Making Huts

A few days ago we made huts in class!
When we wrote about it, I found it hard to really challenge myself.
I found it easy to describe the nouns.
Next time I would do better similes.

When I was little, (and I still am) I used to play Marco Polo, find sea shells to paint at the beach, and do the same volcano experiment over and over again. But most of all I loved making huts. That’s why Mrs Naden's class is the best! First we got into groups of 4 but someone got a bright idea to combine 4 groups into a MEGA one! We positioned the heavy desks and chairs as they anchored down the velvety blankets, so soft it was as if I was stroking a fluffy cat. We all shook out the sheets and they were clipped together by neon pegs. Stumbling, we dumped the heavy Bibles on the desks. The blankets were draped over the spaces in the desks’ barrier, and guarded as if they were the enemies in the Medieval times, ready for battle. After about 20 minutes, the fight would begin,
“MORGAN! What are you doing?!”
“I’m just moving it!”
“WELL, MOVE IT BACK!”
“NO!”
“MRS NNNAAADDDEENN!”
“YOU’RE BEING A TATTLE TALE!”
 “WELL, YOU’RE BEING A MEANIE!”
Usually, someone would make their own little space, and someone would get really peeved. But while we weren’t arguing, trying to bite each others neck off, that is, I would lie there, with my friends, staring up at the multicoloured prayer cloths. We were all having so much fun until…
“Time to bust your huts!’” called Mrs Naden.
“NOOO!” We all screamed in horror. The dreaded time had finally come. But I kept that memory, the best day of my life, making huts.