Michael and Betty - Original Writing
Once upon a time lived a relatively destitute wood-cutter with his
wife and his two children. The boy was called Michael and the girl
Betty. After much hesitation, the father declared, “I’ve had enough
for this life of poverty and de-moralisation, our social compensation
and government benefits aren’t nearly enough to look after our
children”.
"I'll tell you what, husband," answered the woman, "early tomorrow
morning we will take the children out into the forest to where it is
the thickest. There we will light a fire for them, and give each of
them one pasty and a can of coke each, and then we will go to our work
and leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we
shall be rid of them."
“But what if they imitate the old fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel,
where they leave the trail of breadcrumbs and find their way home
again?”
“What would we stand to lose?” asked the step-mother rhetorically.
The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had
heard what their step-mother had said to their father.
Betty wept bitter tears, and said to Michael, "Now all is over with
us."
"Be quiet Betty”, said Michael, "do not distress yourself, I will soon
find a way to help us."
“Now is no time for us to fall out Michael, please don’t try to
patronise me again, we both no you are not as academic as myself”.
Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of
their beds. Here their Pasty was given to them. On the way into the
forest Michael crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and
threw a morsel on the ground. "Michael, why do you stop and look
round, said the father, "go on."
"I am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof,
and wants to say good-bye to me," answered Michael. "Fool," said the
woman, "that is not your little pigeon, that is the morning sun that
himself. It was the last lot on the bay at the end of the road that
Under a moonlit midnight at Arlington, the lovers made plans for a rendezvous. After making sure no one followed her, Isolde climbed over a wooden fence. Her infiltration of Harold’s home went unnoticed by everyone, including Tanja. She stood at the middle of the backyard and reached into her jacket. With a two-way radio on hand, she contacted Walther, her eyes focused at a second-floor window. “In position,” she informed him, “You can come down now.”
Jim got up and looked around at his mess of a living room. It was
only short and soon there was a paler glow in the eastern sky. The sun
I'm going to get my hair done later on so I better get mum to make an
'Ah, it all looks splendid, but I think I shall have to go for the
The Match - Original Writing Drums beating, hearts racing, sweat dripping. Eleven men with their
Happy Little Accidents I never intended to go to Belize. Bob Ross, the famous painter, used to say that there are no mistakes, only “happy little accidents.” Whenever he would make a stroke he did not intend, he would find a way to use that stroke to make the painting better; transforming a stray line into a tree’s trunk, or morphing a misplaced color into a bird in flight. As I would watch The Joy of Painting endlessly on TV, I thought about the skill of men like Mr. Ross at making the best of his situation, and turning his “mistakes” around to make the whole work of art turn out better.
The Life of Billy- Original Writing I intend to describe Billy’s school and explain to what extent the school has helped him achieve his full potential whilst attending the school. The author’s intentions when writing ‘A Kestrel for a Knave’ were to highlight how defective the school was at helping Billy to be a successful person in life. Billy’s school was an all boy’s school situated in Barnsley. The school was run by corporal punishment, and the head teacher believed that is how it should be.
Owen and put his hand over his mouth Owen tried to shout his Mum but
for the rest of my life. For I am a neglecter of the love that was in
and a carton of ‘Yum Yum Orange Juice’ in the other. She was wearing a
been left open and as he shut it, he looked out at the city lights.
As the kid went into the candy store, the reaction of his face was priceless. Like all kids in a candy store, his eyes livened up and his mouth drooled. It was kind of amusing to watch, but the grandparents loved every second of it. They knew that as the kid grew older, he would go his separate way and would not be as close to them. They wanted to cherish the moment, enjoy every little detail about the boy, and spend as much time with him before he would “leave the nest.”
In Mid September 1998 a telephone call to my mum and dad was change my