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Writer's pictureclaresmile

Day 8

Yesterday my larger than life friend sent me on a mission in London. I had to find the golden masks.


He gave me directions so I headed off down Diagon Alley peering into shop windows on the way.


Could it be here? Broomstick, owl, wands... no, not here.


Could it be here? Golden snitch, weapons and a mask! Yes - but not a golden one. On I trotted.


Aha! Found it! Golden masks - but first I needed to find a way in.


Luckily that bespectaled schoolboy wizard #HarryPotter had given me a wand, so I could open the doors to the Chamber of Golden Masks.


Trying to distract me from my mission was a collection of muggles talking about films and scripts. As if I'd fall for that one! But, I stayed for an hour or two. Three ten minute scenes from writers for children and teens were acted out skillfully, in a way that brought the stories to life. But no time to dawdle, I waited until everyone had left the theatre and then crept down some stairs that had just appeared in the floor in front of my Warner Brothers seat.


Down, down, down I went. Fearlessly, yet with a strange lightness of step. It must have been the carpet. And there it was!

Finally the golden mask was mine, mine, mine.

And then I woke up and it was all a dream and I was stuck on the 9.22 from Victoria somewhere between East Croydon and Gatwick...



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