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BBC Sounds.
500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
Welcome back to another week of twinkly tales from imaginations all over the country.
Bedtime Stories is the home of BBC's 500 Words competition.
This week's theme is friendship.
Oh, what am I going to do?
Only one day till I move out of this house and I have still so much to do.
And I'm feeling so poorly.
I'm never going to get any of this done.
OK, mate, I'm off out.
Bob's invited me to go in his plane.
Yes, aeroplane.
We're going to fly over London.
Very excited.
Yeah, sounds great, mate.
Really happy for you.
Oh, you, uh...
You're all right, you're looking a bit peaky.
Oh yeah, well, I'm not bad.
Look, mate, we've been friends for a long time.
Tell me the truth.
All right, okay, yeah, you're right.
If I'm honest, I'm stressed.
You know, I'm moving tomorrow and I've still got so much to do and... I'm feeling so poorly.
Do not fear, my pal.
I'll help you.
We'll get it done in no time.
Yeah, but what about flying in Bob's plane?
I can do that any day.
Bob's plane isn't going to go anywhere.
Let me help you.
You put your feet up on the sofa here, I'll make you a hot toddy with extra honey.
Once I'm back, you can tell me what needs to go where.
And then, if you're feeling better later, you can help me.
Deal?
Deal.
The 500 Words Bedtime Stories Podcast with Dick and Dom.
A night with the stars.
Mbali was a young girl living with her family in a small village in the heart of Africa.
Mbali loved learning about the history of her village.
She had heard so many tales from the village elders about her ancestors, but she felt in her heart that she needed more than just stories.
She wanted to connect with her roots.
Mbali decided she wanted to sleep under the stars alone, down by the river's edge.
After some nagging, her mother, mamma lindaway, agreed that mbali could go, but there were three rules.
Mbali could only go as far as the river and no further.
She needed to make a fire before the sun set to keep wild animals away, and she needed to be back the next morning before the sun reached the top of Lombombo Mountain.
Mbali thought carefully about what she was going to take in her bag.
Some food water, something warm to keep the chill off her chest and a sheet she could use over her head as shelter.
Mbali felt brave.
She wanted to spend one night surviving the way her grandparents and great-grandparents had.
Mbali left the village with her bag on her back just after sunrise and reached the river before midday and set up camp.
After spending the afternoon exploring her surroundings, Mbali realised the sun was quickly setting.
Remembering her mother's rules, she started gathering wood for a fire.
She reached into her bag and felt for the matches.
They were not there.
Mbali didn't know how to light a fire without matches.
As the sun set and darkness surrounded her, she tried to stay awake as long as she could, but finally drifted off to sleep.
Suddenly she woke up, looked out towards the river and saw a familiar face.
An old lady who looked just like her mother called out to her.
She said, You must be cold, Mbali.
Let me show you how to light a fire.
With some sticks and dry grass.
The old lady rubbed the wood together and, like magic, smoke and then fire appeared.
Before long, Mbali and the old lady sat warmly together and talked about the village and its amazing history.
Mbali didn't remember falling asleep and as the morning came she woke up, felt the warm fire and remembered the old lady.
As she packed up camp, she noticed hyena footprints in the sand.
The fire must have kept them away.
As she started the long walk back to the village, she thought about her night.
Did she really wake up?
Was it all a dream?
Who was the old lady who made the fire?
She decided it must have been her grandmother, watching over her and keeping her from danger.
She arrived home just in time.
All Mbali told her mother was that she had connected with the stars and she was happy inside.
Her mother smiled knowingly and hugged her tightly.
My name is Alex Picton.
I'm quite a quiet boy and I'm very shy, but I'm here to tell you about my other life.
My dangerous life.
My life as a spy.
I live in the town of Derry.
It's a peaceful town in North Yorkshire.
It's not very big, and we have our own little tight-knit community.
But it's all a charade.
A ruse, if you like.
It's what you don't see that matters.
In Derry there are two lead organisations, the SSFOS and TUFSA .
That's the group I'm in.
Don't get me wrong, life being a spy is great, but there is just one problem.
We're at war.
Yes, that's right.
SSFOS and TUFSA are at war.
The most serious war of all.
A spelling bee.
Look, I know that might sound pathetic, but trust me, it is a big deal in the spy industry.
Every year, the town of Derry does this.
It's tradition.
However, in this tradition, every year, someone, one side or the other, cheats.
Two years ago, the SSFOS provided the cakes.
They were Victoria sponges.
