As Uncle Pete pulled and pushed different cogs spun round and fire shouted up. The balloon travelled up and up leaving the ant size people desperately waving good-bye. The most worrying thing in a balloon is the landing. Where will we go were will we be. In our basket there was me and my mum, Uncle Pete and a young boy about my age. I went over to him. I asked him what his name was and he surprisingly replied "Matt."
I was stunned by his longish brown hair curling round his eyes and ears. I was lost in his deep brown eyes that shined like brown olives around sharp garlic. We talked for a while. He loves sports, he loves music and he has a phobia of penguins. As I stand there watching the scenery. Birds flying, clouds moving and the sound of the sweet songbird. I took out an old rough book it was blue and labelled "My Adventures." I got it from Uncle Pete when I was younger. He told me to record all of my journeys. I found it hard to draw a picture. However I scribbled something between the flipping of pages in the wind.
As we are going higher and higher I can see the local team playing football and children playing in the park. A buzzard swooped close to my head and took a biscuit out of Matt's hand. I drew a picture of this bird. I gave it a brown tail and wings, a orange beak and tints of red on his wings. For a moment I pretended I had wings. I flew across the land seeing people in a totally different way. I swooped passed people on their balloon trip. They waved. I smiled and I came back to my own balloon and grew legs and feet again. I got a packet of malteasers out of my pocket and flicked them at Matt. I didnt know how to get his attention. I have never felt this feeling before.
The balloon started to go down. I thought why is it going down. I shouted "WHY IS IT GOING DOWN."
We were getting closer and closer to the ground. The basket got grass stains. We tumbled into trees and bushes. I got trees in my hair. I fell onto the floor. Matt held me close. I felt safe and then WOOOOSHH BOOM CRASSSHHHHH!