A World Divided

A World Divided

 

L.M Owens

 

Before the earth was divided by oceans and mountains, there were three kingdoms spread across the world. The first kingdom was ruled wisely by kind King Benignus who was the world’s best healer – though he was but a boy. His laws were obeyed by his peoples across the lands of Africia and Oceaniac, and his kindness and loyalty were known across the globe, as was his courage and cleverness – more befitting to a man twice his age. The second ruler was the lily-livered King Mitis, an ally of King Benignus in the south, always to be found wanting at the first sign of trouble, even in the defence of his own territories of Europia and Asiac. In his old age, Mitis had developed a fatal disease but was spared its vengeance, due to herbs and tonics prescribed to him by his noble and generous ally. The last and worst of this trio of kings, whose name was spoken with fear throughout the lands, was the ruthless King Cupiditas. His mind was sharp and his tongue sharper. He controlled North and South Ameraci with an iron fist - callously disposing of of any opposition and his greedy fingers were always grasping for more land. Despite the temptation, he never dared to invade King Benignus’ territory, who he secretly both feared and admired, but he had already made several attempts to conquer Mitis’ land – and would have succeeded had the old man’s ally not come to the rescue. Cupiditas had a sinister influence over a group of giants in a separate self-governing land of Antartictia who he had cultivated as a valuable ally. The other kings always felt threatened by this friendship – knowing that if an attack came from King Cupiditas, supported by the giants then they could never win.

It was on a sunny morning of Thorsday* when the two allied kings’ worst fears were realised. Birds twittered in the garden of King Mitis as a messenger rode into the castle grounds. His appearance was haggard and worn, as though he had been travelling for many days and nights. His message to the weakest king was as follows: “Your Highness, I come from your friend King Benignus, who warns you that your territories face grave danger. King Cupiditas approaches with 20,000 men and and army of giants! They are at least 3 months walk away from you, Your Highness. Alas, the giants’ immense weight has already ruptured the earth’s core and the ground has cracked, causing an underground geyser to erupt and flood the land. He commands you to build a wall of immense strength. His own territory is withstanding the tirade, with a mighty wall, built by the finest stone masons. He loans this service to you and implores you to build a wall tall enough to scrape the sky and strong enough to endure a thousand nightmares.  Hurry for the army approaches and so does the flood!

 Bewildered and frightened, Mitis retired to his chambers leaving his two emboldened sons as regents to conscript every mason and man strong enough to pull a cart to begin construction on the largest wall ever seen in the kingdom. It was to stretch around the perimeter of the entire kingdom. The subjects waited on tenterhooks for news of the approaching army, but none came. The structure began to take shape without delay. The two regent kings spurred on the workers with rallying speeches and assurances of victory - though Mitis’ dejection still seeped through the kingdom and under doorways like a noxious gas, despite his sons attempt to spur the people on. The tension in the air was so thick that you cut it with a knife. A month past. Two months past. On the third month the enemy was visible on the horizon. The giants were so huge, that even from a distance their clubs and massive hands were clearly visible. They moved with long blundering steps, and were so tall and wide it was like watching bits of the mountain behind them moving. Their craggy features, as though carved from rock by a stone mason unsure what a human face looked like, were twisted in evil snarls. The kingdom was in disarray. Everyone was running, shouting, screaming that the giants were coming. But all hope was not lost– for the wall was almost finished. A few days after the herculean job of building the wall was finished, the quiet night was disturbed by a deafening SMASH! Lights flicked on as candles were lit in every window. Pyjama-clad citizens rushed out of their homes all trying to see what had happened. The army of Cupiditas (including the giants) had been hurled against the wall by a giant gushing wave that - like a leopard that had reached the high ground and was pouncing on its pray from above. Loud shouts told that men and giants alike were repeatedly being battered against the hard stone wall, their bruised bodies finally going limp. The whole country waited with bated breath to see if their arduous work would pay off. The wall stood like a fearless soldier constantly denying the enemy entry to their kingdom and every person breathed a long, deep sigh of relief.

