Sleeping in the hall
Torches are flickering on and off. Hand shapes being projected to the roof using flashing torches. People dancing their unique torches.
I lazily laid down on my cozy sleeping bag as I heard Mrs Dowden muttering the words of the exciting book. My pillow that was almost crumpled from all my tossing and turning. The hard, dented floor bugging me as it made the bottom of my warm sleeping bag hard as a rock.
In front of me...
Was the old grey cupboards packed with mystery. The adults slowly walking past me as I snuggled up into my sleeping bag. The small tables that were used to serve the delicious breakfast.
Were the thousands of rows of tired campers snoring as loudly as a horde of angry boars. Miss J's humongous voice echoing through the hall as the lights flashed and went off with a click. Mrs.Poole kept turning on her bright torch, as she walked towards a noisy row.