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Monday 24 th March 2014
the letter which arrived too late

My eyes filled with tears as I read the letter again, and over again.
“If only she’d gotten the letter… If only..”
“If only, what?” a beautiful tall girl gazed at me as she asked me, her blond hair sweeping against her face. Her sad, haunting eyes reminded me of someone long lost and gone, yet I could not remember…
 

Saturday 25 th May 2013


This is a story I wrote back when I was 10 years old :

Once upon a time, there lived an elf called Etipi (pronounced Et-ip-ee).
He lived in a mushroom.
He took the toy train every day to his house.
He was a magical creature, and he could make flowers fly.
He liked eating flowers, which gave him powers.
One day a Big Troll came and ate Etipi.
In the Big Troll's tummy, Etipi ate flowers.
The flowers fave Etipi powers to get out of the showers in the Big Troll's tummy.
Then Etipi threw a mushroom at the Big Troll and the Big Troll died.
All the elves celebrated and Etipi was a hero.
Bravo Etipi!!!
THE END
 

Wednesday 8 th May 2013
This is a story I submitted into the YAFF (Young Adult Fiction Festival) Festival at the American Library In Paris! Unfortunately the results aren't out yet, but who knows, maybe I'll win something! :D

Thursday 23 rd February 2012
It was a fresh spring Sunday morning, if a little chilly, and Mama woke me up at the crack of dawn to roll the pastry.
"Today is the busiest day of the market, and people will be cold and hungry. Piping hot apple pie will soothe any hunger!"
So I rolled the pastry and shaped it and poured in the filling and put on the top and baked it in the oven and made little slits on the top.
Finally, at 8 o 'clock, Mama told me to get washed and dressed. I brushed my hair into my usual side braid and washed my face and brushed my teeth and slipped on a green silk dress.
Mama was caring for baby Sid and told me to start selling.
I loved caring for the pie stall. We were quite popular in the village and almost everybody would stop and buy a pie, and if not, they would buy a slice.
I stacked the pies on the racks, and switched the signs from 'Closed' to 'Open'.
All of a sudden, there was a mad rush. I thought that they were all for the pies, but instead they were watching a scene unfold in the market square.
I left the pie stall and ran to the crowd of people.
I recongnised Farmer Jenkins, a old stout man of 50+, with a gravelly voice and wrinkly face. He was strong as a bull, and he was holding a boy my age down to the dusty floor.
"You dare pickpocket me! You filthy young man, why I oughta-"
He was stopped when his wife, who worked in the tavern, caught sight of him and pulled him off the boy.
"Leave him be, you monster, leave him be." She cried.
"That young man-" He said, pointing an accusing finger at the boy, "Comes into our home, eats our food, sleeps on our sheets- and he nicks money!" He made one last dash at the boy, who ran out of the way, through the crowd and down the dusty track that led to the woods.
Farmer Jenkins was led to the tavern to calm down by his wife, and the crowd broke up. I was supposed to go back to my stall, but instead I ran down the track that led to the wood.

Wednesday 22 nd February 2012
I entered this story into a competition. Let's see if I win!
Once upon a time, there lived a King and Queen in a beautiful kingdom, and they had a lovely daughter, who they named Lea.
It is pronounced Lee-a.
Oh, I do beg your pardon. They had a lovely daughter called Lea.
Lee-a!
Low-a?
No, Lee-a!
Loo-a!
Oh, move over and let me tell the story.
Right. We’re not having any of that ‘once upon a time’ lark. That’s how normal sappy fairytales start, see. And this is no sappy fairytale. Anything but, my friends, anything but…

I guess it started when I was born.
Everybody in the palace turned up to see me pop into the world. Unfortunately, they all thought I was coming at exactly 3. They had planned around that. At 3, royal birth. At 3:30, group portrait. At 4, first baby stroll in the palace grounds. And at five, a celebratory dinner!
I came at 3:20. That’s not too bad, you say.
I came at 3:20…the next morning.
Yes, I was a bit slow. But that wasn’t as bad as the next surprise… I was a girl.
See, the royal doctor, Professor M. Ad, thought I was a boy.
“You are slightly more round than a woman pregnant with a girl.” He said. I haven’t the faintest idea why that classed my mother as a woman pregnant with a boy, but that’s men for you.
Anyway, after I finally came into the world, my mother was fast asleep, and as for my father, he had abandoned it hours before and gone to bed. So my first hours or so in the world was parentless.
Still, the nurses wrapped me up warm and took me to see the royal doctor. He unwrapped me from my blankets and…
“A girl!” He proclaimed.
“A girl?” The nurses gasped.
“A-ga!” I probably said.
My parents were devastated. They wanted a boy to take over their kingdom when they were old and weary. A Queen… that was bad news. I mean, look at Cleopatra. And Anne Boleyn. And Marie Antoinette…
The point is, I wasn’t wanted. I was a mistake. So my parents hurriedly named me and locked me away in a tower the day I turned 13.
The castle was all right. Sometimes, during the cold winter nights, the dragon that guarded me would blow wisps of fire to keep me warm. We were a happy pair.
Until the prince came.
As I said before, this isn’t a sappy fairytale story. So the prince didn’t defeat the dragon. He tricked it.
He dressed up as a woman and said he was my mother, come to visit me. The dragon let him climb up its scaly back and into my room. When safely inside, he swept off his disguise.
“Hello, Princess Lea!” He proclaimed.
He even got my name right. This was my kind of person.
So we were married, and lived in the tower together, had numerous, lovely children, and lived… oh, all right. We lived happily ever after.
THE END

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