Writer's note:
All originality goes to
Sydney Newman
C. E. Webber
Donald Wilson
(creators of Doctor Who)

<1> Don't Blink
Mark jumped over the old, rusty gates. Autumn leaves were fluttering like moths on a stick. He did not bother adjusting his jumper, and continued walking down the path way under the star-less night.
The door creaked when he turned the knob. Mark took out his camera and searched for the light switch on the wall. ‘Click, click’, no response. Mark grunted, ‘guess I have to come back in the morning.’ But he decided not to waste this opportunity and began scanning around the mansion, searching for ideas to write in his real-estate advertisement.
Mark traced his finger tips on the wooden furniture and frowned upon the discovery of his dusty fingers. He was wiping his fingers when he noticed, hidden beneath the torn wall-papers, a bold printed letter. Mark quickly paced forward and stopped in front of the wall. He was able to see, with glimpses of moon light that was shining through the glass-stained windows, a letter. Mark ripped the wall paper so he could see what was beneath it. Slowly but clearly, a name revealed, it did not sound strange to him, because the name that was hidden beneath the wall paper was his own, ‘Mark Wilson’.
Mark’s breathing paused a moment, his fingers reached further and a message appeared.
‘Mark Wilson, beware of the Weeping Angels! Don’t blink!’
At the bottom, signed ‘The Doctor, 1969’
Chill ran down his spine, Mark shivered uncontrollably. It might be a dreadful coincidence. He thought when he suddenly spotted a rock statue of an angel standing outside the window. The angel had its hands covering its face, as if it was…Mark turned his glance towards the message, ‘weeping’.
Goosebumps began to climb up his arms. Mark quickly packed his camera into his backpack and made his escape from this eerie place. He did not turn back and take a second glance at the statue, because if he did, he would have noticed that the angel had uncovered its face.



留爪 我要学英文

呃，仰望。轻插

“Mark, I think you are just being superstitious.”
Sally pulled out the car keys and unbuckled the seat belt. “Did you bring the camera?”
Mark nodded. He stepped out of the car and walked towards the old, rusty gates that he had jumped over last night. The sun was half covered by the clouds but there was adequate light for Mark to take pictures for his real-estate advertisement.
“You should ask for keys.” Sally complained as the gate wrinkled her coat. They walked into the mansion and began surveying in.
Mark felt a lot better and safer. He examined the house thoroughly and began to take photos.
Sally walked into the bedroom where Mark saw the message last night. She carefully read it over and, like Mark, she also spotted the angel statue outside the window. Sally paced closer towards the window and stared straight into the angel’s covered face. The angel was half a head taller than Sally. It was wearing a long Romania robe with a belt tied below the chest. Its wings were folded behind its back and the tail of the wings was almost touching the ground. Sally looked closer and discovered nothing different from any other typical angel statues.
Suddenly the doorbell buzzed, making Sally and Mark, who was taking photos in the living room, jumped.
Sally shifted her gaze and walked towards the bedroom door.
Behind her, the angel uncovered its face. Its pupil-less eyes stared straight towards Sally’s back.
Sally peeked behind the bedroom to see who might be visiting this abandoned mansion.
Mark opened the door and a young, slim man in black suit was revealed.
“Good morning, I’m Lewis Sparrow. You must be Mr Wilson.” The young man pulled out a letter from his inner pocket and handed, with both hands, to Mark. “This is a letter from my grandmother, Sally Sparrow.”
“What?!” Mark did not take the letter, “You must’ve got the wrong person!”
“Mr Mark Wilson,” the young man was very patient, “I was told by my grandmother, Sally Sparrow, to deliver this letter at 11:45am on the 3rd July 2002, at 57 Brooklyn Ave, London…
Sally pushed her ears towards the door, trying to eavesdrop what was going on. She gave up trying and decided to walk out. She gave a quick scan around the room and saw something that made her blood drop cold.
The angel was inside.
Sally opened her mouth and tried to scream, but no sound came out. The statue’s arms were widely spread. Its elegant hands became claws and its face was twisted, revealing a sharp set of teeth.


The angel did not move. It was as if someone had swapped the angel statue with a devil one. It was still rock solid.
Sally finally resumed her breathing when she realized that the statue was still just a statue, it could not move. But she dared not walk any closer.
“Sally?” Mark’s voice ricocheted from the front door, “Can you come here for a moment?”
Sally jumped at the noise and decided leave this haunted room as soon as she can.
She turned around.
“Sally? Where are you? There is this man claiming to be your grandson!” Mark chuckled at the sound of this. He waited for a long silence and decided to check on Sally.
Mark was about to proceed to the second floor when the young man interrupted, “Excuse me, Mr Wilson, I have to attend my grandmother’s funeral, here is the letter. You have a good day sir.”
Mark opened the letter,
‘Dear Mark,
You must be full of confusion when you saw this letter, but I am in 1950, London. I don’t know what happened, all I remember before arriving here was you taking your real-estate photos at Brooklyn Ave.and oh yes, the angel.
I lived a good life here. I met a boy when I first arrived. He proved me wrong by showing me the daily paper. I was so confused and scared, so I followed him everywhere! Then guess what happened? We got married, and I had my first child the second year after our marriage. His name was Adam.
I live a merry life here in 1950, London. I don’t think I’ll be half as happy as I am now if I didn’t ‘time travel’, that’s what the Doctor said. Ah, yes, almost forgot. I met a strange man here who called himself the Doctor. He is a time traveller and wanted you to save him. I couldn’t understand half of what he was saying. He told me to send this letter at 11:45am sharp on the 3rd July 2002, at 57 Brooklyn Ave. He wanted you to beware the weeping angels.
I missed you a lot Mark, and I want you take good care of yourself now that I’m gone.
Love
Your best friend, Sally
p.s. you have seven CD waiting for you at JB videos. Remember to pick them up'
Attached with the letter were some black and white photographs. Mark trembled as he saw the familiar face of Sally in a wedding gown, and baby Adam.


我狗眼……我狗屎一般的英语知识注定我只能写下两字：留名……

mark厉害

3L+1 OK I am reading it.
LZ fighting !Excellent!
[i think i don't understand every word .....cry eyes.....]

…………我可以爆粗口吗…………
英语万年挂科的人表示楼主你好楼主再见

楼主开新坑吗？撒花花~~

同学英文…………

虽然看不懂但是还是想看懂= =（？

哇哦 这是给俺们英语专业的人准备的大餐不？？？？？？？每天九节英语然后再来啃这文。。。桑不起 先养肥吧

马

话说用英文文笔怎么定义

话说用英文文笔怎么定义

LZ好牛