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Year 6 Writers' Blog

Take a look at some of our writing. We were rewriting the narrative from our class key text

'StormBreaker' by Anthony Horowitz


Buried Early by Daniel 

The early morning sun shone upon the desolate wasteland of rotting, smashed-up cars. As Alex glanced round the side of the fence he was shocked to see how polluted it was; diesel fumes choked the air. Then he noticed how horrible it really was: cars beyond repair were scattered around, like rag dolls, they one by one, a huge monster picked them up and flanged them into the crusher. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his body into the scrapyard.

He sprinted over to the nearest car and looked left and right. Cars were the only thing in sight. In the horizon he saw cars. Everywhere he looked he saw cars! Then in the distance he found what he had come for: Ian’s BMW! He was so excited he didn’t realise there were two men standing next to the car having a conversation about Alex! As he sprinted over one of the men spotted him but carried on talking. Finally, he touched the BMW luckily on the other side where the men were talking. Alex’s face had drained of any colour and his legs had gone limp. Tiny holes filled the whole side of the car and anyone could tell what they were. Dark, brown splotched around the driver’s seat. He heard the tweet of a bird and came back to reality and knew something was wrong. A looming shadow of a man fell over him and he heard a gruff voice “What are you doing here?” Alex froze…

He slowly plucked the courage to turn round, it was a peculiar sight; a well-built man, aged around 30 was standing a meter away holding what seemed to be a gun. A snake coiled round his neck and hissing at Alex. Alex then noticed he had missing thumb! He stuttered “I…I…was lost…so I came here to ask for help.”

“I can’t stand kids but I absolutely loathe lying kids. So I’ll give you ten seconds to run.” Alex started to run to the nearest exit. Soaked with worry, he glanced round his left shoulder and saw the gun aimed at him! BAM! He felt a jolt of pain in his right shoulder but kept on running Alex knew he’d been shot and was afraid of the possibilities.

Then came another whipping past his ghastly face “DIE!!” cackled the horrible man. A bullet dag deep into his flesh and he gasped for air, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take and that’s when it started to drizzle with rain, then smashing it down with rain weighing Alex down urging him to give up the run! He slipped and bashed his head against a wonky pile of cars. The top screeched off of the pile. A giant, crumpled jeep with a lop-sided metal door plummeted onto the pail Alex Rider with a bullet hanging onto him by thread of flesh! The car which luckily had a hole in the bottom, the weak Alex. The man, who called himself snake, was strolling over to the jeep aiming his pistol at Alex’s head [even though it was blocked by a window]. Now worrying like mad, Alex tried to open the car door without success! Then he remembered his pocket knife that he’d taken with him and hastily struggled for the of the pocket. Finally, he got it and started to hack at the window until it shattered. He leaped through the opening and sprinted to the exit still pale and limping from the pain.

As he was running/limping he noticed his uncle’s car being picked up by the crane and dumped into the crusher. His mission had failed but he was alive. He jumped onto his bike and cycled away.    


Death Note by Charis 

Eventually, Alex arrived at the junkyard of J.B. Stryker’s though searching around, he had almost given up. Pushing his fair, wavy, hair out of his eyes he saw: cars, damaged beyond repair; odd excuses of engines, scattered across the dusty ground; vile machinery squeezing the life out of cars as if they were rag dolls; and an abandoned shed tucked away out of sight in a corner. The abysmal stench of diesel hung in the air sucking the freshness out of his clothes and stinging his watery eyes. Dabbing his eyes with his sleeves, Alex budged past the broken hinges of a rusty gate and entered the scrap yard, but little did his fine figure know that he was being followed…

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a strangely familiar BMW. This was it. It couldn’t be true could it? Furtively, Alex made his way across the yard. His breath balmy and exerted, condensed against the cold, metal carcasses of the cars as he passed. Upon closer inspection, sharp; smooth; perilous bullets lay scattered across the once lustrous surface. The flush of life drained from his face to his shaking hands (that were as red as tomatoes). He became deathly pale and gasped for breath desperately whilst fingering the perfectly round bullet hole that had punctured a massive hole in his life. Suddenly a hand clamped over his mouth and dragged him behind the cars. “Listen Alex no funny business, I’ll explain how I know your name but right now we really have to get out of here for your own safety,” whispered Summer.

“I’m not taking orders from a stranger especially a girl who looks younger than me,” Alex replied.

“If you must know my name is Summer Meadows but I am actually Agent Wynter so call me that, also I am only 2 months younger than you so cut me some slack,” she insisted, “Ian was right - you are very stubborn,” Winter sighed deliberately.

Alex froze. She knew his uncle?

“GET RID OF IT NOW!” a man roared. Alex recognised him from the funeral; the man with the gun. “DON’T MESS IT UP AGAIN OR THE CRUSHER WILL HAVE RAW MEAT FOR DINNER. I WANT IT GONE!” he said more calmly.

“Y... yy. Yes, sir” stammered the terrified victim on hearing them coming. He grabbed the startled Wynter and dragged her into the back seat of his uncle’s BMW. In awkward silence he examined her features she had bouncy, curly brown hair with hazel eyes she was well-built and had a soothing smile. Then and there Alex started blushing madly. Winter turned to him and smiled then asked, “you’re redder than a rose what are you plotting, are you blushing?”

“No why would I?” he said defensively.

“Ok,” she whispered looking hurt. Soon after the voices were gone a powerful force jerked them upwards, grazing Alex’s head, they screamed.  “What do we do now? “Alex questioned worriedly.

“We jump!” she shouted over the noise of the machine.

“JUMP! ARE YOU CRAZY WE ARE  BASICALLY 5 METRES IN THE AIR.!” Screamed Alex. Winter searched the car frantically and wrote a note the note that was meant to be the end of Alex and he didn’t even know it. Winter then whipped out a smoke bomb and a parachute. On the count of three they jumped and the smoke bomb was hurled in the direction of the men.

“RUN NOW!” Winter screamed. There was a big explosion. Flames licked the crane like lizards’ tongues and swallowed scraps of metal whole. As Alex reached his bike he read the note Winter had slipped into his hand “I’m sorry. forgive me,” it said. Tearfully, he looked back to see they had captured her and were offering her a gun. She wavered briefly then grabbed the gun, squeezed her eyes shut tightly and pulled the trigger …



JB Strykers was a toxic, square of wasteland with run-down cars running out of waterloo station. Alex noticed that the scrapyard was enclosed by a high brick wall and the only thing standing in the way of him and being caught was the torn-apart gate. He rapidly tugged on the gate and as easy as that he was in . There was a deadly stench of deisle coming from all around him. As he moved himself further through the abandoned place, Alex took acknowledgment of a familiar BMW. Everything of any value had been stripped away into nothing but worthless, old, rusty cars with shattered windows and dead figures waiting to be fed to undefeated crusher and be turned into nothing. Alex steadily edged his way towards the car to hopefully find out facts on how his uncle really died

Meanwhile, a mysterious girl dressed in all black entered the scrap yard as if it was nothing.”I’m in,” said the young girl into what seemed like a wrist piece .

“well done, I am very proud of you scarlet jones,” replied an unknown voice. Scarlet jones was a vicious person with:scruffy back crazy long hair, overgrown legs and bruses along her arma and head. She instantly noticed that the roaring machines had switched off so instead of finding Alex; she needed to find where the control switch was.

