Skipping like an elegant deer I glance upon my paddock as it wears a blank face. Meeting the end I find my mum and dad. There sad faces are like babies when they’re hungry. “Sorry to say” my mum began. My heart beats like a drum going solo. “Puppy’s gone” A tear droops down my pale face. My feelings turned like a washing machine.
I much liked the day before. :(
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ReplyDeletecute story jess
ReplyDeletecute story jess
ReplyDeleteMorning Jessie,
ReplyDeleteI read your piece of writing their a number of really cool metaphors.The metaphor I really like is the washing machine. If I had an actually puppy and it die I would feel the same way...
Mr Thurlow, Room 2, Burnham School