As part of this website's mission is to provide resources that can be used in education, it seemed appropriate that we should endeavour to support the village school, its pupils and all those parents faced with home-schooling their children throughout the corona virus crisis. In conjunction with the village magazine we launched two competitions, a DRABBLE competition and a PICTURE competition. Here are the DRABBLES we received.
1 Grandad placed a small box in Bella’s hand. Inside, lay an ancient set of teeth. She felt dizzy.
Suddenly, her house was gone and she was standing in an orchard. She heard a clatter of hooves and a cloud of dust rose in the distance. Bella ran up the track to Cross Hill and hid behind a stone plinth. Roundheads, on horseback, stopped by the great oak tree and their leader dismounted. “Oliver Cromwell,” she whispered, watching his brown teeth bite into an apple.
Immediately, the vision faded. She returned to 2020. “These teeth have been here before!” she exclaimed.
2a Now that the coronavirus had shut down the whole country, I decided to take that short walk I was allowed. As I passed the church, I heard the most beautiful music coming through the open door. I took a risk and went inside to listen and maybe talk to the organist from a safe distance. It was then that I remembered that the organ was out of order and waiting to be repaired. When I got closer I saw that on the organist's stool a tape recorder was playing, and in a nearby pew, a small child was knelt praying.
2b She found the mirror at a car-boot sale. It was full-length, gold-framed,
and had strange symbols all around its edges. The old lady selling it told her,
“This magic mirror is just what a pretty girl like you wants, dearie! It will
make you look even prettier! You wait and see!”
Back home in her bedroom, the girl carefully unwrapped the mirror, and stood in front of it for the first time, waiting for the magic the old woman had promised her. Then she screamed. Standing in front of her was the wizened old woman from the car-boot sale, smiling!
2c Since the government lock-down, the streets were silent, with only the occasional sound of footsteps as someone went on their urgent mission. At the windows, the sad faces of the children gazed out. One little girl turned to her mummy and said,” I know we have to stay indoors Mummy, but won't it be nice when we can go and play in the park, like we used to?” When she turned back to the window, she saw her own teddy had jumped out of the open window and joined a long line of children's toys, marching off towards the Park!
3a At two in the morning he was woken from his slumbers by a loud crashing noise. His heart racing, he emerged from under the covers, picked up the large poker that he kept under the bed and made his way down the stairs. A metallic tapping drew him towards the front door. The sound of something sharp scraping metal quickly followed. Then, a muffled curse. He recognised the sound of his son, drunk again, sliding down to the ground, having failed to put his key in the lock. “Bang goes another flower pot and if he’s scratched that door, I’ll…”
3b The little girl dropped a pound coin into the slot and pulled the handle. The wheels spun. The first wheel stopped and showed a cherry, the second did the same as did the last. Lights flashed, alarms screamed as gold coins spilled from the slot, hundreds of them overflowing the tray and spilling to the floor. The little girl looked on in puzzlement. Then her face creased in disappointment and tears began to flow. “What’s the matter, little girl?” asked the security guard. She raised her face to the man and said through her sobs, “I only wanted an orange.”
3c It had been a wild party in the end, once the alcohol got flowing but he never expected it to end the way that it did. The clean up the following morning was always a big job. He’d started off with sugar soap, then two coats of stain blocker, just to be sure. These were followed by a coat of primer and then one of undercoat. Finally, after much deliberation, a coat of eggshell gloss. It still wasn’t enough. Another coat of gloss and then another. Just how many coats of paint would it take to hide those blood stains?
4 Today, he's bright. Apart from vague concerns over lost
“Show Grandad what Father Christmas brought”, I say.
My boys chat excitedly about a tractor book.
“We had one like this when I was your age!”, Dad exclaims, suddenly animated, spotting a ‘three-wheeler’. It was really a four-wheeler, he explains, but the two front wheels moved together on a single stub.
“What are those?” points my four-year-old, displaying dual talents of sweet-detection and hint-dropping.
“Are they allowed one, Mum?” Dad asks, remembering he’ll be chastised for spoiling appetites.
“ONE.” I look stern.
He sneaks them another. Defiant to the last.
By Kelly with illustrations by her children.