The Secret Life of a Tea Caddy
Evelyn, Year 5
I was opened, that hard metal pokey thing was being stabbed into my middle. I called it a key. Tea was carefully spooned out of me. Well, I have to admit, it isn’t bad being a tea caddy because you can listen to all the posh ladies gossip. Usually about clothes of fashion, I was locked up again and listened to the ladies talk.
Who knows how many teas they had? After a couple of hours, they finally left. I hear their pattering and then silence. Eventually, the spinning wheel spoke up. “I’ve been spun to death and I’m bored!” I told him I was feeling empty and needed refilling. More footsteps! Were they coming back again? A man entered the room! No men were ever allowed in here! He strutted over, he had short brown hair and big ears. He picked me up and ran. I tried to scream but no sound came out. We were outside the house now. He kept going. After about half an hour we entered a dark, damp, grimy house. He prised me open with a stiff iron thing and took tea out. I was scared. What would the lady think when she saw I was gone? He filled me with a dirty clump of mud and threw me out.
I am still there today. Rotting in a dump.