marie’s walk to school

For my creative writing homework last week, I had to write about fellow writer Marie’s childhood walk to school. To aid my piece, Marie drew a map of her walk, adding street names, people’s names, houses and shops, and I did the same for her. We weren’t allowed to elaborate or make up anything, and could only go on what we’d been told.

Here’s what I came up with:

Every morning, the first thing I see when I leave my house, is the bright green letter box right outside the door. It belongs to the Post Office that my family run and everyone who sees it can’t help but fall in love with its emerald glow. That letter box has been there my whole life, which is nearly 8 years. I really hope it never gets taken away, as it’s become a bit of a talking point in our village. Luckily, my dad would never let that happen.

Even though it’s only up the road, my mum walks with me to school, and I always make sure we’ve got enough time to cross the street and look at the pond before we set off. Actually, it’s more like a lake, but I prefer to call it a pond, and when the sun is shining, like it is today, the water looks like it’s filled with glitter. There’s an old sign in front of the pond that says ‘Twinning Town’, meaning that our little village is linked with a place called Brittany, which is all the way over in France.

As we begin our walk, mum and I make our way past the posh gourmet restaurant run by the Caddens, which serves up fancy food for adults. Then we come to the Towers pub on the opposite corner. It’s a big old tavern with a huge black door and bright red surrounds, and this is where my best friend lives with her family. They’ve got a pet poodle called Herbie and I can hear him barking now as we approach.  

Next, we pass the Stables, which belong to the McBride family. They regularly have horse shows here, and sometimes my family and I go and watch them at weekends. Every now and then they have a famous show jumper competing, like Eddie Macken, who’s really well known here in Ireland.

After that, it’s only a few more minutes before we reach my destination, which is a grand old stone building, called Quay School. It’s very appropriately named actually, as just up the road is the pretty harbour, where there’s a boat club overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. There are always several white yachts lining the quayside, and what seems like a hundred low-flying seagulls, all on the look out for scraps of food from passers-by. Even though my school is slightly before the harbour, you can still see the tips of the yachts and hear the squawking birds from its entrance.

As I skip up to the school doors, the registration bell is already sounding, so I wave goodbye to mum and quickly join my classmates as we get in line. At the moment, there are too many pupils in the school, so they’ve had to bring in a couple of pre-fab classrooms that sit outside on the grounds. My friends and I love it when our lessons are in them as it feels like more of an adventure than when we are being taught in the main building. As I make my way inside, I keep my fingers tightly crossed, hoping that some of today’s lessons will be out there. Then my mind wanders and I soon start daydreaming about playtime.


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