I wrote that for one of my OU assignments.
It's a bit shit.
And it's probably line-broken to hell!
EDIT: Ah well, it'll be tl;dr'd anyway :D
Although that morning it had been pouring down with rain, the only sign of this was the large umbrella she had been made to carry with her. The sky had cleared and the grass they sat on was warm. It was a rather large umbrella, which was quite inconvenient, but for the time being it lay amidst the food they had brought with them. The temperature – hadn’t they had a conversation about the temperature a few weeks before? – was ideal, crisp and cool, not quite autumnal but certainly not like August, or July. There had been fewer presents this year, but she didn’t mind. She hadn’t asked for much; she had felt she didn’t deserve the kindness of others. Of course she wanted them, but wouldn’t that have been selfish? There had been money, there had been jewellery. Those black shoes she had wanted, she had those. Yes, a size too big, but nothing an extra pair of socks wouldn’t fix. The best (or the most meaningful) was the poncho. Made from heavy blue thread of different shades, she had drawn comments from the teenagers sitting in the park. Can I borrow your picnic rug? Where’s the camel? It didn’t matter that ponchos had become severely unfashionable quite a while ago. It didn’t matter that she was unlikely to wear it again. It was hot, but that didn’t matter either. It was cooler in the shade, sitting under the trees in her poncho. All that seemed to matter was the person who had given it to her – the black-haired boy who had walked the wrong way up the train platform that morning.
( Lampito rise with the moon, go to bed with the sun, Thu 11 Jun 2009, 12:06, Reply)