I squeezed my mum's hand as I tip-toed in the pitch black tunnel. Dribble, dribble, drop, went the prickly, stony ceiling spikes. A rock was shaped like a puppy dogs cuddly face. I stretched my tiny legs into a cold canoe and then I saw glow worms above me and my mother. A man reached the oars and I snuggled my brave mummy until I spotted light that washed my shivers away.
By Josie
No comments:
Post a Comment
We love comments! Please leave your name so we know who you are. We check all our comments on 'Comment Friday'!