The Castle


The castle has been carefully constructed, built to last. A monument and reminder to all who have dismissed this new king. The intense concentration on the young boys face shows just what he is capable of. Go way they told him, leave us be, you're of no use, you only get in the way. And so he went and now he waits with his troops, patient and unconcerned that they may all meet an untimely death.

But it's all too late, the attack is planned, the sun beats down and the sound of the ocean waves lapping the shores where the trenches have been dug are the only future he can contemplate right now.

But he should have been more vigilante, not so trusting, kept lookout, a true soldier would have been prepared, but then again he's only a boy, not really a man of war.

For all its majesty the castle was suddenly and violently crushed. The boy looked up, despair replacing engrossment. He had been betrayed by Owen the mighty, his own brother who until that moment had sat sulking, moody and dripping in ice-lolly, so jealous at his little brothers attempts to create such a magnificent sand castle, huh, that will teach him he thought.