”
Charlie was so happy! But then to top this off they said to him, “Ok, but there’s a catch. We need a drummer as our old drummer has dropped out because of some offer to go on tour with Lady Gaga or something, anyway would you you like to take the part?” Charlie was about to explode, an offer to go on tour with One Direction and be their drummer! Charlie did have a few questions on that, he didn’t know how to play the drums, he didn’t have long hair so he could do the whole head banging thing but hey who cares? He is the new member of One Direction!!
Percy Pug from Poland and Poppy Poodle from Paris both loved One Direction but hated Charlie the Chihuahua, so them asking Charlie to be the new member of their band made them both so angry. They needed to find a way to get rid of him for good, they thought for hours and hours trying to come up with an evil plan to get rid of him but it was no good. At this point Charlie was already extremely good at the drums and they were ready for the tour to begin, but what they didn’t know was that Percy and Poppy would be tagging along, obviously not in the tour but in the audience. They thought that when Charlie was head banging to Midnight Memories they could shoot a dart at him to send him to sleep then they would kidnap him. But what happened and did their plan go wrong?
Caley Malcolm age 11 P7
“Clearly, we’re in the middle of farmland. Miles and miles of it.”
“Just go a bit further…I think I can see some houses….”
“We’re totally lost.”
“STOP STRESSING ME I’M DOING MY BEST!”
“Just phone him and say we’ll be a wee bit late.”
“Pull over then so I can ask him for directions.”
“ We can’t get directions BECAUSE WE’RE TOTALLY LOST!”
And so the light-hearted banter went. Twenty-five minutes later, we parked up. Still suffering slight emotional bruising from the unnecessary marital spat, we spotted him. A cheeky little guy – all in your face and what you looking at But, pale and interesting at the same time. There was something intriguing about him; a certain elegance.
Roddy came to the door to greet us. “Sorry we’re late,” I said. “Took a wrong turning.” Rob – wisely, I thought – said nothing.
We spent the next twenty minutes examining Brian in detail. It was a regimented onslaught. Poor Brian. He was scrutinised, evaluated and objectified. He was poked, prodded and probed. At the end of the examination, it was clear: Brian was perfect. Inside and out. What a guy. He was completely transparent; he had nothing to hide. It was becoming clearer by the second that we were hopelessly smitten with Brian. I knew it. Rob knew it. Roddy pretended not to know it. And Brian, with his twirly front seat and his spotless ulphostery – he knew it too. He was irresistible. A little mature in years, perhaps, but still a very attractive proposition.
With some cock and bull story about further research and financial planning, we left Roddy and Brian behind us that rainy March afternoon. There was a definite air of sadness, just hanging there.
We started the drive home, deep in thought. I spoke first.
“So what did you think?”
“What do you think?”
“I asked first….”
“Well……he’s…….interesting. Yes, I’m interested.”
“Interesting? Brian? He’s PERFECT! Compact. Smart.”
“We’ll look at the figures….Brian ….I like him.”
“Did you notice, he’s got a twirly seat.”
“He fits the bill. No doubt about that.”
“He’ll not be there next week. I’m sure of it. He’s Highly Desirable.”
“Steady on. But he is damn nigh perfect…..”
“What are you saying?”
“What are you saying?”
“I say: You, Me, Brian and the Open Road.”
We fell into silence as we hit the Broxden Roundabout. At a time like this, you go home. You have a cup of tea.
You know you’re about to do something outrageous.
Long ago, I heard it told, in the Shetlands there was a small house in the quiet countryside. Inside the house lived two wee lads, John and Robert.
One cold night, the boys were sent out to a campfire folk event where the members of the public discussed what had been happening and one topic stood out as a problem. The Wulver.
The reason for the problem was that every time a family went out, the Wulver would be sat there on a stone. “Seeing a Wulver is a sign of death!” called out Hamish, the owner of the forest known as ‘Wulver’s Woods’. Hamish caught sight of the two lads in his good eye and had a cunning plan.
“Robert and John, are you listening? I have a wee task to keep you busy.” Hamish announced with a rather cunning glint in his eye. The boys listened eagerly to the task.
“I want you to go out and kill that pesky Wulver! Tomorrow you will set out to ‘Wulver’s Woods’ and kill that beast, do you hear me? Asked Hamish.
“Yes Hamish!” echoed the boys and the task was accepted.
The next day the boys set out on a journey across the golden fields, through the damp grass and over a hill to ‘Wulver’s Woods’ where the lads’ courage was to be put to the test.
The woods were dark and empty with only a few rabbits scampering about. The mud was very damp and squelched unpleasantly whenever you went near a puddle. The trees were bare of leaves, so when the rain started, the boys had no way of finding shelter. They huddled together to keep warm and it helped slightly but they were still hungry, thirsty and, most of all, scared.
They heard a distant scampering but they assumed it was just another rabbit and kept walking. Then they heard the crack of a twig. They both knew what was coming; they just couldn’t believe it. A Wulver was near and it was angry.
They both leapt with fear as a black shape ran past, like a black panther in the dark of the night. They had found him. Now all they had to do was to finish him off.
John carefully pulled out his spear and aimed it directly at the shape. He missed by a hair. He quickly retrieved his spear and handed it to Robert. Robert was the town champion spear thrower. He had won six years in a row and could aim at a target from any distance away. Robert took the spear and aimed his throw to be right through the skull of the Wulver. He paused before letting go of the cold metal. The spear spun through the air before crashing through the creature’s skull. This was it! They had done it, they had killed the beast!
Immediately after the spear had hit the Wulver the lads felt a pang of guilt. They had killed a creature that had helped the poor. They had read stories about the curse that would be unleashed upon any soul that laid a finger on a creature that had helped the world.
The blood-curdling scream of the boys broke the silence as a black shadow appeared. The shadow represented a Wulver. The shadow took two steps back before pouncing upon the two boys and killing their human souls.
Two Wulvers padded though the woods and they are said to still be there, forever fishing, never speaking.