Now separated from his ally by an ocean and so unable to receive his medicine, King Mitis passed away shortly after Cupiditas’ failed attack. His two sons continued to rule together - one presiding over Europia, the other Asiac. King Cupiditas drowned along with the rest of his army when he failed to conquer Mitis’ kingdom. The land of Ameraci and Antartictia became uninhabited. King Benignus continued to rule Africia but was unable to rule Oceaniac which had drifted away and its people installed their own system and governed themselves. And that, dear reader, is the story of how the continents were created and the catastrophic events brought about by the greed and lust for power of a ruthless king.

Expect the Unexpected

 

Expect the Unexpected

L.M Owens

They turned and hurried back down the steps. “I can’t believe you forgot your purse! Now we might miss the movie!” moaned Sandy frustratedly as they pounded down the street, rain drumming a violent tattoo on Jackie’s exposed neck. “I knew I should’ve kept my hair down!” Jackie cursed, covering her drenched skin with her hands in an instinctive attempt to shield herself from the rain. Sandy grumbled something in response, focusing most of her concentration on not slipping on the puddle strewn ground, the lashing rainstorm causing a chaos of ripples on the surface of each. “Here!” shouted her companion a moment later “I told you it wouldn’t take long, didn’t I?” “Oh for goodness’ sake! Just go and get your handbag!” interrupted Sandy shaking her hair to rid herself of water droplets like a wet dog. Jackie rolled her eyes and sprinted into her house.

“Come along then.” Said Jackie jovially as she ran back from the house, in a perfect imitation of Sandy’s most irritated voice - though winking at the same time, “We don’t want to be late.”

The lights shone dimly like fireflies as the two girls searched for their seats in the rapidly filling cinema. Clutching popcorn and sweets for the film, Jackie and Sandy shimmied through the sea of knees to their spot in the last row. Just as they sat down the room was plunged into darkness. There were audible gasps and shushing as the huge screen flashed into life. As the many adverts droned on, Jackie whispered, “I’ve seen her somewhere.” “Who?” asked Sandy dropping her voice and looking around curiously. “Her, the lady in front of us – the one with the glasses.” replied Jackie nodding at a woman with thick spectacles, a ludicrously high bun placed at the top of her head and a plain tweed dress - completely at odds with the crimson high heels bedecked with a large ornamental rose, which would look more fitting for a visit from the queen. Sandy studied her for a few minutes. “I haven’t seen her before.” she eventually said, nonplussed. “We go everywhere together. I think if you knew her then I would remember such an odd looking woman too. And I don’t. The only time you did something without me was when you and your parents watched this movie.” Sandy was convinced that Jackie was imagining it because she had never seen the funny looking woman in her life. Jackie sat wonderingly, pondering the lady and screwing up her face in thought. Suddenly she was jerked out of her reverie as Sandy gasped excitedly, “Ohh! Jackie! Its starting!”

The whole crowd was riveted to the movie – they couldn’t take their mesmerised eyes off it. Jackie found it harder and harder to contain herself. She was like a squawking parrot who wouldn’t shut up. “Oh look!” Jackie would say pointing at a grizzled looking man who just appeared on screen. “Not to give any spoilers but keep watching him - you won’t expect this!” “Jackie. The point of a thriller is to not expect things when they happen!” Sandy would hiss vehemently in Jackie’s ear.

It was a tense watch - full of betrayals and backstabbers. Sandy’s eyes were so wide that you could see the whites all round the iris, as she watched the murderer shroud herself in a cloak of innocence.

 Without warning the lady in front of them stood up, with a purposeful look on her marble features. She strode through the rows with a cold look of determination and clicked her tongue at the unfortunates who had to stand up to let her pass. “Ohh!” keened Jackie furiously, “Sit down can’t she? It’s about to come to the best bit!” There was angry muttering and craning of necks as the stony figure obstructed people’s view.

