Playing with POV

The workout is as spectacular as always. Such talent and imagination – a treat to read the various pieces every morning. If you have any desire at all, to write something, I can’t recommend this workout highly enough. It’s like resisting the gym and then when you finally force yourself to go, you find that it’s pretty cool. Your body remembers muscles it had long forgotten and as they come to life, you realize that you are not past it at all.  So, this is gym for the brain and what a workout it is. Pathways open up and words you thought you’d forgotten, arrive in your head to strengthen your scene. Some scenes take off and others not so much, but that’s all a part of the workout. I dare you to try it !

A child’s point of view is pretty challenging, but here’s my attempt…

Foggy legs swam above Claire.


Bodies bumped her as she fell.

“I want mummy.”

She rubbed her eyes with her fists. “Where’s  mummy?” Her voice stumbled and she looked at the strangers. A lady in a roses dress was sleeping with her eyes open. The boy in the pushchair screamed and screamed. She covered her ears. He was holding his leg and blood squirted out. Lots of people were running and running. Police cars were making scary sounds. She called the brown puppy but he wouldn’t come, because he was crying too much. The sun was behind the big cloud. A daisy skirt brushed her face. That’s mummy’s. She grasped at it, to pull herself up. “Not mummy,” she said to the woman as she backed away, but the daddy lunged at her. “Let me go.” She shook her head at him. “Mummy said no strangers.”

He lifted her up onto his shoulders and her head rested in his neck. A blue policeman smashed his stick into a grandpa.

“Not hurt him!” The policeman turned, baton still raised. “Please not hurt him.” She could taste her snot. Mummy was running. Her face was smudgy. She was screaming,“Claire!” She bounced on the shoulders. “I’m here mummy.” She did their secret wave. Mummy would come then. Clive was limping towards them too. She didn’t want him to be first. “Hurry up, mummy,” she whispered into the kind daddy’s neck. He wasn’t really a stranger. He’d been magicked into a friend.


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