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Anna Williams

Alice was a girl who had no proper clothes, looked lost, had dirty red hair and lightning blue eyes. She was sitting on a broken, wooden bench in a local park. Well, you couldn’t say that it was local because she had no base, like a home, so really nothing was local.

Looking around her, she could see a murky pond, dead brown flowers and a dark sky above, and birds gloomily sitting on the branches of a giant, withered tree with no leaves covering its bare body. If the birds did sing, it was an off-tune, depressing song.

Slowly, Alice walked down the gravel path, dragging her feet behind her, a gloomy look on her face and slowly fingering all the dead flowers that stood horrifyingly still.

Alice brought her feet together; looked up, closed her eyes inhaled the bitter, salty air. As she opened her eyes, everything seemed to have colour; the flowers, the sky, and all the trees. She looked down at her stubby feet but saw black, leather, studded boots and black jeans. A pink t-shirt with a Dalmatian on, blue denim jacket and her long, smooth, auburn hair in a neat, side plait. Ahead of her were people: children playing tag, skipping, singing, cartwheeling and parents sitting on new, fixed benches, coffees in their hands, laying out picnics and taking dogs for walks.

Alice walked onward, fresh green bushes bordered the new tarmac pavement. Walking on, in thought of finding the local newsagents, she approached a big, golden cathedral, intricate designs everywhere.

Inside, there was a big choir full of beautiful women with giant smiles painted on their faces. One pointed at Alice, though not in a mean was and as if she knew her, and suddenly they all turned and waved at her, signalling for her to come over. She found herself skipping joyfully down the aisle, to go and greet them.



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