A few minutes after she had departed, the screen zoomed in on a familiar looking hallway. A tall lady crept into the frame. It was obvious to Sandy that this woman lacked any dress sense whatsoever. Who had even heard of a green dress with red shoes!? She tiptoed across the room and concealed herself behind a door leading into other rooms. A glint of sharp silver was visible in her hand. All was silent. A short squat man wearing a purple waistcoat that bulged slightly at the edges entered the corridor. His hand was clasped around the concealed handle of a gun. He was waiting on someone. He took another tentative step forward, which was the hidden figure’s cue to pounce.

“My goodness,” said Sandy as the two girls exited the cinema that was now flooded with light. “What a terrifically terrifying film!” “I know” grinned Jackie “brilliant wasn’t it.” “SOMEONE!? QUICK! PHONE AN AMBULANCE!” yelled a loud voice from the entrance hall. There were terrified screams and indistinguishable shouts. Jackie and Sandy stared in horror. Their blood ran cold. What just happened? They raced to the large entrance hall. A man dressed in an old fashioned purple waistcoat lay in a pool of blood with a dagger buried in his chest. Sandy pointed shakily at a tall lady walking down the steps, a casual smirk crossing her face as she watched the crowd congregating around the dead man, with callous indifference. “Jackie. I was wrong,” said Sandy faintly, “You weren’t imagining it.”

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children Book Review

 

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

Book Review

 (5 stars)

Have you ever watched Tim Burton’s movie, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children? Well, it was based on a young adult/dark fantasy novel - written in 2011 by the author, Ransom Riggs. Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children is the first book in a series of six. It is a chilling fantasy based in modern day Florida and written in the first person. It follows the life of sixteen year old Jacob Portman who witnesses his grandpa’s death, not before he shares his final last words, “Find the bird in the loop. On the other side of the old man’s grave. September 3^rd, 1940.” After hearing this cryptic message, Jake sees a monster from childhood stories looming in the distance - ready to attack again. Was it really there? Was this his grandpa’s killer? As a child, Jake’s grandpa would tell him stories of children with supernatural abilities, their headmistress Miss Peregrine, who could transform into a bird – and shadow creatures with tentacles for tongues that hunted them. Believing he is maddened by grief, his parents enlist the help of a psychiatrist who attempts to convince Jake that the trauma had caused him to imagine this creature.  After finding an old letter addressed to his grandpa, dated 1940 signed ‘Alma Peregrine’, along with some mysterious photographs, Jake starts to wonder whether his grandfather’s crazy stories weren’t so crazy at all. He decides to go to Wales to try and contact Miss Peregrine and see the children’s home his grandpa grew up in. Arriving at the children’s home in Wales, he finds it destroyed by a bomb in WW2 and the residents surely long dead.  Jake searches the wrecked old house for any clue – any hint explaining his grandpa’s murder – but as he walks through each passageway and bedrooms it seems – impossible as it may be – that the children are still alive...

I enjoyed reading this book and I found it both exciting and bloodcurdling. The book contains many creepy vintage photos and gradually reveals more about Jacob’s grandpa’s character (Abe Portman) – unveiling more and more secrets throughout the book. I disliked Jake’s personality from the very start and found him ungrateful, rude, and overall, a big pain. However, I think that the plot deserves five stars as it really keeps you on tenterhooks, wondering what’s going to happen next. Despite the amazing aspects of the book, I have rated it only four stars because the language used is terrible. Swear words and cursing is common throughout the first half but I connect this to the fact Jake is lonely and it becomes less frequent after his circumstances change. Ransom Riggs excels in describing character’s feelings but lacks in any description of appearances which leaves the reader to decide themselves what characters look like. I would recommend this book to people who have previously read Sherlock Holmes or enjoy thriller and murder mystery.

 

In Memory Of

 Hi! Happy new Year! I got the inspiration for this story off of a website full of story ideas there is hundreds of these on the web that really help when your trying to think up a plot. Hope you like it!

In Memory Of

L.M Owens

 Her foot slipped and she started to fall. She was hurtling down through eternal darkness and as she plummeted, she remembered the good times and the bad times, the fights and the friendships. As the flood of memories washed over her, she found it harder and harder to withstand them.