It would have been better if it was chocolate cake, but that's beside the point.
Anyway, back to the story.
So these cakes that weren't chocolate were laced with a powerful drug that made the TUFSA contestants mix up their letters and spell things backwards.
The following year, all the TUFSA competitors all wore the same glasses.
Steel-rimmed, just like Harry Potter, but when you looked carefully, the lenses were tiny computer screens across which the words scrolled very slowly, giving you time to read.
This year was different to any other because each group was only allowed to pick one member to represent them, and TUFSA, for some reason, picked me.
Today was the day.
The day when I went up against my opponent, Joan Smith.
Joan was the village crossword champion, and rumour has it she's even mastered Sudoku.
She is a black belt in Scrabble, and known as the Silent Assassin of Cluedo.
Without doubt the toughest opponent the SSFOS could give me.
The game was afoot.
I went first.
Especially...
E-S-P-E-C-I-A-L-L-Y Correct.
1-0-T-U-F-S-A
Now it was Joan's turn.
The word was nicotine.
She got it right.
It was now one all.
Loads of rounds passed.
We had words like pharmaceutical, metaphor, inconsistent and so many more.
It finally got down to the final round.
It was all tied at 19-all.
Whoever won this would take home the trophy.
It all comes down to this.
The word was arachnophobia.
Joan went first.
A. R. A. C. H. N. A. P. H. O. B. A. That is incorrect, shouted the commentator.
It was now my turn.
I start spelling.
A, R, A, C, H, N, O, P, H, O, B, I, A. Correct, comes a reply from the commentator.
I did it, I cheer.
I won.
I turned to Joan and whispered, Thanks, Gran.
Joan just smiled.
Once in TUFSA, always in TUFSA.
Who are the best spies now, then?
Crab and the Lanternfish Not so long ago, there was a little crab.
His name was Colin.
Colin lived on the seabed in vibrant tropical, warm waters, surrounded by the most colourful fish and marine life you could imagine.
Colin looked like any other normal crab.
He was bright orange, had two small beady black eyes, six walking legs, two swimming legs and two enormous claws that could crush a krill.
Colin was a gentle crab, and although he tried not to hurt any of his friends or family, he was sometimes clumsy and nipped them by mistake.
One day he sighed sadly and thought to himself, I wish I wasn't so clumsy all the time.
He decided to go to the deepest, darkest part of the ocean so that he would be alone and not accidentally hurt anyone anymore.
It was pitch black, freezing and a bit lonely because not many sea creatures ventured down to the deepest depths where Colin was.
One day, a small, delicate lanternfish swam over to Colin.
It was so dark he hadn't noticed him lying so still on the seabed.
Colin was in a deep sleep and when the lanternfish his name was Larry, by the way lit up, it gave Colin a shock and he accidentally nipped Larry.
Ow!
Ow! yelled Larry.
What did you do that for?
I'm so sorry.
I'm so clumsy.
I did not mean to hurt you, cried Colin, just as much in shock as Larry.
That's okay, replied Larry.
It didn't really hurt that much.
He lied, trying to spare Colin's feelings, because he could see he was quite upset.
I'm okay, Why are you down here? asked Colin.
I live down here, but I am alone because I keep on shining my light into other creatures' faces.
Replied Larry.
When I do, they shout at me and tell me to go away.
So I thought if I stay here I won't disturb anyone.
That's why I'm down here too.
I keep nipping everyone by accident with my enormous claws, even though I'm a nice crab and I don't want to hurt anybody, said Colin, getting a little tearful again.
The two little creatures hit it off straight away and became firm friends.
They played with one another every day and soon learnt that the lantern fish's little light was actually extremely useful when they needed to search for food or find their way around, or even when looking out for any dangers.
They realised that Colin's claws were also very handy for catching food and, most importantly, making dens to play in.
Colin's claws were also excellent at fighting off other creatures who thought either of them would make a tasty dinner.
The two little friends very soon realised that the traits they thought were negative and annoyed their friends and family were actually very useful, positive and helpful.
They just needed to use them at the right time, in the right place, for the right reason.
Right, that's that.
All packed.
See, it didn't take that long at all.
But we'd better get on the road.
Yes, you're right.
We'd better get on the road.
Start up the engine, Dom.
Started.
Oh, where are we actually going?
Ah, to the seaside, my friend.
Yes, my new home is right by the sea.
Goodbye, London.
From the very first day, Patch knew he was different.
He knew he was the puppy nobody would ever want to join their families.
