Many years ago, there lived a man called Neil Damiens. He was a rich man, and he lived in the Damiens’ bungalow on Heather street. He lived with his wife and two children. He was the owner of a sugarcane plantation. One day, while he was working in the plantation, a fire broke out and many people died. Neil was one of them.
“One day”, he started and sipped a little water, “I was unable to find the requisite amount of wood and lingered on longer than I usually do. It was only after sun down that I started for the journey back home. On the way I felt very hungry and could not go on further. I left the donkeys with the wood piles and went up a tree in search of fruits. There were none but I decided to rest for a while as I was feeling very tired. I just sat there staring into the branches and after a while I saw a very ripe and red round fruit
Dingy went to a bonfire with his parents. They had loads of fun and they came back home late in the night. Everybody had to quickly sleep off as the next day was the festival of colours- Holi.
Dingy and his friends were stooped on a book when Lia rushed in with the big news, “Darling lost and found", she screamed.
Dingy rushed into the room and nearly bumped with the table. Nobody noticed him as everybody was busy playing with MAGNETS.
Several years ago there lived a ghost. Well let us say there used to be a ghost as ghosts are not supposed to live. He didn’t have a name but he had a lot of friends, all of whom were living. To begin with there was Barly the kid, Meril the lamb, Su the infant, Kit the fawn and Rig the boy. These were his core group of friends and then there were many more.