Goal- to do a less dark story.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Who orders a burger with nothing in it? Why can’t they just go home and do it themselves? I’m new here, why do this to me? He sits there, watching me like a hawk. It’s kind of creepy, is this meant to be some sort of prank? He slowly stands up, wandering over to me, and I wave my hand as a signal for him to come over. He takes off his hoodie, and stops. I shudder as he holds out his hands. Is he even human? Nothing. Nothing at all. Who has hands with no body?
He looked across the wide fields, his face glowing orange in the sunlight. The view was stunning. There was nothing quite like it. Sometimes he wished he had a camera in his mind, to take a picture of all of the incredible sights he saw. He thought of everything he had done today, and a memory crossed his mind. The crocodile. Oh how he hated it. He loathed it with passion. Within his mind, more and more thoughts came. None of them were good, and all of his joy collapsed into a heap. Who would think that one thing could ruin your whole day. Life just wasn’t fair sometimes.
Questions – Blue
Summary- This btn was about how we can connect from different countries with just a pen, paper and a glass bottle.
Questions- How long does it normally take for a message to go across? Doesn’t the bottle break from the rocks?
Recalls – We can connect from different countries with this, Theo Frastis was the first person to send a message in a bottle, the oldest message in a bottle was found on a German beach.
Insights- We can harm marine life by sending a message in a bottle.
Summary- This BTN was about how we need to choose more carefully about how much we buy and if it is sustainable.
Questions- How can we tell if our clothes are good quality? Are some particular fabrics better than others?
Insights- We need to be more careful about what we buy.
Recalls- Australia is the second biggest consumer of fabric in the world.
Each Australian buys an average of 27 kilos of clothes every year.
85% of unwanted clothing ends up in the rubbish.
Goal- to write a rhyming poem.
The slime dripped through my hands, cold and greasy. My father looked at me, this wouldn’t be easy. He looked at me with a smile, the one i haven’t seen in a while. The last few years have been hard for him, 6 recorded deaths and hope so slim, I took one last look at the world around me, it was then I realised how bad this could be.
Then I stumbled, as i mumbled “this is it”, as I stopped for a bit.
The slime dripped down and I began to drown.