Write an essay with the title: The hailstorm.

I was hurrying as fast as I could, but my heavy school backpack dragged me slower. The air smelled fresh, with gust of damp wind, and the sky grew darker and darker. Yet it had a strange yellowish glow. As I turned into our street I heard it: a roaring and rattling, somewhere behind me, like marbles spilled on metal. Then it was on me: hail! The sound was of it drumming on the tin roofs all around.

Thousands of tiny ice bullets stung my head and face and shoulders, and the backs of my legs as I raced on, now bending over to protect myself. At last I made it inside and slammed the door behind me. The warmth of the dry air inside cuddled me, as I shivered in my wet uniform. I hauled off my bag, threw it down and ran to the window.

It was exciting! The stones, as big as marbles, pounded down on the tar road brick pathway and bounced up again, like shining popcorn. All normal sounds were muffled by the hail. Within minutes a magical carpet of whiteness lay over everything. Our suburb was transformed into an Antarctic scene. There was no-one out; not even a car drove past.

As suddenly as it arrived, the hailstorm passed on, and out of every house we ran to examine to grab up the hailstones, to crunch on their iciness, laugh and share their wonder. We threw ice-balls, slipped and skidded on the roads. Our fingers were cold as icicles themselves.

But, all too soon the ice began melting away, the sky lightened, sunshine shone through.

The magic was over, but we were still under its spell, laughing and playing in the growing puddles. Not everyone loved it – my uncle was furious with the hail; it dented his car. But for me, it was one of those special memories I’ll never forget.