Monday, 30 November 2015
I was on the inside of a huge triangular tent, the canvas covering it was transparent and it looked like a pyramid. I was holding the framework up so the tent wasn't sitting on the floor.
I was delicately walking as if trying to fly it like a plane or kite. It was my intention to take off and I gathered speed as I moved forwards. I was going great until two soccer players crashed into me from nowhere.
They hit the tent so hard that it buckled the frame beyond repair, I waved my fist in anger at them as they run off. I was genuinely upset at the mess they had made of my tent.
Lastly I was at the place of my birth, my Nan's house and I was standing at the front door. The door bell rang, I opened it and found a chestnut coloured horse on the front lawn. I took hold of its reins and decided I needed to put it in the back garden, which was huge.
Being aware of the side entrance to the rear garden I led the horse through the front door, along the hallway and the kitchen and headed for the back door. My Nan shouted out at me demanding an explanation. "I'm taking this into the garden". Was my simple reply as if this was normal.
Posted by Max Walsh
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