He was the runt of the litter.
All his brothers and sisters looked immaculate, but he had wonky ears and different colour eyes and he just knew he wasn't perfect like them.
Then, day by day, all his beautiful, perfect siblings were chosen to be part of different families.
Everyone, except him.
Every time someone came to buy a puppy, they would say, He's ugly!
There is no way I'm having him!
And so he was left behind.
Then one gloomy, miserable day, a friendly-looking man came along and took the excited little patch away.
Patch thought he'd finally been chosen, but the poor little puppy was wrong.
Later that day he found himself locked in a compact cage and realised he was not in a family.
He was in a re-homing centre.
All around him he could see dogs of every description.
Crafty.
Cuddly, curious cocker spaniels.
Perfect, polite poodles.
Shiny, smooth sausage dogs.
But they never stayed for long.
Week by week they were all chosen to go to live with new families.
Then, one rainy day, several weeks after he'd arrived, A kind-hearted dachshund, who seemed to be extremely wise, gave him some advice.
Why are you looking so grim? he asked.
It's visiting day tomorrow.
Patch replied sadly.
No one ever chooses me.
Because of my wonky ears and different colour eyes, everyone thinks I'm ugly.
Ah! exclaimed the kind dachshund.
What you're forgetting is that we don't have to wait for people to choose us.
We can choose them and then show them that we are the perfect match.
All you have to do is get their attention and make them realize just how great you are.
After what the dachshund had said, Patch decided he was going to choose his perfect owner on the next visiting day.
The day arrived, bright and sunny, and Patch jumped around his cage excitedly.
As the glorious day went on, Patch spotted his new owner, a little red-haired girl in a wheelchair.
As she went past Patch's cage, he quietly barked and looked at her with his big, oddly coloured eyes.
She turned and noticed him, and smiled for a moment, before excitedly calling to her mum.
Mum, I've chosen the little puppy I want.
He's a bit like me and he's a little different from the other dogs, but I think he's perfect and I want him.
No doubt about it.
As Patch was lifted from his cage, he felt his heart pound with joy and his tail wag up and down like never before.
From their very first cuddle, they each knew they had found their perfect match.
For the first time ever, Patch finally felt loved and knew that at last he was the chosen one.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words Bedtime Stories The Family Prime Minister.
Dear Mum, For the past seven years you have been the acting head of the family.
But there is such a thing as democracy, I hope you know.
And I'd quite like to question your position.
You see, over the long years of your reign, I think we could all agree that things haven't been running too smoothly.
Firstly, let me draw your attention to the food.
The chicken pie you served last Wednesday was inedible.
We should not have to tolerate food poisoning on such a regular basis.
Secondly, I understand you're busy, but you could at least try to settle the atmosphere in the house when Charlie steals my things and then pretends that I pay Lucy to do my homework, which I do not, by the way.
Charlie is also upset about how you shrank all his sports gear and turned it pink.
And Dad is not happy with the amount of shouting and, quite frankly, swearing that goes on when he loses his wallet and keys and phone and shoes.
You're supposed to be the peacemaker.
No offence, but you're doing a terrible job at this.
I have consulted with the rest of the family and we have decided to initiate impeachment proceedings against you.
So you better get a good lawyer.
I already have my representative Lucy by my side and she also offered to be my finance director.
What a kind sister.
You will find us to be a formidable team.
See you in court.
Sincerely, Saskia.
Saskia looked up from her completed letter.
She read it through carefully one last time to double-check for spellings, and felt thoroughly satisfied with herself.
She signed it neatly in the bottom right-hand corner and slipped the document under the studio door.
She knew her mother would be in their drafting work emails, or more likely cursing her father for losing his passport again, and so she knocked to get their attention and promptly turned on her heel and headed upstairs.
She felt like she was in one of those reality TV shows.
Someone was going to get fired and she felt quite sure it was going to be her mother.
She marched upstairs and snatched her homework folder from her desk, and then she slipped into Lucy's room and flung it on her lap.
Lucy looked up at Saskia with a face that simply said, Seriously?
I'll give you a tenner, whispered Saskia.
Make it twenty, shot back Lucy and held out her hand.
Deal.
Now, let's get down to business, agreed Saskia, shaking her hand with a cunning smile.
The door creaked as it slowly opened, revealing a man carrying a heavy spade that glistened in the light of the full moon.
In the opposite hand he grasped the bag containing the lifeless body.
Cautiously the man stepped out of the door and trudged down the path.