While she was off doing that, Alex was investigating what had happened to Ian’s car. As he approached the deserted area, he took acknowledgement of a BMW. There was nothing wrong; there were no scratches and it looked in its original state. Well that’s what he thought. When he arrived at the other side of the car, he noticed a spray of bullets scattered across the driver’s window and door. The truth was right before his eyes. The minuscule, fatal bullets, with rapid speed fire, launched at the BMW demolishing everything. Not only create a hole in Ian’s heart; but created a hole in his as well. At that moment in time, one ferocious voice echoed in his direction.

“oh no, what am I going to do?” he cried out in terror. A snake slithered its way up Alex’s back; making his spine quiver in fear. The men were footsteps away and they were bound to find Alex if he didn’t hide. The two men were edging closer by every single step and Alex was in grave danger of his life. He threw himself into the only hiding space available…. The car itself. As the two men strolled past, he could overhear what they were saying.

“You should have done it already, do it now or your finished!” said the man with an infuriating tone.

“Yes boss,” said the other with a shrill voice.

Scarlet had now found the control pods. It was an old group of buildings clumped together on the far side of the scrap yard. She entered the one of the buildings hoping to find what she was looking for. There it was, a machine room with many buttons laid around the room. There were two men on guard, who were very strong, carrying guns. Scarlet needed to fight her way through them to find the activation button for the crusher. With one kick, she took one of the guards out. The other one fired a bullet which narrowly missed Scarlets chest. She instantly took out her gun and fired. She was safe.

On the other side of the scrap yard, Alex noticed two shadows fade into the distance. He took a sigh of relief until…. Alex was forcefully thrusted to the back of the car and three metal claws tore through scraping his head. Blood trickled down his face and onto his eye.  No one could’ve seen him or hear him no matter how loud he shouted. The pain was excruciating. He was eventually placed on top of the crusher. The rusty, undefeated beast, which consumed the souls of the torn-apart cars, was ready for its dinner. The merciful BMW dangled above the crusher and when the metal claws let go, it would all be over.


Guardian Angel by Imogen

 As Alex, with fear in his eyes, entered the scrap yard, He started to regret his decision of going there. The smell of diesel; the sight of broken, battered cars sitting waiting to be engulfed by the crusher was a ghastly sight. Just as Alex was about to leave he spotted it, his uncle’s BMW but it couldn’t be it was perfect. As he edged closer to the BMW dodging his way through the broken, battered cars, he realised the damage that had been caused to it. Shock waves rippled through his body. He was in disbelief but realised that he was in danger. Why had someone covered up his uncle’s death?

In the distance Alex could hear the echo of two men’s voices slowly approaching him. For some strange reason those voices reminded him of something. Suddenly, he remembered, the funeral voices. Without thinking Alex jumped into the car. ‘Get rid of it immediately!’ said one of the voices. ‘ok sir,’ stifled the other. But as soon as Alex had heard that there was silence deadly silence. Then the car jolted and the excruciating sound of metal being cut was surrounding him, he didn’t know what was happening. Then one sharp metal claw from the crane clutched the car with its firm grip and obliterated the outside of the car then it started to slowly the car of its wheels, Alex had no idea what was happening, he could feel himself slowly lifting. The crane had both his legs pinned down, he couldn’t move; it was like he was waiting for surgery but he was still awake. As the crane was moving he caught a glimpse of a mysterious figure he had never seen before, but as if the person was never there - he was gone. Without warning, the crane came to a stop, it started to lower the BMW. Alex could hear the anxious cries of the men below. “What’s happening?” said one.

“Fix it now!” shouted the other.

Without thinking, Alex jumped out of the car and made a run for the gate but he stopped he could hear a voice in the distance saying.

“Run Alex run don’t look back!” shouted the voice.

But as he looked back there was no one in sight except the men in the funeral. Who was that boy?

And who ever he was had saved Alex’s life.    


!! The Toxic Danger !! by Jabez 

Eventually, Alex arrived at the entrance of J.B. Strykers; his mission was simple – to find his uncle’s car and get out. Fortunately, there was a small chip in the fencing around the site. Not knowing he had been seen, Alex crept cautiously into the scrapyard.

During a break, a worker at the deprived wasteland –  Calypso an evil visionary – saw Alex and immediately and went after him. Meanwhile, Alex scouted around the garbage ridden scrapyard, when of nowhere, a tall lady shrugged Alex into the now clear BMW Alex froze…though stunned he was conscious enough to see the true horrors. His uncle wasn’t killed in a car crash. He was shot. The bullet holes may have been tiny but the left a colossal, eternal hole of pain in Alex’s life.

Alex started to gag his face was as red as the sun, why? Why kill a bank manger? He didn’t have time to process the fact that his uncle (his last relative who had looked after him all those years) was dead due to the fact the tall lady was lifting him out of the car with handcuffs connected to her silver, metal belt with a massive ‘S’ encrusted into it. All of a sudden, the lady’s eyes went ice cold like the drowning sea-  ‘’YOU!! You’re the nephew of Ian Rider, I am Calypso - not that it matters since I will kill you, MMMWWWHHHAAHAHA!’’ Calypso announced and with that she tossed him back into the once shimmering, luxurious BMW strapping the handcuffs on him as she did so. Calypso must have taken control of the crane since Alex could feel himself ascending into the sky.

Despite the pain, Alex used all is might to break out of the metallic bonds though it was useless. Just when he thought all hope was lost, a black ninja-like figure smashed through the blue car roof. An eerie shadow fell across Alex blocking out most of the rigid sun rays. Fortunately, there was just enough light to see the ninja’s hidden face it turned out that she was a girl with auburn, French-bulldog hair wearing a black cloak with a mask fastened onto her head. Gradually, the girl began to remove her disguise revealing a beautiful face with makeup and lipstick carefully applied.

‘‘My name is Zoe Nightshade and I work for MI6,’’she explained retrieving a passport from her satchel and cutting his wires with a knife, ‘‘please come with me we don’t have much time.’’

Without hesitation, they jumped out of the car as it exploded and – luckily – got out of the wretched rubbish land.


The Close Encounter by Lucas 

When Alex arrived at J.B.Strykers, he found himself standing in front of scrapyard. His instinct sent warning signals about the place being unsafe; he was overcome by negative feelings about this place. He heard the screaming of the cars as the crusher crunched them, like a shark crunching bones of its prey. The disgusting, toxic smell of diesel, flew inside his nostril.

He shook himself back to reality. Then he furtively sneaked in the back of the scrapyard, through the un-manned gate. He was lucky; the guards were having a laugh amongst themselves. He saw a car in the distance; it seemed like a BMW. Emotions of anger and sadness engulfed his thoughts as he knew that it was Ian’s car (his uncle). He recognised his shiny number plate that his dear uncle was so proud of.

Suddenly, he became of a voice that seemed to be getting closer; the conversation was around Ian’s car. The person told the guard, “Get that BMW crushed as soon as possible. We don’t want anyone to see it and lay their hands on Ian’s murder evidence.”

Alex quickly climbed inside as they were talking he accidently dropped a piece of glass onto the grey concrete. The men started to walk across the breaking sound. Suddenly, he heard another deafening noise coming from, the front of the scrapyard.

It seemed to be a brick hitting a glass window which shattered.

