Year 6 Able Writers' Day Workshop

The imaginative narratives written by the pupils who attended the workshop.

The Home of the Storm

There I was, in my newly bought home.  I was cooking food, then suddenly felt the ground shake.  I saw clouds form in front of me.  My window slung open and I felt a draft of warm air.  All of a sudden, a loud warning siren filled up the room. Pieces of paper flew everywhere.  I could hear animals and the car alarms.  I peered through the window and froze in shock as I saw the horror.  The window smashed and I could see the twister tearing up buildings one by one.  As I stared outside I could taste the bitter taste of fear itself.  The glass shards of the window swarmed at me like a swarm of bees.  I dodged out the way but caught a few in my arm.  As I sprinted as fast as I could, the roof started to cave in, so I slid under a coffee table.  Out of the non-existing window, I could smell hear fear everywhere.  People screaming, destruction and strong gusts of wind that teared down the wall.  The food that I was cooking, splatted in my face and I could taste potatoes and bacon.  It was the end!


By Sammy

A Storm Hits


I could see a massive storm rushing towards me it was going faster than my car when I was caught speeding.  The sound that I heard sounded like a 1000 trains rushing towards me.  I couldn’t move I just stood there while I felt the cold winds blowing at me.  Dirt and mud flung into my mouth I thought I would have a splinter at the back of my throat because of the wood from the shed which was flying into my mouth.  It smelt disgusting.  I had to run. The storm was coming towards me.  I ran and rant to the nearest shelter but the door was locked!!!


By Callum

Thoughts were filling my head wildly as I appeared outside my door in cold sweat. Broken shards of glass were teared at my feet as I trampled along the paved garden.  Conveniently all the tiles were ripped up by a stinging wind but I took a leap of faith to a small bed sitting on the porch.  Sprinting, the great stinging wind grew into an enormous funnel. Pinching myself repeatedly, I didn’t wake up it was like I was trapped in a cardboard box as I ran to shelter I collapsed.


By Comfort