It was a dark, cold night, the moon glistening on the lake. Andrew was slipping across the field, almost invisible to the eye. He was wearing a black cloak, to blend into the darkness. He slipped through the field over to his parents’ house. He had snuck out to practice his swordsmanship. Even though it was a wooden sword, he was a natural at sword fighting. He had developed his own style over the past few months. He was still perfecting his best combo of moves, a strike of numerous overhand and backhand cuts. Those were followed by a thrust, roll and a final overhand blow.
He climbed up the tree near his window to get to his room. Then he slipped into his covers and fell asleep. The next morning he woke to his brother jumping on top of him. He was yelling, “COME ON! GET UP! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!”
He sleepily replied, “Come on, just a few more minutes, besides, doesn’t school start at 8:00 on Sundays?”
“It’s Monday you goofball! Dad’s waiting outside!” his brother replied..
Andrew got up, put on his clothes, and went to the car. He thought school was so boring; it would be more interesting if they had swordsmanship. Even though medieval times had passed, swords had fascinated him so much. As he got to school, he talked to his friends. Then the day passed by, as boring as ever, he had been doodling most of the classes. The one thing that caught his attention was a medieval festival coming up. He saw that there was sword fighting, horseback riding, and many other interesting things. The sword fighting said that if you beat one of the instructors, you got a lesson on swordsmanship. Andrew knew he wasn’t going to miss that..
By Stuart Murray (Grade 6)