Kathleen sat on the hard wooden pew. She wore a plain black dress and a veil. Her eyes were wet with tears. As she listened to the priest claiming how good a man he had been, she stared at a stained glass window depicting God showing mercy and forgiveness. And Kathleen wondered for the first time in her life if it was worth it. “But God didn’t show mercy for my husband. God’s love didn’t stop him crashing his car. So why should all my praying and devotion to God save me? All my life I have prayed for the love of God and thanked him for what I have. And what good has it done? Maybe it’s time I lived my own life.” Their children sat around her, consoling each other. Kathleen would have liked them to visit her more often but they were all adults now with families of their own. Almost the whole village had arrived to commemorate him. Mr. Robson had been a good man, always friendly, a generous father-a loving husband. She swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing deep down she could never love anyone else.

 

“Mum, are you sure about this?” It was a month after Mr Robson’s funeral and Kathleen Robson was packing a suitcase while her eldest child Maria stood over her. “You could go on a nice camping trip instead but you can’t climb a mountain! Especially alone.” Maria pleaded with her. Kathleen took a deep breath, staring at her daughter. “Life’s too short Maria, look at your father. Who’s telling when it’ll be my time. I want to enjoy it as much as possible. It was always your fathers wish that we could climb Ben Nevis together. I’m not letting anything stop me.” She felt that this final act in memory of her husband would soothe her far more than the priest’s words. She was determined to carry out his final wishes. “But-” Maria began. “There’s a caravan site nearby, I can stay there” Kathleen interrupted. “I wouldn’t worry. I’ll only be away for the weekend; I’ll be back before you know it.” she assured her. Kathleen picked up her rucksack, waved goodbye and marched out of the house. She had waited all winter for this moment and as soon the first burst of spring sun shone through the murky grey clouds, she was off!

 

It was time. Ben Nevis loomed in front of her, its peak blanketed with impenetrable grey mist. “Easy” she said, though her stomach fluttered with anxiety. Heaving her rucksack off her back she detached her walking poles. “And these are for… oh well I’m sure I’m fit enough to manage without them.” And she threw them into the boot of her car before setting off. Without her husband, Kathleen was an inexperienced climber, not that she would admit it.

 

Looking up onto the mountain she saw four small specs descending the path. Hikers. Scanning the area, she discovered an obvious trail leading to the peak. So that was where to start. She began to climb the slope. After fifteen minutes of walking, Kathleen met the hikers she had seen in the distance. “You sure you want to go up today?” One of them said. “The bad weathers coming in fast.” “I’m sure I’ll be fine I’ll watch out.” she said confidently. They continued on their way. Despite waiting for spring to arrive, her fingers were soon numb with cold and her breath condensed in the crisp air. After an hour of nonstop walking, Kathleen’s feet felt like lead. She sat down on a rock and massaged her blistering toes.

 

Before she knew what had happened, grey fog suddenly impeded her vision, rain hammered down like bullets and the rocks became slippery and wet. Trying with all her might she attempted to gaze through the fog. Thinking it would be best to continue, she got to her feet. But Kathleen couldn’t see a thing and without realising, she strayed right off the path. All around her the dense air reminded her of her childhood days in London and the yellow pea souper fogs. Scratchy branches tore at her hands and she knew must have walked off the trail. In an effort to find her way back, Kathleen pushed branches aside, desperately feeling her way through nothingness. Just as she was sure she would soon be back on the path, the ground disappeared. Kathleen fell, plummeting like a brick. A long drawn out scream escaped her lips as the hard rocky ground materialised out of the gloom and she lost consciousness.

 

Kathleen surfaced from her death like slumber as soft footsteps approached her. Slowly, she opened her bleary eyes. She lay in a warmly lit room. Gold shimmers sparkled on the walls and ceiling. The floor was covered in a crystal white carpet which was light and bouncy to the touch. Looking down at herself, Kathleen noticed that her waterproofs and dirty tattered old hiking boots had been replaced by a gentle white gown, not unlike the one she had worn on her wedding day that fell to her ankles. Her hair was smooth and silky, set in bouncy blonde curls like it had been in her youth. Her skin almost glowed and as she stood, she felt as light as air.

