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It was all a dream words illuminated

Only dreams tell such a story

The Speak Out Team are working with the creative writing group at Welland Park Academy and came up with a brief to Choose from: “Write a short story about living your dream life”; “If you could live any one day again, what day would it be?”; and “Write a postcard from your dream destination”. Here is one of our competition winners.

I appeared right next to a stony, cobbled wall. My first thoughts raced through my brain, quickly passing out of my ear as I dismissed them. My instincts told me to stay where I was. I didn’t know where I was. I fought these instincts and slowly edged round the slightly corroded wall to a courtyard with a large swimming pool with water as clear as glass. It was like something out of my own fantasy.

“Sir,”

“Yes”

“He’s finally arrived,”

I continued strolling around the courtyard as there seemed not to be anyone there. At last I came across a door that seemed to be leading to whatever was inside. I twisted the handle on the door. It opened instantly and opened like it was brand new. I entered into a long, grand hallway that looked fit for royalty.

Everything placed into this hallway was a work of art, even the carpet had been specially tailored to meet even the most wealthy, majestic person’s standards. As I continued down the corridor a richly dressed, top-hatted man and a woman wearing a gold embroidered suit approached me and asked me to follow him.

“I am your humble servant and will do what you please,” spoke the woman with a voice like angels.

I was surprised that they were my loyal servants so I asked, “If you are my servants, I must have much importance, surely?”

“You are our master, and you always will be until death dawns on us,” explained the man in a rich tone of voice.

“Allow me to take you to your room and I’ll show you around,” announced the man, “I’m Travis, your butler, by the way,”

The woman left.

Travis nudged open a varnished oak door with a solid gold handle and held the door open for me to enter.

“This is your room,” Travis stated. “Like it?”

I just stared, awe-stricken, at the room. It had paintings worth millions, silk duvets with feathers plucked from the finest swans and a beautiful, four-poster bed for the mattress that felt like you were lying on the softest clouds. The whole room was a thing of beauty and I went to lie on the bed, but, as soon as I touched the pillow with my head it all went black…

By Luke Turner

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