“What was that? I’ll go check, you stay here.” The man whispered. A minute after, Alex came out of the car, trying not to create a sound. Out of the blue again he heard a thump, Alex crept around the scrapyard and saw two men on the ground, they were the two people from the funeral!

“Pssssttt,” Alex heard a voice coming from the front of the scrapyard. He thought that it was his head playing around with him but…

 “Pssttt! Over here!” It sounded like he was only a metre away from him. Soon after, Alex found out that the person who was whispering to him worked for Ian.

“How did he die?” Asked Alex.

“I’ll tell you after, but right now we need to run!” Exclaimed the spy.

Finally, Alex had arrived at the scrapyard: J.B.Stryker’s. It was a run-down area of wasteland, filled with unusable cars; behind Waterloo station. The unwelcoming property was enclosed by a rough brick wall, topped with coils of rusting barbed wire and shards of deadly broken glass.

From the opposite side of the street, the fourteen-year old could see the rotting wooden gates with peeling paint, which hung open, revealing the inside. He saw a small shed with a grimy security window. Beyond that were tottering stacks of worthless and broken cars; they had all been stripped of items of any value. Only the rusting carcasses remained, waiting for the inevitable end of their lives: the terrifying crusher, waiting to be fed.

The guard turned round to answer a phone, and Alex took it as an opportunity; wheeling his bike along beside him, he sprinted through the gates. The toxic stench of diesel overwhelmed his nose. Then, with a cough and a splutter, the crusher roared into life, deafening him with the din of engines. The huge metal claw, with an operator controlling it from a safe viewing tower, tore through the shell of a dilapidated car and plucked it off the ground. It then dropped it into a huge trough and, with an almighty clang and the starting of more heavy machinery, two metal wings began to close in on the helpless victim. The remains were then squeezed out and tumbled onto the ground.

Alex propped his bike up against a wall, then ran further into the scrapyard, towards a pile of cars. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar BMW. However, it looked fine; there wasn’t even a scratch on it. It was definitely his uncle’s car as he recognised the number plate. The truth hit Alex with the force of a truck. This car had been in no accident. Ian Rider had been shot. But who would want to kill a bank manager? The only explanation that came to mind was that he had a completely different job. Alex could picture the spray of miniscule yet fatal bullets with a penetrative coating smash through the window of the BMW’s windows and pierce Ian Rider’s heart. He saw the tiny holes in the skeleton of the car. He saw the crimson stains on the driver’s seat.


Alex Ryder by Rory  

Alex was shocked out of his trance when he heard a gruff voice behind him.

“You should have got rid of it days ago; do it now!” the voice commanded. The engines must have stopped for a minute. Alex was aware of how close the men were and so he threw himself into the only hiding place available: inside the car.

Cautiously, he looked out of the cracked windscreen and saw two men, one very much in charge of the other. There was something familiar about them. They were the men he had seen at the funeral: the driver with the gun and the other man, who probably had a gun too. Two shadows fell across him and disappeared. He was safe.

Suddenly, the BMW was hit with such force that Alex cried out as he was thrown back. The roof buckled and three deadly metal claws tore through the roof and grazed Alex’s head, just above his eye. Blood trickled over his eye as his uncle’s car was wrenched off the floor and into the air. They were about to process the car. With him inside it! He tried to stand but his leg was trapped and wouldn’t come free. He started to panic. Alex had seen a car being crushed only a few minutes before. Now he was hovering over the jaws of the monstrous machine. He saw the claws retracting and knew he was done for.

Then, out of nowhere, a dark ninja like figure landed on the bonnet. The claws stayed where they were, probably because the operator was now too shocked to move. Alex could tell the person was female, but her features were hidden. Then she took off her mask.

She had long, dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes which seemed to stare right through Alex. She had tanned skin and the kind of face that made him think she was Part-Spanish. “You’re coming with me,” she announced to him.

Just then, the car slipped out of the claw’s grip and fell into the hungry jaws of the crusher. For a split-second, Alex saw a look of surprise on his captor’s face but that didn’t last long. With an amazing reaction time, she reached through the window and yanked Alex up, just in time for him to avoid the razor-sharp wings of the machinery. Any later and he would have had his legs chopped off, which didn’t bear thinking about.

Alex had cut his chest in several places on the jagged glass on the window and blood seeped out over his chest and shirt. It would heal eventually, but right then it stung like crazy. He stood up on the bonnet but was given no time to recover. The wings were closing in again with a joint force of 500 tonnes. “Jump!” he heard the voice of the woman right next to him. Using all of his remaining strength, he pushed off the body of the car, just a second too late: his shoe got caught on the blade of the Lefort Shear and Alex yanked his foot out of the shoe. He then clambered out of the trough, away from the monstrous guillotine. Suddenly, Alex had a sack thrown over his head and felt it tighten. Then, he crumpled to the floor and everything went black.


Scrap-Taker by Charley 

Finally, Alex had arrived at J.B. Strikers. Their where dead and broken cars. Sneakly he walked through the gate his blonde hair waved as the sunlight struck him. Odd metal peaces of scrap had been thrown as he crouched to find his uncles car.

Half an hour later, he found his uncles BMW but it looked like, a ginger haired girl was rumminging through his fiels. Her hair was silky ginger she had grass, green eyes and a, angry expreshon, on her face like she was about to explode, until two men started walking over , arguing about his uncles BMW. They quickly jumped into the car and hid, then a huge squeeking noise started coming closer and closer, until they started lifting up into the air. A large metal claw slit Alex’s face while the other claw chopped the girls hair.

Suddenly a large crunching sound felt like Alex and the girl where about to get chopped up like pieces of onion. But it wasn’t a chopper it was a crusher. They started to go lower, until they saw an exit, we started to make a plan to get out the BMW. They risked their lives  and jumped …

They were hanging of the edge , we needed to climb up but it was too slippery

“We need to get out or we will get crushed!”  girl complained

“Don’t worry we will get out.” Alex sarcastically said, as the car got lower and lower until the girl jumped while doing a back handspring.

“Come on its not that hard.”  The girl laughed

“But I can’t do it” Alex cried

“Well just relax and jump.” The girl said, so he jumped and fell until… the machine got jammed because the car was so strong it broke the crusher so he had enough time to get out, and escape.

That wasn’t over tho. Three strong men walked over. One was ready to knock them out, the other looked as if he hated his job and the last pulled out a basic pistol. His body trembled with fear, his head felt like swiss cheese, but he  didn’t let that over, come him. He went in with a twirl kick and the girl did the same. They both ended two men but they forgot about the man with the pistol “powwww!” Alex was shot in the chest . The girl knocked out the pistol man and quickly raced him to the hospital . he had a terrible injuries and had a ten percent chance of surviving, but a miracle happened , he survived the shot.


Take a look at some of our writing. We were writing a narrative to fit a wordless




Absorbed in his deep thoughts, the lonesome man, who was overshadowed with solemn memories, slid his hands across the keys as a prepossessing melody glided through the room. His cuffs drifted across the piano, smothering it in sorrow. Every key, which was gently pressed, unlocked a room of mixed emotions. Tears trickled down his cheek as a Valley of depression was built in his head. His eyes welled with pain as the memory of his past crawled into his mind.

