The Writers’ Club meets every second Thursday, at first break, in the library.
This term we have been co-constructing a story that simply began with a
stimulus picture showing a message in a bottle, sitting on the sand. We will
publish the next exciting instalment of our story in the newsletter each
fortnight. Please enjoy what the Writers’ Club have written so far, in our yet,
untitled masterpiece.
The bottle sat, partly buried, in the soggy, salty sand. Crystal clear glass
protected the old paper, inside the bottle, that was loosely tied with a
twisted brown string. An old brown cork fitted snugly in the bottle and had
kept safe the message for many years.
Thousands of years earlier......
Nautilus was once a happy place beneath the dark sea, in the depths of the
ocean until everything fell apart. Queen Oceana, a fair and beautiful ruler,
had always kept Nautilus, and its people, safe from the sinister world
above. A crystal conch shell sat atop the magical, gold sceptre that kept the
essence, and magic, of Nautilus alive. So long as Queen Oceana controlled
the sceptre Nautilus would continue to be protected by its invisible shield.
But.... there was someone else who wanted to control the kingdom.
Someone who had been banished many years earlier for attempting to
kidnap Queen Oceana’s precious only child, Marina.
Meanwhile at Calypso’s lair...
Calypso was fuming. She still remembered when she had to tried kidnap
Marina. Within her tight grasp she clutched onto Marina as the child
squirmed and flailed attempting to escape the evil sea witch. Calypso had
been so close to achieving her victory until the guards of Nautilus rallied
together to form a barricade. With guards surrounding her, Calypso had no
choice but to release the poor child, Marina, from her evil grasp.
She turned and fled, yelling, “I’LL BE BACK! YOU CAN’T KEEP HER SAFE
FOREVER!!”
The time had come for her to try again. Calypso sat in her dreary lair. Her
loyal goblin, Cousteau, handed Calypso her magical mirror. Dead coral,
wrapped in seaweed, encased the mirror’s rounded, stained sea glass. A
purple, ghostly glow lit up Calypso’s face, as she held the mirror and stared
into its eerie depths.
“Mirror mirror, in my hand,
Answer my questions, I demand.
It’s time for me to make a stand.
Tell me how to steal the sceptre
I need to have a great idea.”
The purple haze on the mirror faded to black and the mirror began to
reveal the answer. At first the words were blurred, but slowly they came
into focus.
Calypso’s face stared into the mirror and her face began to contort wildly
until, finally, she blurted, “Slimy, slithering sea snakes. That’s it! I know just
what I need to do!’
