The BFG
Who could sleep?
The wind was roaring and the rain absolutely tipping down.
There was nothing for it, being Wednesday.
We must go out for a walk.
And there at Princetown waiting for us was a large, strangely familiar figure.
We just managed to jam him in the back of the car.
But his legs got so tangled up he could hardly get out at all.
But, off we tramped.
Through the wind and rain - not able to see anything.
We did not see Bonehill Rocks.
We did not see Chinkwell Tor.
We did not see Honeybag Tor.
We did not see the mud we fell into.
But on he trudged and on we trailed behind.
And then, just as he had promised.
Over a wall.
Was his chair.
Yes, a really HUGE chair.
So high we could not see to the top.
But would he stop, NO.
On past Jays Grave.
Back through the wind and rain.
Past the squashed frogs.
Jam him back in the car.
To the New Old Inn and sit at a huge table drinking what could have been frobscottle.
Jam him back in the car again.
And, leave him back in the wastes of Princetown.