It is Friday and that is cause enough for celebration, but in addition to this, I got back to writing my novel The View From My Window yesterday and am on a roll. I was, no doubt, inspired by the creative writing club I run afterschool for the kids.
Speaking of which, I've posted below the beginning of one of the girls' work. She's entitled it Giraffe Child. It was inspired by a Dali painting which I showed her and have also posted for you.
See what you think of her start. Personally, I think it's original and inspired. It's hard to believe that the writer is only twelve!
Screams, shouts, gunshots, arrows. Fire, death. The giraffes. I remember it all so vividly.
My name is Kyia and I am a giraffe child. Rather, I am THE giraffe child. Everyone else is gone.
I saw it, I was there.
First they attacked; they marched up to the village with those automatic bows and arrows. (They call them guns. Imagine that, a gun! What a ridiculous name!) And those sticks of flame. They fought with the males of the village and won; next they burnt the village, captured the women and the remaining children and hauled them on the cart.Lastly, they took the giraffes and burnt them, all of them. All except two, two baby giraffes- one girl and one boy.
Twins.
Copyright Helen P.M