Without warning, a hand –soft to the touch- suddenly started playing as well. A luminous wedding ring glinted in the warm white light as the corner of the man’s lips twitched –he could feel his wife3sc presence. Suddenly, the tune changed as high notes echoed through the room. He held her hand tightly as he did not want see her go again. It was only for a second that his lips bent to smile but he soon realised she was gone. Her only essence was her small kiss on the cheek just before she faded.

Whilst he continued playing his melody, his notes changed pitch and so did his thoughts. He could still remember himself running towards shelter. He could clearly remember himself dressed in the khaki uniform as a white bandage stayed stuck to his arm. He had stealthily crept to the war shelter as finally (for once) rested his legs. His face was blank, expressionless and only moved to spit the dirt out of his mouth. It was then he had made the mistake. He could not believe this had happened. He was the reason Jon died! It was him who had signalled to shoot. Jon did nothing wrong. He was just doing what he was told to. After that he could only remember soaking his collar not only with sweat but with tears of loss ; Jon was the English dust buried in the German grounds. He still could not believe it, unfortunately it was the devastating truth.

Despite his exasperating thoughts, there was one gleeful memory which always had a reserved spot in his mind. Even thinking about it made him smile. His fingers moved quicker as his lips smiled. He could remember the exact moment and the words that were spoken. “Here you go son,” exclaimed the handsome man. “ The gift you always wanted!” The young boy glanced at the brightly coloured rapping as he ripped it of when he gasped in wonderment and amazement. “Thank you farther,” the boy laughed. “I will cherish this forever!” He could still remember giving his new  hobby horse ( Dobbin) a pat, and soon doing a brilliant jump onto his saddle. Dobbin would always greet him with same welcoming neigh – they were the best of friends! Dobbin always remained an important part of his cowboy life.

Whilst his fingers- as smooth as silk – glided over the keys, he heard the sound of the little feet echoing like the patter of rain. The sound of the squeaky rolling across the carpet soon stopped. His old hobby horse soon fell on the carpeted floor. His grandson nestled onto the seat next to next to him as he wrapped his arms around him.  He was the final key. The piece of ecstacy in the man’s jigsaw of life.




As the elderly man swiftly moved his wrinkled fingers against the chords, his memories flashed past him like wind in his face. The music sounded like a choir singing. The bald man was in the zone; he played as if there was an audience of thousands of people.

The man played with such elegance, even though his beloved wife had appeared next to him. Her hand moved as elegant as her husband’s. The man was still focused on the piano, but felt a sudden joy in his heart because his wife gave him a kiss on his cheek; he felt like his loved one was there with him.

The grand piano made noises which sounded like angels singing. To the man, nothing had happened, but he had another thing to remember his wife by. He then remembered the depressing time he was in army but he remembered too hard because suddenly, he heard gun fire. He remembered what happened and wanted the memory to end. It was him and his best friend hiding behind a wall. The man nodded to his friend to shoot, but before he could, he was shot in his chest. A tear fell from his face. He felt like he killed his best friend.

Even though he had horrible memories, he had one magical memory of when he received a miraculous gift(a hobby horse). It was the best moment of the old man’s life. “What have you got in the box father?” the young boy asked in

 “It’s a gift for you, I hope you’ll like it son,” his father said.

“WOW. It’s wonderful,” the young  boy shouted with glee and excitement.

“It was very expensive so don’t break it,” his father seriously demanded.

The boy jumped around on it for hours with a smile all over his face. Even though it was just a wooden horse, it had tons of sentimental value to him.

As his memory of receiving the hobby horse went on, he then witnessed his beloved  grandson was sitting next to him in flesh and blood. It felt like they were united again. Even though the boy they only played one note, they played in perfect harmony.



Engaged deep in his thoughts , the lonesome man was overshadowed with solemn memories that appeared to slowly tear him apart. His slender fingers, glided across the keys ; each keys seemed to unfold an emotion from the past . As the music emanated from the piano , it gained  momentum and emotions. Soothing music filled the room with a hopeful sound of peace. His heart pumped sadness into his eyes.

Out of nowhere , a ghostly hand appeared . It was her hand –his wives Instantly ,the mans feelings were uplifted  , which reflected in his music . The high notes reminded him of his wonderful life spent with his beloved wife . As she gave him a gentle kiss goodbye his feelings dampened as that was the last thing she had left him . The hand was gone . The melody quietened again .

As the aged man played the piano another memory came to his mind . He could still feel himself desperately running over to his friend hoping that he would have survived this tragic moment in the war; they ran over to the beaten wall, he demanded him to shoot!

Despite the fact, his mind had been recovered by his terrible past ,there was always one memory that he would cherish forever . Son, here you go this is the present you have always wanted. I hope you make memories with it ,” the generous father exclaimed  with  a huge grin spread across his face , waiting for his son to open his dream gift .

“Oh thank you father . I  will make memories with it ,”  the young boy gladly squealed . The child joyfully jumped up and down staring at the vivid  coloured wrapped gift, “It’s a hobby horse,” the boy shouted with delight!

He  was elated by the gift, leaving him to never forget about the hobby horse .He patted the horse on the back , jumped onto the saddle and started to gallop around imagining that he was a cowboy. The boy was ecstatic about the present , that his father gave him ; he would never let go it was like glue had stuck the boy and the hobby horse together 

Whilst the melody continued , so did his life. The past became the present as the grandchild cosied up to his grandfather and ended the piece of music at a high note. The boy and the elderly man turned towards each other and smiled with glee. The music was finished by his last family member. His life was filled up with new thoughts as the bad ones had washed away to the back of his mind.    



The man who has soft wrinkly fingers was playing the piano powerfully. He is sad and lonely and he fills depressed the song is calming and soothing and it pulls of your heart strings .the nice old man was playing the piano beautifully  as quirky as a flash a beautiful woman appeared and more emotions filled the room all of a sudden she kissed him on the cheek and in thin air .his beloved friend who he really  cared about was shot so he sprinted over to him and looked up and now he fills even more depressed .he is thinking I already lost two beloved people who is next me ? the elderly man had suffered brain loss but he can remember his three favourite one was him getting a hobby horse for his birthday thank you dad it is the best “said boy  “I am glad you like it said dad” all of a sudden the boy change into kids clothes newer days Adidas not olden day clothes.



Immersed in his melody the frail man was drowning in thoughts that were tearing him apart. His slender fingers, which glided elegantly across the keys would fill all hearts with mixed emotions. The sound of the keys was immutable for the melody carried the blissful noise from one end of the empty room to the other. As the chromatical scale was introduced, thoughts filled the man’s head which were unimaginable.

Whilst, he continued to play, his hands moved down an octave and while doing so his thoughts changed. He could still remember the weight of his gun on his shoulders as he moved swiftly to get behind cover his friends was rapping round the corner to reload his next barrel.

I ordered him to shoot. He spun round the corner aimed at his target and then the opposition and one of their bullets propelled into his left hip. shortly after he fell into an excruciating amount of pain. The pianist had two option go save the man or the alternative to get back behind cover and leave.

As his gory memory was restored to the back of his mind a new one began rolling.

“Oh father!” exclaimed the boy jumping up and down enthusiastically as he steadily reached for the box that his father presented him with

“What is it?” Questioned the boy. he shook the box longing for his dad to mention these two words open it son “open it son.” said the dad. The boy ripped open the turquoise paper leaving him to have an inquisitive approach on what lurked inside. As he dug his hands into the box and lifted up the horse the one he had been longing for. He slid it between his legs and continued to for fill his child-hood dream of being a cowboy; Just like in the show he used to watch.

