Page 230 - DAIS Insignia 2020-21

Un match de football

IX J'adore le football. Jeudi dernier, c'était un match entre Chelsea (mon équipe favori) et
Atlético Madrid (une autre bonne équipe) dans la Ligue des champions. C'était le
deuxième match qui a été joué à Londres. J'ai regardé ce match à la télé avec mon ami qui
aime beaucoup l'équipe de Madrid. Chelsea a gagné le match dernier par un but donc
A l'équipe de Madrid devait marquer un minimum d'un but pour avoir la chance de
progresser.

L'arbitre a sifflé et le match a commencé. D'abord, les deux équipes n'ont pas pu marquer
un but. Quelquefois le gardien de but a fait une sauvegarde et quelquefois Timo Werner a
raté le but. C'était très ennuyeux jusqu'à la trente-quatrième minute quand Chelsea a
Anya Sharma
marqué un but. Bien que le gardien de Madrid soit l'un des meilleurs au monde, il n'a pas
eu la chance de sauver le but. Après que les attaquants de Madrid n'ont pas joué très bien
et la défense de Chelsea a joué
bien donc l'équipe de Madrid
n'a pas marqué un but. À la
dernière minute du match, un
remplaçant de Chelsea a
marqué un but. En fait, c'a été
la première touche du jouer du
Mon Livre Préféré match et Chelsea a gagné le
match par deux et le match du
J'adore lire! L'humour, le suspense et les personnages intéressants ouvrent un monde tout nouveau
d'imagination. J'ai lu de nombreux livres comme le journal d'Anne Frank, les livre d'Asterix, etc, mais, mon livre match par trois buts.
preféré est la série de 'Harry Potter' par J. K. Rowling. À mon avis, ce résultat était
attendu, mais le match était
J'aime tout. L'intrigue, les personnages, le début et aussi la fin. Quand j'ai commencé à lire le premier livre, je ne
a m u s a n t à r e g a r d e r .
pouvais pas le laisser avant de l'avoir fini. À mon avis, le huitième livre n'est pas très bon mais les sept premiers
Cependant, il n'y avait pas des
livres sont incroyables.
fans dans le stade à cause du
Harry Potter se déroule à Londres. Le premier livre s'appelle 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'. Il s'agit confinement donc l'ambiance Arya Gupta
d'un garçon de onze ans nommé Harry. Il est orphelin. Harry et ses amis qui s'appellent Ron et Hermione qui vont à une école de magie qui s'appelle n'est pas la même, mais le
Hogwarts. Harry, Ron et Hermione vivent de nombreuses aventures ensemble. Ils combattent le cruel sorcier qui s'appelle Voldemort. match était bien, je me suis
J'adore la série Harry Potter parce que il y a du suspense, de l'émotion, de l'aventure et de l'humour. Les aventures de Harry et de ses amis m'ont appris amusé et Chelsea a progressé.
beaucoup de choses. Le livre m'a appris l'importance de l'amitié et du courage. C'est mon livre préféré! Allez Chelsea !

