They walked for most of the day until he was so tired he nearly fell into
the raging river they were walking by. They soon stopped and fell into some
long grass that was by the river. After they had eaten the sun started to
go down and the air became colder. They had to find a shelter for the night
or they would freeze. The cold was slowing wrapping it self round the
world, winter was coming. They found an old farmhouse and the old women let
them stay in the hay barn, where they burrowed into the hay like mice. He
woke in the morning aching and scratched from the hay he looked around but
couldn't see the girl anywhere. He sat in the hay and thought for a long
time, about his mother and his village. His thoughts were soon interrupted
by bird song, but as he listened he realized it came from the top of the
barn where there was a small platform. He walked underneath it wondering if
there was a nest on the platform. His curiosity soon got the better of him
as he spotted a rope ladder hanging not 2 meters away from the floor
leading up to the platform, he jumped and caught the rope ladder in his
hands and pulled himself up to the first rung. He slowly climbed not
wanting to scare the birds on the platform. The ladder swung reminding him
of the time he was on a small boat and got carried down the river into the
rapids. A wind picked up, making the small rope ladder swing viciously, his
head swam, he closed his eyes gritted his teeth and carried on. When he
reached the top of the ladder he paused surely that was too loud to be a
bird song? He put his hand on the platform and pulled himself onto it.
She had got up early that morning and had gone to collect herbs and berries that she had seen growing on the way to the farmhouse, she had nothing to put them in so she had to use the pockets she had sewn into her dress the last summer. Her dress ad hands were soon badly stained from the bright juice of the berries, and her arms and legs covered in nettle stings and scratches from brambles. When she got back to the barn she emptied her pockets into the hay and started to sort out the berries from the herbs. When she had finished she went to look at the boy; he was still fast asleep. She went past him and got to a rope ladder, looking up she could see a platform. When she got to the top if the ladder she saw it was a small area with the wood white washed and the floor left bare. In the middle of the room was a chair.
He stared; he could not believe his eyes. The space he was in could have been cut out of a nursery of a wealthy persons house; there were cots and beds a rocking horse, a dolls house, a small china tea set, a mobile of cars hanging from the ceiling and a large chair facing the wall. The bird song got louder as he walked round the room, but something made him stay away from that chair. He could no longer hear his own thoughts as the bird song got steadily louder and louder. Then it stopped.
She walked over to the chair; it was a small wooden chair that was stained a darker colour over the lighter wood. It was splintering on the legs and the arms, and the rust of the nails was starting to show through the wood. It was just like any other chair that had been left for ages in a damp place. She went to sit on it but hesitated, the air all around had a feeling like moving through water. She sat slowly on the chair, wind whipped through the barn throwing her long black hair around her like a dark halo. The wind got harder and harder the world seemed to be spinning around her. She sat down, the wind stopped. She sat there stunned as she looked all around her.
He walked to the chair in the middle of the room and sat on it; a chilled wind picked up and seemed to spin the chair. All he could see was a blur of gray, white and black.
She had got up early that morning and had gone to collect herbs and berries that she had seen growing on the way to the farmhouse, she had nothing to put them in so she had to use the pockets she had sewn into her dress the last summer. Her dress ad hands were soon badly stained from the bright juice of the berries, and her arms and legs covered in nettle stings and scratches from brambles. When she got back to the barn she emptied her pockets into the hay and started to sort out the berries from the herbs. When she had finished she went to look at the boy; he was still fast asleep. She went past him and got to a rope ladder, looking up she could see a platform. When she got to the top if the ladder she saw it was a small area with the wood white washed and the floor left bare. In the middle of the room was a chair.
He stared; he could not believe his eyes. The space he was in could have been cut out of a nursery of a wealthy persons house; there were cots and beds a rocking horse, a dolls house, a small china tea set, a mobile of cars hanging from the ceiling and a large chair facing the wall. The bird song got louder as he walked round the room, but something made him stay away from that chair. He could no longer hear his own thoughts as the bird song got steadily louder and louder. Then it stopped.
She walked over to the chair; it was a small wooden chair that was stained a darker colour over the lighter wood. It was splintering on the legs and the arms, and the rust of the nails was starting to show through the wood. It was just like any other chair that had been left for ages in a damp place. She went to sit on it but hesitated, the air all around had a feeling like moving through water. She sat slowly on the chair, wind whipped through the barn throwing her long black hair around her like a dark halo. The wind got harder and harder the world seemed to be spinning around her. She sat down, the wind stopped. She sat there stunned as she looked all around her.
He walked to the chair in the middle of the room and sat on it; a chilled wind picked up and seemed to spin the chair. All he could see was a blur of gray, white and black.