A short story about what happened to the British Summer.
It was a lovely sunny day. Birds were flying around twittering to each other. People were all enjoying themselves, playing games and sunbathing at the beach. Everyone was happy.
But there was a little boy, a little, greedy boy called Archibald. Archibald was a miserable little so and so, and was jealous of everyone’s happiness.
â€œWhy is everyone else so happy?â€ he moaned. â€œWhy can’t they be wretched and woeful like me?â€
So that night, as the sun went down and people had their backs turned, he rowed his little boat across the sea to the horizon and stole the sun (and it’s hat).
The next morning everyone woke up ready for another exciting day, swimming and making sandcastles. But something was different, something was wrong. Where once the sun had beamed, big black clouds had formed. It had begun to rain.
The smiles on everone’s faces soon disappeared.
â€œHahaha!â€ laughed Archibald. â€œNow everyone’s as grumpy as me!â€
Archibald hid the sun in a secret place, and no-one ever saw it again.
Archibald got hit by a truck. Which served him right.Â
Well, that’s my theory. What’s yours???