 

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Kathleen spun around - hardly daring to believe the voice that she heard. He was just as she remembered him – tall, handsome, his chestnut locks falling casually over his eyes. “Peter?” she whispered staring at her husband. He gave a wide smile and took her into his arms. Behind Peter stood a crowd of people. Noticing her gaze, Peter added, “They’ve been waiting too.” Staring into the crowd she picked out her mother, father, aunties, uncles. They were all there. “Oh, Peter I feel so happy as though I’m in heaven!” she said beaming at him. “My wonderful dearest Kathleen,” he replied stroking her hair, “You are.”

THE END

Struggles

 Struggles

L.M Owens

The sun shone through our grimy window, sending a fiery glow across my Ma and siblings who were still sleeping on our mattress. The sheep that woke me up baaed louder than usual and I prayed for its silence so it would not awaken poor Ma, who needed all the rest she could get. Thankfully, my plea was answered. There was no point trying to go back to sleep so I lay in my itchy blanket, thinking. I was positive that today would have no misery. None at all. All of those days I wished I was invisible were over. All those days of scorn and ridicule were out the window.  No more gossip and rumours about the stability of our family, no more lies about my father’s morality and whether he would ever send for us. Today it was finally happening. I was heading for a better life.

Silently, I tiptoed past my family and crouched by the fireplace. I glanced at Ma’s watch as I crept past her, 6:00am. I sat on the hard stone floor, staring into the blackened chars from last night and shivered. The outside door had no lock and it swung open with a little creak. A small stack of twigs lay by the door collected by my twin brothers Sean and Patrick.  I picked up the little bundle and as I made to step back inside, I glanced hopefully at yet another patch of freshly dug ground. Green leaves sprouted from the earth. I ran forwards landing on my knees beside our priti patch and began to scramble at the soil with my fingernails. I pulled out a newly grown priti  but as I gazed at it triumphantly, I noticed the incriminating brown marks on it. The land had been cruel to us and I would not be sorry to see the back of it. Turning my back on our 6^th priti patch and feeling as though a lead weight was being dropped into my stomach, I made my way back into our blackhouse.

I threw the dry sticks into the grate and struck a match. The timber ignited immediately and the cold room was filled with warmth. I spent the next couple of hours on the cobbled floor staring into the dancing flames of the fire, imagining America – the land of the free, streets paved with gold, friendly new faces alongside sorely missed relatives. 7:00am, 8:00am, I thought it was time to wake the others. This had been Lana’s job since Pa left but I knew she would be exhausted from working extra hours to make sure everything was ready before our departure, so the responsibility had fallen to me.

“Ma?” I shook her gently and she woke with a start. “We don’t want to miss the boat to ‘merica Ma.” I said helping her up. She nodded and smiled, patting my arm.  The next hour was a frantic rush of trying to collect the few belongings we would be taking with us.

As per usual, Sean and Patrick were racing to see who could pack their things the fastest. Sean and Patrick were identical twins. Patrick was older by 5 minutes so everything in life was a race. Who can eat the fastest? Who can clean the house the fastest? Blah Blah Blah. Reaching their tenth birthdays soon, they are the youngest living siblings in the family. Their bright ginger hair gives the impression that their head is on fire and their piercing blue eyes are like shards of shimmering ice. The spitting image of my father (though without the beard.) I missed my father so much. He had left to find us a farm in America two years ago and we were now following him. Lana is my oldest sibling (and the most responsible). Her fourteenth birthday was last week. She seems to have taken over from Pa and spends most of her time helping Ma. She has electric blue eyes (like Pa) but her long wavy blonde hair is identical to Ma’s. Although Sean and Patrick have not realised it, I know that Lana, like me, has realised that Ma’s racking cough is not harmless and has been trying to do everything to help her.

 

As we left the blackhouse, we all knelt beside the two crosses erected in the hard ground adjacent to our home and said goodbye for the final time to our younger siblings who never made it through the harsh winter.

