Sitting at the back
of my mummy’s car
staring at the cone
on the shiny tar
standing all alone
in middle of the road
looking like it’s going to jump
like a little green toad
if I were a cone
I’d sit there all day
but being a famous statue
would it really make my day?
It was the year 6521, the silver and aqua blue motorbike roared at the speed of 742 mph. The wheels formed smoke as they rubbed against the futuristic, matt black plastic of the road.
The sky changed to black in seconds as suddenly, a cyborg rode across from the right straight in front of me on a maroon and green motorbike. His robotic scarlett eye stared at me, fear fled through my body. Seeing a cyborg is not a good sign. Cyborgs can control electrical items through their minds, and if you see one coming your way, you know you’re in trouble.
Without warning, the engine of my bike shuddered to a halt and then thrust me and the motorbike forward at a death defying 5000 mph. The buildings beside me were now invisible. A flashing image appeared inside my head of the scarlett eye belonging to the cyborg. It was clear to me that I no longer had control of my own bike, the cyborg was interfering. Why was he after me?
The wind blew uncomfortably in my face. I saw ahead of me a row of about 50 glowing orange cones. They blocked the width of the road. On the other side of the cones stood the cyborg. In his left hand he held a button attached to the top of the vertical handle. I feared for my life.
“Bang!” the cones exploded.
The last thing I heard was “well, well what do we have here?”
If I was a cone
I would sit there all alone
And talk to myself
And pretend I’m on the phone
But its lucky I’m not a cone
I dont like sitting all alone
It wouldn’t be fun
And i probably will melt in the beaming,hot sun.
Jack loved cones. He already had a large orange one and a small orange one, given to him by his dad, who worked for the traffic police. They were a little broken but dad knew he would love them anyway. Also he had a yellow triangular one with a No Parking sign on it, he had a black and white one which dad’s friend, the funeral director, had given to him and he had a green and white cone given to him by mum’s friend, Juliette, the doctor’s wife. But the pride and joy of his grand collection, the rarely seen blue cone that the Highway Agency used to warn lorries of over head obstructions such as bridges and wires.
Soon it was going to be Jack’s birthday. He was going to be seven years old. Mum and dad kept nagging him about what he wanted for his birthday and he continuously told them his dream present: The intelligent cone that screamed when moved. But mum and dad were adamant in their refusal.
“We can’t afford it. It will need to be shipped over from America.”
Jack felt downhearted, but he understood.
It was the day of Jack’s birthday. He leapt out of bed, zipped zealously down the stairs two at a time and galloped into the living room. Mum and dad handed him a Wonka bar and wished him “Happy Birthday.” Jack’s heart fell. There were no cone shaped parcels.
There was a knock at the door. He slowly opened it. There stood his gran, arms full with a massive cardboard box. Jack ripped it open. Inside was the cone of his dreams: The intelligent cone!
All Jack could do was stare at his gran, mouth hanging open.
Early one Monday morning, a young woman called Claire was wearing a red blazer, white blouse, red trousers and shiny red shoes because she was going to a very important job interview to become a successful lawyer. Claire was very nervous because she was a very shy person, so shy that at one of her job interviews, she didn’t even say a word. She just stood there as if she could not do anything.
When Claire had finished getting ready she climbed into her red Ford Fiesta (red was Claire’s favourite colour) and headed to were the job interview was held. When Claire got to a red light, a gang of dangerous looking men walked to Claire’s car. They signalled to her to wind down her window. When she did, the men got out their pistols and whispered to her that she should give them all of her money.
All of a sudden, the light turned green and Claire swiftly wound up her window and drove as quickly as her car could go. The men were chasing her. When Claire took a right turn she realised that there were cones in front of here. She could not move because the gang of men were right behind her. How will Claire save herself and make it in time for her interview?…….
Cones are bright,
They give you light.
Cones are like stones,
They have no bones.
Cones are round,
But that’s not the bit that goes on the ground.
Cones are Big,
Bigger than a twig.
Cones are still,
They don’t have names like Jim, Bob and Bill
Cones look a bit like an ice cream cone,
But much bigger than a microphone.
Cones are for sectioning out roads,
But you would need loads and loads.
Cones are orange with silver strips,
But when I say orange I mean without pips.
Cones are large and round,
But whatever their size, cones belong on the ground.
The traffic cones were placed across the road and all cars ( regardless who is in the car ) wishing to go through. Trafalgar square would have to go through a different route to get to their destination. After two days of standing the cones were depressed, nobody had come to visit them. One day Elsie saw the cones.She loved cones;She loved every bit about them: Ice cream cones ,traffic cones, 3 dimensional drawings of cones.She played with the cones all day. The cones learnt that if you wait patiently what you want will always come your way.
I am orange with shiny stripes.
What am I?
I show people where there is danger.
What am I?
I am mainly used at road works.
What am I?
If I was edible, people would turn me upside-down and put ice-cream on me.
What am I?
People also put small lights on my point to show cars without lights where I am.
What am I?
I’ll tell you what I am, I’m a multipurpose cone.
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