Rhea Shah Arnav Shah
Naviya Gupta
Stormbreaker Island The wind blows on
The sun hovered briefly at the horizon, before it rose. At once, the clouds rolled A wind begins to blow. It is born as a wispy breeze, and soon grows to a bolder, stronger
in- first red, then mauve, then light green as if all the colours in the world were gale. It travels across lands, picking up scents and sights and textures and stories.
being released from a vast pot. A lone deer galloped across the grassland, its own
Finally, it descends upon a kingdom nestled in the midst of a ring of mountains, each peak
colour lost in the magnificent chaos behind it. Rain hung waiting. There was going
hidden by a wispy rotunda of clouds which hang in the rich, silky blue of the sky. The roots
to be a storm, yet nobody stirred till noon. A single plane circled the island twice of the mountains are peppered with spindly pine trees, forming a sparse forest on the snow Shreya Ranganathan
and the party began.
covered ground. A weak frost hangs from the leaves and the earthy smell of pine hovers in the air. A lone woodcutter cuts through a maze of trees,
Stormbreaker island had been merrymaking every day since the dark, stormy night leaving a trail of shallow footprints and whistling to himself. An axe is slung over his shoulder and he is clothed in warm leather and sheepskin, safe
when a lone stranger appeared at the island. The man was about six feet tall. He from the icy bite of the cold. The breeze dances at the feet of the woodcutter, in rhythm to the high, sweet tune he whistles. The breeze blows from the
had long and shabby hair flowing behind him. A gruesome scar ran down his mountains towards a sleepy village, which is blanketed by a thin coating of frost. At the center of the village stands a fountain made of stone, a steady
cheek. His eyes resembled those of a man who had seen far too much and needed jet of water is spouted from a hole in the center and bathes the stone figure of a mermaid which sits at its midst. A gloomy peddler idles nearby, tossing
a break from the rest of the world. He wore a ragged t-shirt that was once worth pebbles into the serene waters of the fountain, his hat precariously resting at an angle on his matted hair and a ratty coat enveloping his slight figure.
much more than anyone on the island could afford. His shorts and shoes were The wind picks his hat up off his head flinging it a few feet away, and then mischievously circles the peddler, bringing a pink tinge to his cheeks and a
twinkle to his eyes, and a laugh to the lips of the one who had not laughed for days. It plays around with the peddler for a while, tickling his skin and
completely mismatched. But, worst of all – he was an outsider - the first one to ever
find his way to Stormbreaker island and no one knew what was to be done. The filling his heart with mirth as it circles him.
man brought a whole new era to the island, and it flourished like never before. Finally, with a final playful gust, it bids the young man adieu, and reducing to a breeze once again, it snakes through the tiny cottages which litter the
There were skyscrapers, and nuclear weapons to protect the island. Everything was village. It seeps through the nooks and crannies of the closely built rooftops, circling the tiny chimneys and seeping through windows. From the slightly
automated and now that no one had any work to do, parties were introduced. ajar frosted window of a large cottage comes the rich and slightly spicy scent of pumpkin and ginger. The wind circles the plump figure with snowy hair
who stands inside. As she stirs a concoction in a large blackened vessel, the sides of her eyes crinkle, and she laughs along with the children who hover
Parties were simply a culture now - a tradition on Stormbreaker island. There would
at her skirts. The wind takes some of the sweet scent with it, weaving it into itself, taking a piece of the scene with it. It quietly exits through the
be parties organised on ginormous scales. All the energy required for the parties
chimney, its presence unfelt by the inhabitants of the cottage, except for the slight chill that has seeped into the bones of the children.
was harnessed from the storms that occurred, almost daily. The inhabitants now,
rather than of hiding in fear, used a complex mechanism to harness energy for their The wind blows on, stopping occasionally to make its presence felt; flinging away the hats of passers by, tinkling the wind chimes which hang at the
entrance of a fortune teller's tent, jingling the bell of the little candy store owned by a smiling old man and bringing a little bit of life and laughter to the
rejoicings.
lives of all those who inhabit this little town.
The adults danced on the beach while the elderly enjoyed watching children play.
Trisha Karmakar It then heads back towards the forest, and it grows stronger, colder. It circles a red fox, with golden eyes, making its fur bristle,
Despite his contribution to the island, nobody knew who the man was. Hundreds
its ears stand upright. It carries the faint song of the bluebirds who wish for the ice to thaw. It shoots to the sky, above even the
of years ago, the island had welcomed an outsider, an old man – 'The creator of islands'. For it was he who had split the world with the towering trees and takes in the last colors of the Sun as it sets above the snow. The sky has begun to darken now.
help of a cyclomatic bomb, to save his family. He now sat there, slowly smoking his cigar and staring into the abyss. He felt no sense of
Slowly, it begins to blow once again, this time rich with life and stories and the essence of people. Then blowing, forever
belonging or celebration in the revelry that surrounded him. His eyes still resembled a man who had seen far too much and needed a
blowing, it fades into the night.
break from the rest of the world. A single tear ran down his wrinkled cheeks. This man, the creator of the islands, had lost his son.
Tanay Pachisia 225 Naviya Gupta 226