Whilst, the melody played he witnessed his grandson, who sat flush up against his beloved Grandfather. This would be a memory that would overall the rest. The last note was played by his last remaining family member and the melody was added, as a new piece of the puzzle, now his grandson had to finish it off. 



As thoughts raced through the elderly man’s head, his delicate fingers glided from one to the other ,making an enchanted melody. Each time he touched a key it unlocked an old , valuable memory . That could never be forgotten . His heart appeared to be tearing up slowly but surely . Fear was scared of him but love ,no love , despised him . His eyes were sinking in water . No one felt his pain . An old broken heart that’s all that was left of him.

Suddenly, a ghostly , pale hand appeared ; a gorgeouswedding ringplaced upon one finger . She effortlessly played along side him , harmonising the beautiful melody . As she grabbed the gentlemen’s hand and tightly held it , the man longed to never let her –his wife – go again . Leaning over gently , , she offered him a meaningful kiss on the cheek . A delightful smile crept across his face ; the feeling of joy spread throughout his body . As she quickly disappeared into thin air , reality sunk in and the man returned  back to his miserable life without his beloved wife .

Whilst the music the man’s mind shifted to 40 years ago when his experience was plagued with the tragic war . he ran quicker than you could shoot a bullet . With his once worn army uniform he ran towards his[ loved ] brother. They both nodded in agreement that the plan would work. Little did they know, what disaster would occur . All of a sudden gun shots surrounded them . The  man immediately ran across the battle field. Soon enough , it happened. The man found his brother in his arms again.  

Despite remembering the horrible times ,he remembered back to the much simpler times. When life was full of joy and love . He reminisced about the gift his father had given him. He would never forget this time in his life .  “Here you  go son , your dream gift !” His father exclaimed.

“Really Papa? what is it what is it ? ”The son asked.

“Something you will never forget, something that will offer you many memories ,”  the father answered . The father slowly gave him the blue and pink box .

“ohh it’s a  it’s a hobby horse . How did you know ? ” The son screamed with delight.

“A fathers heart knows everything ,”the father announced .

“Thank you soo much papa I love it!” The child couldn’t stop smiling.

Every inch of the boys body was filled with joy ; a smile quickly spread across his face . this made the child’s childhood golden , he never knew dreams could come true until that moment . He couldn’t wait till morning to play with his new toy so he didn’t sleep all night

Whilst the music continued so did his life. His thoughts gradually shifted to the past to the present . He could hear the pitter patter of his grandsons footsteps on his rusty –but loved – hobby horse . he gently  but it on the burgundy floor . As he tried to climb next to his grandpa ,the melody went softer. As the music slowly came to an end , when it did it was all down to the last key . It was his grandsons turn . They both looked at each other with glee .Love filled the air making their hearts happer than ever.



Immersed in his melody, the aged, lonely man began his sombre tune, each note tearing away every miraculous thought from his mind. His slender fingers poured onto the piano as it rang outs it melody searching for varied emotions. His eyes welled with tears, threatening to escape. He was scared. Frightened. Petrified.

As the last of the note of the bar fluttered away, a hand (slowly translucent) brushing away the man’s own withered hand. The soft fleshy touch brought back the solemn memory-his beloved. Was she there? He didn’t dare look. Her hand closed around his own;  smile snaked its way along his face before returning yet again into a grimace of despair. A kiss was planted on the man’s creased cheeks and she was gone. A long tear trickled down his face, a twang of sadness reflected the pain of losing her again.

His mind shifted, as did the notes of the piano. They crawled into each other and a new memory was cast into action. He was in a war, a helmet clipped under his chin, a bandage was rappedaround his arm, he was running, leading a soldier to his grave. They sank behind the barracks their guns at the ready. He signalled but little did he know he was leading a fellow brother in arms to his death. The poor soldier fired, its jolt of the bullet spiralled out wards. The crippled soldier lay dead (spread out) the man ran to his side the guilt causing tears to poor from his face.

Despite the fact his mind was corrupted by a troubled, past the one fond memory that radiated joy was his child hood. His aged mind floated back transforming this memory to the now.

The elder remembered saying to his grandson on his grandson’s birthday,  ”Dearest grandchild I present a gift to show my affection to you!” his father exclaimed handing a box to his beloved grandchild.

The infant turned to his father, “Thank you grandpapa! I shall treasure this in all my memories!” he opened it and leapt onto his grandfather thanking him for a hobby horse, with an enormous embrace. Picturing himself as a cowboy, he gracefully galloped around his granddads mountainous legs.

As his past thoughts transferred to present reality, the man looked sideways as he felt movement on chair besides him. His last relative climbed onto the seat placing his diminutive hands on the table of music, he pushed his finger down allowing a high note to burst out. The song was over. So were the flashbacks. They looked at each other and it was all over.



As soon as his fragile fingers touched the first key , he could feel a sorrowful emotion running through his head . The notes he was producing gave a galvanizing feeling . The man was so focused on what he was doing  , he didn’t think of anything else . On the other hand , the man’s slender sedate fingers gracefully floated the piano . Every end note had a soothing touch to it .

All of a sudden , a hand appeared right next to the elderly pianist . It was her hand . His wife had emerged as a ghost . He felt like she was there . As soon as he saw the hand , he felt a burst of excitement inside of him . He could remember good a fun memories that they had had when they were younger  .

While he was playing gracefully , his mind changed quickly . His eyes had enlarged because he remembered when him and his friend where in the army and his friend got shot . He felt very depressed about remembering his friend dying in the army . As soon as , he  saw his friend , he urgently ran over to him to see if he was okay . It was too late he was gone .

The noise of the gunfire gave him a horrible shock and then he knew – he was brown bread . It was a sluggish death which was horrible .

He still had the bad memories in his head ; he reminisced over the food times he had back when was a child . His dad had a gift sitting in his hands . The boy was just so tempted to open it . Then he handed it over to him . “ Ha , thanks papa it’s a hobby horse , “ the kid screamed in delight

“That’s ok my precious boy ,”the dad explained in a kind voice

“ I will look after it forever ,” the boy shouted with excitement

The dad had saved up his money for a long time to get the hobby horse . It was the boys favourite toy and he would cherish it forever .

The young boy was riding the hobby horse as if he was a jockey rider dominating  the course . He even talked to it even though it wasn’t even alive . The hobby horse , which was the child’s favourite toy in the world  , loved the company of the boy .

As the past turned into the present reality , his thoughts kept flowing through his mind very quickly . He even had the remembrance  of when he was a boy and got excited about a hobby horse . His grandson has the hobby horse now and absolutely adores it . As the grandson and grandfather sat on the piano playing their sweet melody ; the young boy reached up and completed their melody by pressing the last note . 



The typical, elderly man, who had an immeasurable bank of emotions, was thinking about all the amazing times he had with this anonymous person. Each individual key represented one little thing in his life. The man had enough tears in his eyes he could fill a 1 litre bottle of sorrowful fluid.

The hand suddenly appeared, as quick as a note could be played. It’s like the hand was see through. A ghost maybe…. The man felt so differently. It was like he was not his normal self. The hand went. The man had a tiny tear in his right eye. He realized that he would remember that moment forever.

