The last of this year's selection from our Everybody Writes Day, during which every pupil (and some teachers) in the school wrote about the theme 'Christmas Past'. Happy Christmas to all...That evening, the little country railway station was deserted, and I was the only passenger to leave the train, stepping gingerly onto the icy platform with my bag. My father was waiting in his car in the all-enveloping fog, and he drove us slowly and very carefully through the white frozen landscape. It hadn't snowed: the whiteness came from night after night of freezing frost. The headlights were dipped, the beams hitting the fog only a few feet away, and we moved along the deserted road, cocooned in the car, towards home.
In the morning, I opened the curtains to a bright blue sky. In the garden, the branches on the trees were heaped inches high with frost, crusty piles of sugar, sugar, sugar.
No comments:
Post a Comment