With only small sacks slung over our backs we began the long walk to Queensland port. Within thirty minutes my crumpled feet were scratched and painful due to the hole that had worn away at the sole. After hours of what felt like pointless meandering we reached the dock with a few minutes to spare. We had been told that the ship was big – the biggest there is, but nothing prepared us for this. A great beast of a liner loomed in front of us, blocking out all sunlight. My mouth fell open and I gawped at the marvel like a fish out of water. Every inch of it was under my scrutiny but when my eyes rolled over the poop deck, I froze.

 A beautiful girl, about the same age as Lana, stood on the deck - her long periwinkle blue dress and blonde ringlets so regal I was sure she must have been a princess. Our eyes met. She raised an eyebrow and took in my dirty hair and frayed clothes looking disgusted. I stared at my feet and she turned imperiously away from me. “Never be ashamed o’ who ye are, my children.” Said Ma who had clearly noticed the girl too, before she began to cough and splutter once more. I stumbled to the gangway with my family. My mind was swirling with angry thoughts. I could not help being poor. I could not help that all I had was a sack slung over my shoulder. She obviously had never known real hunger, never stopped to think that some people can’t afford maids or porters.

When I reached the gangway, I was pulled out of my reverie by a uniformed man yanking my hair back, none too gently. I looked up, annoyed, but then understood. Ma had explained that as we were 3^rd class passengers, we would have to consent to a health check so I kept quiet. The man looked as though he would rather be anywhere else than in my hair. I couldn’t blame him. Even though Lana had helped us all to wash earlier in the week, my auburn hair still looked dishevelled and unkempt compared to those looking down on us from high above.

Once I had been deemed healthy enough, I looked up, ready to take in the beauty of the ship again. With a jolt, I saw the same girl staring back at me. She stood beside a
large potbellied man – who could only be her father. Both were looking at me as though I was a disgusting sea-slug. I did not want to see the looks of disdain on both faces and quickly examined an insect that had also been journeying up the gangway. But then I reminded myself of my thoughts from earlier that morning. I was positive that today would have no misery. None at all. Gone are the days of wishing I was invisible. No more scorn or ridicule. Head held high, I stared with excitement as we entered the biggest ship in the world. We were aboard the magnificent Titanic.

  

The Race

 The Race

She sped around the corner, the crowd’s cheers ringing through the stadium. Fourth place, third place second place! Her steed’s nose was inches behind the horse in first. The lead jockey kicked out, attempting to unseat her, but she was too fast for him. Like a bolt of lightning, her trusty mare galloped onward leaving the competition far behind. She flicked hair out of her eyes and gritted her teeth. The final turn, the finish line was in her sights. She could see herself holding the trophy - it felt as though she had already won. One last hurdle remained between her and victory. Easy. She dug in her heals and her steed obediently galloped faster than any other. The crowds roared their approval, jumping up and down in their seats. She leant forward in the saddle preparing to leap over the final jump. Suddenly the ground was coming up to meet her… CRASH! Back to reality. She was lying on the arena floor staring up at her pony’s face, the ground free of stampeding horses or roaring crowds. She rolled over and clambered to her feet, brushing sand from her jodhpurs. “Lily!?” called Laura the riding instructor. “Are you hurt?” “No, I’m fine. Just daydreaming again.” “Congratulations! That’s you a real horse rider now!” she said, clapping Lily on the back. Lily grinned sheepishly and hauled herself back into the saddle, ready to try again.

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

Vote for Basil

  I'm so sorry I haven't uploaded for so long! I really wanted to write a new Basil story so... here we are! Anyway, this story is about the upcoming election and I thought this would be funny. I'm currently reading Animal Farm by George Orwell so I took inspiration from that. Enjoy! 😀

Comrades,

I care about Nithsdale more than anywhere else (apart from the treat cupboard.) It’s where I was born and has been my home ever since. More importantly, I care about the welfare of pets and all animals. Which is why, as a member of the Society Of Dogs party (S.O.D) I encourage you to elect me as your representative in the Scottish Parliament, on 6^th of May 2021.

