The footsteps got louder

James has a dual story – so you’ll see that the second one has a sightly different scenario:

Ben raised his head and shook his dirt all over the lounge. He heard his master coming, so he jumped off the sofa and looked for a place to hide. Behind the lounge? No, too small. Under the pillows? Too obvious. He started to look for a way out, moving his head left to right, shaking his mound of hair everywhere, in the process.
The footsteps got louder. He searched more franticly. The only other door out, besides the main one, was the old back door, but that was impossible to open for some paint had stuck the door shut when his master and the family had painted the door. The footsteps got louder, louder still. Ben tried to nudge the door open but he realized that it was no use. Then he saw it: the perfect hiding spot!

Footsteps were outside the door. He slid into the spot, just in time to see the door open and hear his master growl with annoyance, but it didn’t matter. He was safe where he was. Thanks to his quick thinking, he had found his way into a tower of wool or some other soft material, and then he heard it: the noise that all dogs hate. He turned around to see it: “meaow”.

Now, Ben is an old man and it’s not funny any more. Rewrite – change as little as possible to capture the new scenario.

Ben raised his head and heard footsteps. He heard his master coming. He shuddered in the bed, looked at the clock —two hours later than it should be; he had overslept. His heart thumped and he leapt to his feet. He looked from left to right, shaking his matted hair in confusion.

The footsteps got louder. The only other door out, besides the main one, was the old back door, but that was always chained. The footsteps got louder, louder still. Ben tried to nudge the door open, pushed his thin old shoulder into the wood, but he realized that it was no use. Then he saw it: the perfect hiding spot! He slid open the trapdoor as quietly as possible. Just as he closed it the other door opened and he heard a roar of anger escape the outraged mouth.

The cold cellar was empty, abandoned long ago. But his day was about to get even better, for when he leaned against the cobblestone wall, it moved. Ben realised he had just opened a secret passageway and on the other side was: daylight. He would never come back. There will be no more torture and punishment for this old soul, he thought. He walked painfully to freedom.

Rainbow and Nightbomb

Rainbow and Nightbomb.

One day Mr Nightbomb woke up with a strange feeling. When he went outside he saw the birdcage door open and his budgerigar Rainbow disappeared. He looked everywhere in his house but he had no luck. Weeks passed and still he could not find Rainbow. Then one morning he woke up hearing lots of loud noises, high pitched, repeated rapidly, chirping sort of noises. Wearing his pink polka dot pajamas he waddled outside into the cool brisk morning and found thousands of budgerigars on his trees in the back yard. Eventually Rainbow flew to Mr Nightbomb and chirped at him for a little while and jumped onto his shoulder and rubbed gently against his unshaved cheek. Then for the rest of Mr NIghtbomb’s life, he lived with thousands of little parrots in his back yard.

Eddie who will be eleven this year.