G+drafting

"ERIC!"

The heatstroke grass lay dead-like in the blazing hot sun. Clusters of half tanned people were scattered all over the place, half naked, as if god had dropped a gathering of brown crispy leaves. The atmosphere felt exhausting and tiresome it felt as if the gloomy heatwave would never stop. A smell of burning metal came from the un-environmental power stations that hogged most of the towns space. The fine air was spotless except for the occasional British Airways plane.

"Dad," gasped Eric, breathing quickly," i'm so sorry, I-I-I didn't mean to k-k-kill him."

Dad's nostrils flared getting bigger and bigger as he edged closer to Eric's horrified face:" What on earth were you thinking?"

"It's not my fault he died he's eighty, and he wasn't cycling on the cycling path," blurted Eric, biting his thin, pink lips.

Plus, he didn't even ring his bell, how would I know, I was playing blind catch with Justin, i didn't know it would hit him thought Eric.

Dad led him over to a mossy, green bench: " Have I ever told you about one of your ancestors, Crogan Junichi?"