All animals are equal (but some are more equal than others, in the case of cats.)  Personally, I think Old Major had the right idea. Animals are not the slaves of humans and we can think for ourselves. It is now time, comrades, that we take our place as equal members of society.

I have a dream comrades. I have a dream that one day my four legged friends will not be judged by the colour of their fur but by the content of their character. And I hope, comrades, that you will support me so that this dream can become reality.

 Through uniting the animals, I will revolutionise Scotland and fill every Scottish animal’s life with fairness and unity and always put my constituents before myself. These are some of my pledges:

If your pet is under 6yrs of age you will be able to apply for the Scottish Pet Payment (S.P.P) Anyone can apply for this as long as the animal you register is not a cat. No cats allowed. Food, the burning of leads, dental care, toys, blankets, beds or even family outings can all be funded by S.P.P. Every two weeks, £10 will be transferred to your bank account to help look after your dog, rabbit, bird, snake, or polar bear, but not cats. If S.P.P appeals to you, vote Basil, the pooch who is proud to support Scottish pets, but not not cats, those demons of the underworld.

Every pet owner has the legal obligation to look after their furry friends. The Animal Health and Welfare (Scotland) Act 2006 was approved so that every owner has a legal responsibility for their animals.  In the Welfare of Dogs: Code of Practice it states that your dog should be well trained and have enough exercise. But I pledge to extend this list to include that all animals should have a reasonable education. It is a human right that every person must receive an education, so why not animals? Wouldn’t you like your pet to be able to multiply like a calculator, whenever you can’t be bothered to figure a sum out yourself? Or be better behaved at the dinner than even Queen Elizabark? I will build new schools for all animals. Even cats, just as long as they bark. If you want your pet to be as edyoo educated as me, vote Basil, the best of them all.

Yours Sincerely,

Basil Owens

Founding member of the S.O.D party

Tweets

 I got the inspiration for this story from the story called Songbirds by Nayanika Basu in the book Stay at Home! To read this story visit: https://indd.adobe.com/view/0f834b3c-c44c-439d-be0d-2fb7de5d6caf

I hope you enjoy it! 😀

Tweets

Blue Tit: Hi Robin, strange year.

Robin: Aye, the big beardie yin’s still workin frae his nest – starin at the pecking machine.

Blue Tit: Ken, it’s coz the cock o’ the walk’s telt them a’ tae stay at hame.

Robin: Whit?

Blue Tit: Whaur ye been? I’m talkin aboot their heid gaffer, the yin on the telly! Ye ken? The yin that bobs her heed feathers aboot like yin ae us!

Robin: Oh aye! D’ye ken whit I saw yisterday at nummer 12?

Blue Tit: Whit?

Robin: See the weans? The wee’est yin’s been puttin that stripey tie roon his neck and donnerin aff with his schull bag oan his back.

Blue Tit: Ah huvney seen him.

Robin: Aye, weel he gets up early and disnae come back tae the efternoon. Yer ey late tae the feeders.

Blue Tit: Tee tee! Weel his maw’s forgoat tae put maer sunfloor seed oot, so I’m no in a hurry! Wis he wearin yin o’ them daft coupen coverings?

Robin: Aye, and a fat loat o’ help it’ll dae him! He’s ey munchin oan snacks and has tae take it aff every 5 meenits! The biggest wean’s still at hame. She’s starin at the wee screen that’s ey stuck tae her haun!

Blue Tit:  Ken! And their Maw’s a bit obsessed – cleanin doorknobs and the like, ken?

Robin: But they dinnae hink o’ us dae they?!

Blue Tit: Whit ye oan aboot?

Robin: Weel, ye see her cleanin ivryhing – but huv they ever cleaned oor feeders? Naw!

Blue Tit: Fair point! But huv ye heard the lassie singin?  

Robin: Whit lassie?

Blue Tit: The fair haired yin! She’s singin aw the time noo. Nae mare rock songs – braw ballads – lovely!

Robin: Ah hink ah kin hear her.

Blue Tit: Aye, that’s her! Noo wheesht and listen!