Sunday, 12 November 2017

8..9..10..

8..9..10..

We run. 8.9.10. Pita pata pita pata, footsteps run past. A sigh of relief is announced out my mouth. 

 I hear a whisper...shhhh Emma and Ruby peering out from the bush. 
Another shhh is released as I rustle looking out out from the leaves. 

Light peaks through the hole  that's making the entrance in. 
As time went on I’m digged myself in the dirt, distracting myself from the aroma of next door. 
No sound but wind. We creep out with a strange thought walking in our heads. 

We see everyone sitting down at the front of the field. 8.9.10 here we come. Hello, goodbye it's the end of the day and all is over with us winning the game.

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