As the man ran, him and his friend took cover behind barracks. He signalled ‘go’ his partner was shot dead  in the chest. He sprinted to his partner but it was too late. He was gone for good. He tried to put a bandage on the bullet wound but it didn’t go to plan.

Despite the fact his mind corrupted by his troubled past, the one fond memory that radiated joy with his childhood, the man thought back to all of his strong feelings, the man also gave his grandson a gift. ‘open it’.



Immersed in his meaningful tune, the lonely, wise gentlemen glided his fingers across the glossy piano. The emotional melody he gracefully played, brought back memories of a dejected moment he had once experienced. You could see in his beady eyes despair and sadness filled up inside of him; he was heart – broken.(he had enough tears in his eyes , that he could fill up a whole entire swimming pool!)

As quick as a blink of an eye, slowly faded into visualisation, a miniature hand. The gentlemen felt the presence of his beloved wife, who had passed away, touch his soft skin. He felt the urge to feel to relieved as well as emotionally upset. This had clearly affected his music . Gradually, the wife’s hand slowly began to fade away into the darkness.

As the silent man was left a whole lot of amazing but devastating thoughts , a flashback immediately kicked in. Then , his head had begun flooding with dreadful memories. This was war. Soon enough, a swampy-green hat then mysteriously appeared onto the gentlemen’s head. He was there . At that very moment in time , he was into battle . Head to toe , he was covered in armour. Dingy-green armour covered him from top to bottom ,surrounding him with protection. Right then , he nodded to his friend to shoot. However, that had backfired ;the gentlemen’s friend had been shot! The wise gentlemen held his friend , who was his best pal, in his arms cherishing every moment they’d had together. As well as feeling guilty, the gentlemen thought that it was his fault.

Despite the fact his mind had been corrupted by his troubled past, the one fond memory that had radiated joy, was his childhood. His mind had took a trip his head , which had a whole tornado of memories, to have a look at his younger years. Blurring into realisation , he figured how he was giving his son his most-loved present.

“Why thank you Father. I love it !”

Exclaimed the boy opening the present gleefully with a huge grin on his adorable face .

“Good. Remember , always treasure this present as it’ll leave you a bank load of memories .”

Presented the boy’s father staring caringly at his beloved child, smiling with happiness . Stunned , the boy opened the gift with enthusiasm; a wave of joy washed over him washed upon him. As he began jumping up and down with excitement, he immediately hopped onto his hobby-horse.

He started to gallop around the floor on the horse. A grin suddenly crept up on his face {which was gleaming of joy .}He felt so fortunate that he couldn’t even explain with words how lucky he felt. The boy stood proud with pride. Feeling like no other and unique , he’d always exclaim to people how honoured he felt to have his stunning gift.

As time moved from past to present, the boys clothes had shifted from old to modern. He was wearing royal,beautiful blue shoes with white stripes across them , a vivid green t-shirt and some shadowy-blue shorts. Whilst the cheerful boy lay his beloved hobby-horse , he gradually climbed up the old-fashioned chair , settling his miniture-sized hand onto the glossy yet dusty piano. Eventually, they looked at each other with a slight grin on their faces , as the boy played the final key to the piano .



The elderly man, who was very committed to the piano, was playing a peaceful melody. His bony fingers which glided across the piano were like a dove in the air. The gentleman was depressed and dejected by the past.

His beautiful music brought back memories of the past. As he looked up ,you could see the dark-green, white and red crossed hat appeared on his head ;then the gentleman rapidly ran to the wall with his friend. After he nodded at the soilder, he moved and was ready to shoot but he was to late the kind soilder was dead.

Despite the fact that the past brought back a terrible thoughts, there was one lovely memory that stuck in his mind forever. His mind remembered the time when he got an amazing gift.

“I got you this gift for your birthday!” announced papa.

“A hobbie horse!!!” replied the young boy.

“Yes, you should keep this gift for the rest of your life!” exclaimed papa.

“I love it!!” shouted the boy with joy.

A smile wiped across the boys face as he stared at his gift. His face lit up like the sun rising up from the sunset. As a wave of amazement rushed over him. No but, the boy imagined himself trotting along trying to win a world champion horse race.

The melody shifted into the past; the boy was in the present reality. As the boy galloped around the piano, he was in a green top, blue shorts and blue trainers with white stripes on the side to wearing a suit which made him look smart like a prince.

In a blink of an eye, the grandpa saw his beloved grandson placed his centimental hobbie horse and came walking towards the piano. As the final note was coming up, you could see the grandson’s hand gradually placing his finger on the glossy piano keys. Immediately, he found the piece that was missing from his heart.



Focused on his past, the elderly gentleman began gliding his bony fingers along the piano. Each key a depressing memory which he longed to forget, but couldn’t. As he swiftly tapped his overwhelming melody, the dazzling spotlight revealed his wrinkled face, pale skin and deep eyes that hid a tragic story. His silver band on his finger shimmered in the light. He glanced down at it; his eyes filling with tears as he gracefully carried on his sombre music. The man’s wise face managed a small smile.

As if on cue, a ghostly hand reached out and played a gentle note to the touching music the man was making. He felt a twist of emotions. She had come back. He gripped his late  hand and the two played together in harmony. She wife leaned in and blew a soft kiss on his cheek before disappearing completely. His feelings faded. His beloved soulmate had left him once again. A thin tear dripped down his face as he remembered the sad memories of his past.

The man carried on whilst his mind spilled both good and bad memories. He flashed back to when he was running uncontrollably towards his friend, kneeling down and holding him in his arms before he drew his last breath. The music sped up while his feelings angered. They took him. They took him in war. He tensed up but soon relaxed because he felt no use in being angry in something that happened thirty years ago.

He rewinded back to a very special day.

‘‘Here you are my boy, happy birthday’’ Said father.

‘’A hobby horse, I love it!’’ Squealed the boy in happiness.

‘’Keep it safe son,’’ Father spoke with a spark in his eye.

‘’I will Father, thank you very much’’ Replied the boy, gleaming in pure delight.

Many years went by and the young boy riding the hobby horse turned into another generation.

The man snapped out of his thoughts, he realized his grandson sitting beside him, watching in amazement. They turned to each other and smiled. The light of his life, his anything and everything in flesh and blood. The senior man pressed a low key and the grandson stretched out and pushed his hand on one specific high note, making the most perfect ending. Grandfather and grandson gazed at each other, eyes sparkling. Like the song, his life was accomplished.



Sadly wicked thoughts flashed back while the man played the piano graceful melody. The elderly Man sat there with his head down concentrating so hard  and he pressed delcitly on the piano  keys. He sat there like someone broke his heart. He was wise , focused and timid. While he played the tune , mellow and soothingly , his emotions were conusemed and  over whelmed by the music and engaged with deep thoughts.

Suddenly, his Wife  appeared out of nowhere and sat next to him . She was  playing the piano as well . The man didn’t even notice her. She slowly lay her head on him and they were holding hands. She disappeared out of thin air.

 The music sped up quickly as the volume projected louder!  Amazingly , a hat appeared on his head he ran….  He was with his brother and he got hurt himself  instead of shooting the otherperson with a sharp bullet.

Despite his other memorise he treasured forever, this one shone out from the rest of  his childhood. While the music played in the background, a boy exclaimed with glee as he opened a present from is father “Thank you Father!“  His father’s face lit up with joy , while he happily said “ That’s  okay my beloved Son!”  He picked up the gift he has always wanted : a Hobby Horse. He rode his new toy like a cowboy.  As his face shone with glee he was having a time of his life! 

