— Next —
On a beautiful summer day, the clean fresh air, entwined with the fragrances of the surrounding woodland, sent a refreshing aroma dancing on the breeze over the Yorkshire countryside.
Peter grimaced along with his friends as the music started. It was the same every year, so they knew what to expect.
“What time’s Grandpa Church coming?” he asked with desperation as the vocalist sang.
“Soon Peter,” said Eve, his mother, who chuckled as a bad rendition of an old classic belted through the speakers.
Peter leant over the table and whispered to another boy, “Ryan, it’s great to see you… But can you shut your Grandpa up.” he chuckled.
“Shut up you dopey old twonk,” shouted an elderly woman who appeared from a portal and joined the party of children sat around a large wooden table.
