In The drama lesson before half term we finished are plays. So here is the second part. The famer walked home with the battered porridge pot thinking of a way too explain how he traded the cow for the porridge pot. When he arrived home his wife was not very happy she shouted .”you traded are only cow for a porridge pot!”
Then the farmer said. “but its a magic porridge pot and it talks.” “hello said the porridge pot” Then the farmer put the pot outside the house too work on the fields and left his wife inside. But then the porridge pot said “take me inside clean me and you shall see what you shall see.” Well as you would imagine the farmers wife was surprised but she did as she was bid and took the pot inside and cleaned it until it shone like a pin.
Hi. In class I also wrote a story from the topic of Villains and Heroes so after you have read this post, go and check out Olivia’s story and post. It’s really good! Here is my story:
I stepped out for the first time. My foot sunk into the deep, crisp snow as cold as the air. I was isolated by nothingness, suffocated by the sound of being alone, the echoes of loneliness. I could see gaps into the ice, the deep, dark ocean. Midnight blue, nothing down there for miles. But I know it was all my fault, me, here, alone. If I had just stopped this wouldn’t have happened. Now I stopped, in the cold place far from home. I stopped and sobbed creating puddles as big as the ocean around me. Surrounded me, consumed me. Then and there I knew that my last guilty cry would be my last…
I hope you like it! Bye
In English, we have recently been exploring Mary Shelley’s novel ‘Frankenstein’. Since I have never read the original (or any other adaptation for that matter!), I am looking forward to learning the story and reading the play, as I love drama. In class, we wrote short descriptive stories relevant to the picture on the board, which depicted a huge expanse of iced over ocean and a ship in the distance. This was mine…
Snow was lathered on the stubborn ice. The sky, unrecognisable, adopted the same emptiness as the ground beneath. Pure, some might call it. Dangerous. I think. Height came tearing through the desolation. Poles and rigs, planks and voices. It conceals its gasps for colour. But I am white. Until brown, when the next dirty shoe steps on me. Before untouched, I now wear the tracks of mankind.