As memories went by, the toy horse was passed down the family . His grandson was the current person that has the old  toy . He dropped the toy on the floor. He went to go and sit down with his Grandfather they played together. The little boy played the last note of the song .




Earlier this week on Tuesday a horrible accident occurred when two bikers were spotted fighting a little boy. Also that boy who has since been named as ALEX RIDER!, who was always brave. The cops are still yet to discover why the bad guys are trying to hurt Alex. The attack took place on the green,grassy, field. Alex was walking through the fields trying to hide. Suddenly, the bad guys came and fighted them with all his fighting skills and a flame thrower to make a gigantic fire. The flame thrower was hit by Alex . it is believed that the incident began whislt Alex was walking through the fields. The quadbikes was so massive. Alex was brave at anything. Also there was a cheese wire to slice a man. Not that excitingbut he had a gun too which was not that powerful.



As the elderly man lightly pressed the keys , sorrow coursed through his slender body. The beautiful melody coming from the rust-brown piano soothed him, making his mind clear. His fragile  fingers gracefully glided across the keys and his usual timidity completely vanished. Memories- both happy and sad-flooded his head and reminded him of his grim but also joyful childhood. His eyes glistened with sorrowful tears; you could read them (the eyes) like an open book.

Suddenly, a ghostly , translucent figure appeared beside him: his wife. Her hand touched the piano and lightly played the beautiful melody in perfect harmony with the man. He felt the delicate touch of the woman’s lips as she gently kissed his cheek. A tear rolled  down it and dripped onto the floor. As quick as she had appeared, the man’s wife silently faded away into nothingness.

As the frail man continued to play the piano, his man wandered away back to when he was a soldier in WW2. He remembered signalling (by nodding) for his comrade to shoot and felt the emotion of seeing his friend being shot in the chest and being killed mercilessly. He remembered every memory- the sorrowful and the pleasant. Tears formed in his eyes as he saw everything happening again: the explosion, the bullet and his colleague falling to the ground. The already formed tears fell onto the piano as he returned to reality.

Despite the fact his mind was troubled by his sorrowful thoughts. The memory of receiving a long-awaited gift as a young boy. “Papa, what is in that box?” he enquired excitedly, as he cocked his head questioningly.                                                                                                                                          “Open it and see my dear son.” His father replied. He presented it to his son.                                              “I love it! A hobby horse, just what I always wanted. Thank you!” he exclaimed, as he opened the box. He jumped up and down in delight. A wave of joy crashed onto him, covering him in a blanket of  pleasure. He instantly put it between his legs and galloped like a horse; he imagined he was a cowboy.

Whilst the past changed into the present, the music proceeded. The old man as a child turned into his grandchild, the quiet pitter patter of the boy`s feet calmed the elderly man. He gently placed the hobby horse on the floor and jumped up onto the leather seat. The music was coming to an end; it was concluded by a single note played by the grandson. They looked at each other and smiled. The melody had been ended.



As the senior man played the piano, he remembered all the good and bad times in the past. As his heart filled with sorrow he wanted to cry but he tried to keep it in but as he kept playing, he tried not to cry.

 Out of nowhere, a faint hand appeared on the keys of the piano. She came. The ghost-like figure, which was of his wife, stood beside him as they both played an up lifting tune together in harmony.

As the man continued playing the piano, it got louder as he flashed back in to the world war. As he sprinted across the gun fire he nodded to his fellow brother in war. As he nodded back he went to shoot but he had got shot in the chest first, as he did the man ran towards him, but it was too late he died.

After that, the old man remember another memory that he had never forgot. ”Thank you  papa!” the boy exclaimed in surprise. “I adore it!”

“your welcome, my loved son,” his father replied. “take good care of it, for this gift will give you good memories for a lifetime.” After, he got the gift the boy asked, “What is it?”

“It’s a hobby horse my son.” As the father replied the boy went to play with the hobby horse as he went he had enjoyed the time galloping with the hobby horse.

Whilst the music continued, the past turned into the present reality as the boy played the last key note. Ehen they both looked up at each other, they smiled with joy because they were happy to see each other again. The song was finished.



As soon as the elderly man touched the soft gentle keys, memories came rushing back to him.His withered fingers looked like they had been playing for the whole of his life.His wonderful music changed his emotions as if it was meant to be a duet…

Then,in the blink of an eye,a translucent hand started to play.An old woman with grey hair leaned over to kiss him.The man’s feeling’s damped as the ghostly figure gave him one kiss goodbye.

Every key represed  a memory,he was playing until it got faster then he remembered a horrible memory about world war 2.He ran to a wall for cover the nodded to his teammate to order him to open fire .Upon doing this his teammate got shot ;he felt overwhelmed with guilt.He looked up to the sky as if to say one last goodbye.

Even though,his mind was turned to all the bad memories;he managed to remember a happy memory of when he was a child waiting to receive a long-awaited gift. “Here you go my beloved son,”the father said giving his son the present.The son opened the present an had an expression of joy “it’s a hobby horse,”the boy said with excitement.He rode it round the room like an outlaw galaping across the dusty deserts.

As the man remembered his childhood memories ,his grandson came galaping along on the hobby horse.The elderly man’s face lightened as he was surprised it could give him so much joy.He felt proud.The grandson dropped the hobby horse with care.The  grandson climbed on to the chair next to the old man.He reached his fingers out and pressed the last note.The song of memories was complete.



The mans fingers effortlessly touching the piano as he thinks about what has happand to him in the past and know as a tear fell from his eye  he felt like he lost her again then a hand apperd from the dark and plad the piano whith him to and the mildly just brout them tougeter and then she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

It was aboutsloutetr it was1934 the man and his mate wear in battle and then his mate got shot in the line of duty and the man trid to       save him but he could not save him then he whent back to the piano and  then  his kid came and plaed he piano whith him and as the boy sat down next to him and played the last note and tears fell from his eye he relseid he lost all his family but his boy.and he was relly happy for his life.



Mesmerised in the melidy ,he looked as if he was one with the piano. As he bursted into tears, out of nowhere a hand appeared she came .she only left him with a kiss . he looked at his shoulder but to his disappointment there was nothing there every enchanted key was one mildle memory

As he continued playing ,the piano got louder he sprung back to the ww one of his best friends got shot he racn to he  was to late

Dispite the fact his mind had been occupied  by his troubled past he remembered one good thought where he got a hobby horse ‘’ow thank you’’ he played with it.

Every day  and he had meny memories. He flipped back his grand son felt safe with him



Absorbed in his head of thoughts, the aged man was overshadowed with solemn memories of his past which gradually tore him apart. Steadily, his skeletal slender fingers with the most delicate touch glided over the piano  as fragile as vases but moved like silk: so smoothly, every key was one memory. His deep sea-blue eyes  showed a sorrowful story of his past; a horrid forlorn life of melancholy.                                                                                                                     

Carefully, his hands loomed over the piano like an eagle over its prey. His memories, vivid inside his head were appearing besides him. The phantom-like image of his former wife played in perfected harmony. As she took hold of his hand the pianist’s heart lightened , just like his playing. She lightly gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek before fading back into his head. A mournful longing tune filled the air again.

