Descriptive Style Draft 2

We were interrupted by the very loud ringing of a school bell, the high pitched sound echoed in my ears, silence rippled amongst us as we all became still. We all set our eyes upon the large black and white plastic clock above the hall entrance, and realised our fate, the first performance of ‘Tales from Geppetto’s workshop’ was about to draw back its curtains to an audience for the first time. Our hard work, which felt like our new born baby, was about to be examined by the most honest audience participant a performer could ever have, children.

I took a very heavy long breath to calm my heart which was thumping like a bass drum, as I prepared myself in my first stone statue like position. We all waited in suspense as I could hear thee cheeky, chirpy children’s voices bellowing through the door.

Suddenly the grand doors which looked liked they had grown taller in seconds swung open with a gust of wind throwing dust in my eyes. Through the doors entered a woman surfing a wave of children’s hands of pulling and tugging innocent happy children who were all walking on their tip toes with excitement, all ready for a new day of fun learning, knowing they had a very special treat in store.

Staring with joy at our brightly coloured costumes so much that they were bumping into each other like a small car pileup. Roars of ‘wows’ and ‘oooo’s’ came from the eager children as Mark; a fellow performer, balanced on one hand up side down. This broke the imaginary divider between the performers and the audience, as it seemed each child started to ask a million and one questions all at the same time.

But before I could answer any of them the show had begin, cue music, I could feel my nerves rippling from my toes up to my head, cue actors, I swallowed a deep breath to compose myself and it was me in the beaming limelight. My eyes witnessed nearly two hundred children in a sea of red uniform staring wide eyed at me.

Without panicking my nerves I introduced my character with confidence and pride in a low strong voice, ‘Pinocchi-A’. I am a talented musical wind-up toy who is old and wise that loves to perform. I lapped up the children’s staring eyes as I told my story, ‘I was first created very slow, created without any flow, quickly made from head to toe, my joints would stop and start to go, but my secret passion and my dream, is to make my sound and to be seen, telling jokes the stage was mine, but my jaw got stuck…’ and I was joined by a fluffy, yellow and white friend my conscience in the show Jimmy chick, a magical puppet.

Each life size toy in the magical workshop told their secret story through verse and rhythm and introduced their conscience, except the newest toy that has just been freshly made. Our quests, to all find her story and conscience. We search high and low through the musical land of blowing trombones and smashing symbols, exploring the five W’s laboratory where the nutty professors have given up on all of their beautiful inventions. The beautiful wooden puppet gave encouragement, solutions and ideas to make each toy we all meet happy with joy. For this the caring puppet was granted a wish for what ever she wanted.

The show went down a treat leaving our very hungry audience wanting even more, the rippling sea of claps and beams of smiles, left me feeling that my engine of enjoyment has been refilled with the inspiration of their energy.