Mr. Jones from Manor farm. locked the hen-houses. Drunk. he forgot the pop-holes . Side to side light danced. Coming of his lantern. he lurched forward. Crossing the yard and kicking of his boots. His shoes lay at the back door. From the scullery he went to a barrel. Quickly retrieved a beer. mrs Jones was snoring. He crept into his room silently.
Stay still. The words keep repeating in my head. I see my dad in the blurry water searching for my eyes. Swimming with ease the shark surrounds my head. Think. I check my gadge and i see my air decreasing slowly. Breath slowly. i know that if i want to live i must preserve my air. But my heart is pounding in my chest. Just inches away the shark swerves his tail. Relief. The fish, all colours and sizes make way for the large creature to pass through. I watch it will amazement, so graceful yet so destructive. Then I remember the situation. Almost out of air, 30 metres from the surface. Panic submerges my body and my dad signals to go up.
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