Crammed with sorrowful thoughts of his  past, his head opened up to the sombre melody of grief. His memories once again appeared, yet this time  an inconsolable reflection: war. He ran over to his comrade behind a blockade. Courageously, he nodded to him as he leapt out and aimed carefully-and fell back dead. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered the time of war. His guilt-the survivors guilt.

Despite this tragic life of misery, one blissful memory of his childhood shone out from the dark: a memory that would stay fresh in his mind forever. He reminisced a loving remembrance of his favourite gift… “What is it mama, it’s got my name on it?”, asked the little boy growing in excitement. She gave him a knowing smile                                                                                

“Why don’t you find out,” The boy ripped open the gift eagerly. His face glowed with amazement.                                                                                                                       “It’s beautiful!” he exclaimed “ I love it!” A sleek oak hobby horse was pulled out of the parcel by the boy.                                                                                                           

“Where did you get it from?” he asked anxiously. His mum faltered, but then gave an innocent smile.                                                                                                        “You needn’t know son, why don’t you have a go on it?” A grin spread on his face.

Imagining himself as a cowboy, he gracefully galloped across the land saying “yee ha” at regular intervals. It was a dream come true; all his hopes were alive. It was as if he was in a different world. He jumped and galloped to the soothing music of the piano. This memory would never die                                                                                                                                                   

Whilst his former self skipped on into the shadows, his beloved grandson emerged from the dark, with the now old hobby horse. He wore blue trainers; navy shorts and a green jumper. Bounding up towards the elderly man, who was finishing his piece, he gently pressed the last key, but it created the most powerful sound. The turned to each other- and smiled. He felt young again, like a child. His spirits were lifted.


As the man started to play, all his memories with a piano came back to him while his fingers were gliding gracefully along the piano. The melody he played was soft and mellow (that was why he liked the song so much). Normally when he played it he would forget all the problems that he had, but today his memories came out instead.

Then out of nowhere, the hand of his wife appeared and played gently with him. Just then he felt a surge of happiness as he remembered all the fun times he had with his wife. Just as he thought that nothing could get any better, she gave her husband a final kiss on the cheek; as quickly as she came she disappeared and never came back.     

As he continued to play, a medic hat suddenly appeared on his head and he remembered the time he was in the war. He imagined the time where he and his best friend were hiding against a wall. After a while his friend decided to go and he tried to attack enemies but when he poked his head out to aim, he got shot. The man remembered when he tried to help his friend but he could not help him. He died in his hands then he looked up into the sky wondering why this has happened.                                    

As the man continued to play, he tried to think of better memories than his other one. “Here you go my son,” exclaimed his father, “You should be careful with this gift because its memories may last a life time.” The boy picked up the gift carefully and opened it with delight.                                    “WOW! Thanks papa I been wanting a wooden hobby horse forever!” the boy said joyfully. His father replied.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    “I know, I was just walking down the street and I knew it would be perfect.” As he examined the wonderful gift, he thanked his father once more before deciding to play with it. He galloped across the room like he was on a real one and by now his face lit up like a lightbulb with excitement; now that he started he felt like that he could not stop.

Then the man turned his memories to the present and he felt happy because he had enough memories with the wooden hobby horse so he let his grandson have it. Now he could have as much fun with it as he had. Then, just as he started to finish the song his grandson came into the room with the hobby horse (he was dressed in a green sweatshirt, long blue shorts and a pair of blue trainers) .He walked over to him and he put the hobby horse down and he jumped onto the piano seat. As the last note was played by him, the elderly man and the boy smiled at each other as the melody came to an end.    



As the spotlight beamed light upon his bald head, his mind became filled with unfortunate thoughts- consumed by the evil feeling of sorrow . His bony slender fingers flew over the keys and produced music at the slightest touch . Black keys were used for power , to devour the fear which was felt . The piano was like an escape route from the real world : to a world of fiction and dreams. It was galvanizing treatment for those who heard it , mixing thoughts together like cake batter . He had felt this way before and was knowingly entwined in a lethal hold.

Quickly and quietly a translucent hand appeared and started to join in with the beautiful music wafting around the atmosphere . The audience of emotions breathed the melody as the two loving souls – one with widening eyes – performed a heartfelt tune . She turned around and kissed his age-wrinkled cheek before drawing back and fading away. Nothing sat in her place except her love.

He continued to play despite his sudden flashback and one led to another . His head rised upwards as he remembered the time he went to WWII – a powerfully destressing memory . He was sprinting towards cover with his friend. The pianoist signalled to his colluege to fire . It was the wrong decision . He  was shot himself and the piano man [younger version] rushed over forgetting about his own life. Tears rolled over his bony cheeks ; the droplets of water cascaded down his face like his feelings at the time . Despair had reeled the older man in.  He  cut away from the ropes of despondency  to enter one of his many treasured times . Back to the days of childhood when he received a meaningful gift . The specific words fuelled the feeling of glee as he reminisced the words : “ Oh my what is that large box wrapped in ocean blue paper – Is it for me?” The younger man questioned for he was truly puzzled why it was there.

“Yes  why son , I thought  you deserved a reward for your hard work !” is father replied in a joyous  mood.

The young boy took it carefully  and started to unwrap the present before exclaiming , “A hobby horse – what I always wanted . I shall play with it straight away ,” and so he did. It was the only thing he used between mealtimes, dropping it beside him to return as soon as he could. It was a trust worthy item if it were to break it would break him.

Years of love for the toy in the past now has a new beginning  in the present. The cherished bit of wood is being cared for by a new generation of people taking over from where the boredom had left off – leaving a stranded beacon for his grandchildren to go towards . His former self galloped round the corner changing to the mordernised figure of his grandson. Carefully he set the horse down and clambered up upon the seat , pressing his fingers on the final note. The two people looked at each other in a sphinx`s gaze. The song was complete.



The classical melody made a bank of memories within him. With each key he delicately touched, he was reminded of the memorable days he had with her. An immense amount of sadness hit the lonely, elderly man. His bony fingers glided across the keys effortlessly; like an eagle gliding lightly in the wind. His fingers hovered over the black and white keys, springing to life as they were pressed. Heartbroken his eyes focused on the emotional sound arising from the piano. From the heavens, the man’s angel came; his tune became higher than the roof of the man’s mysterious, magical room as well. Eventually, the room was filled up with love.

His mind drifted away from his beloved wife. It was 1939; his life was being protected by the mighty wall. The music sped up as he remembered the blood-curdling machine guns firing upon him like metal hail stones. Enormous melancholy engulfed him, controlling his emotions (causing him to press harder on the blameless keys).

Despite the fact that his mind was corrupted by his troubled past, the one fond memory that radiated joy was his childhood. His mind had taken a trip down memory lane – which turned dreams into reality. The grown man began talking to the young child which was actually the elderly man himself.
“Yipee!” the little boy excitedly shouted. The father explained,
“Store this in your heart for decades.”
“A hobby horse! Thanks Papa!” the boy joyfully exclaimed as he tore open the nicely wrapped plumb and turquoise-coloured paper. His eyes lit up with amazement. As the past shifted to present the young lad, who was now the proud owner of the antique hobby horse, climbed onto the stool beside his loving role model. The never-ending chemistry between them was clear as they planned the final note. Turning to face each other in sync, the grandfather smiled.