Hunched over, his eyes fixed firmly on the Under an old overhanging willow tree.
He placed the bag on the ground and started to dig the shallow grave in dry, gravelly dirt.
In the distance, he could hear the sound of an owl hooting and welcoming in the night.
All around the man, life was carrying on as normal.
There were cars moving along the street, nearby houses illuminated by television screens and voices in the distance from the people leaving the local pub.
In the garden, however, there was a feeling of despair as the man continued on with his task.
Finally, the grave was completed.
The man stabbed the shovel into the ground beside him and surveyed his work.
It was time to lay the body in its final resting place.
Picking up the bag from the ground, he moved it towards the grave, placing it inside.
Kneeling down beside the pit, the man carefully tucked in all of the bag.
The last thing he wanted was for animals to disturb the body.
The bottoms of his trousers were dirty from the earth and his knees were painful from the gravel jabbing into the soft flesh and bone.
He had to use the spade as a support to pull himself back onto his feet.
Looking at his watch, he realized he was running out of time.
He must be quick.
With sharp strokes of the shovel, he replaced the earth, filling the fresh trench back up.
He finished the task by briskly patting down the surface.
The job was done.
Stepping back and looking over the scene, a tear rolled silently down his wrinkled cheek.
After all these years, how had it ended like this?
The two of them had been through so much together, he felt like he had to at least say a few words.
Croakily, he whispered, Rest in peace, my beautiful friend, Goldie, the goldfish.
Suddenly, the peace was disturbed as the back door was thrown open and a woman's body was silhouetted in the hall light.
Come on, Jim, dinner's ready.
It's cottage pie, your favourite.
This will cheer you up now you've buried that fish, you daft old man.
Who ever heard of burying a fish?
Oh yes, so could I. Look at that.
Enormous waves, people surfing.
Oh, I can smell the chips.
Hold on a minute.
What's that over there on the beach?
There seems to be a whole throng of people.
And hold on, is that a plane I can see?
Dom, I think that might be Bob.
And, oh look, I think that might be all our friends.
They're waving at us.
They're here to welcome you to your new home, mate.
Oh, this is amazing.
You're right.
But how did they get here?
Well, you see, when you were sleeping after your hot toddy, I nipped out for a quick five minutes and gave Bob the order to get everyone out here to the seaside.
We wanted to give you a proper send-off.
The Silent Library Once there was a librarian.
Her name was Silent Susie.
She was a very nice lady, but there was one thing about her that was bad.
She would never let anyone speak.
This caused some problems in the library.
One day, a girl came into the library.
Her name was Laughing Lily.
She was four years old and was very excited about books.
She spent half an hour reading.
Nothing could distract her from her books when suddenly she needed to go to the toilet.
She went up to the counter where silent Susie stood.
Laughing Lily said, Excuse me.
Shh, said the librarian.
But, said Laughing Lily, Shh, said the librarian.
Laughing Lily tried again.
Shh, said the librarian.
Laughing Lily gave up and ran out of the library to find a toilet.
By the time she got back, the library was closed.
She was very sad and cross.
The next day, Laughing Lily went back to the library.
She chose a book and started reading, but accidentally ripped one of the pages.
She felt guilty and decided to tell the librarian.
She went up to the counter.
Excuse me, said Lily.
Shh, said the librarian.
She tried again.
Excuse me.
Shh, said the librarian.
Laughing Lily felt so bad she went home.
She wondered why the librarian was so quiet.
Maybe she needed cheering up with something.
She decided to make the librarian a cake and take it with her the next day.
She covered the top with icing sugar and a candle.
Laughing Lily arrived at the library and took the cake up to the counter.
She lit the candle.
By chance, it was actually the librarian's birthday.
No one had made her a cake before.
Her birthday was usually silent.
She was so pleased, she couldn't believe it.
With one big puff, she blew out a candle.
The icing sugar blew everywhere.
The librarian stood in a cloud of icing sugar.
She felt her nose twitch.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, came the biggest sneeze.
Her nose.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, choo!
The sneeze was so loud, it made all the library books fall off all the shelves.
Everyone who was in the library started laughing.
The children started laughing, the mum started laughing, and the dad started laughing, and the grannies and grandpa started laughing too.
One of the grandpas laughed so much his false teeth fell out.
The librarian was furious.
She went bright red.
The librarian didn't know what to do.
All the books were on the floor and all the people were laughing.
Without meaning to, she started to giggle.
She giggled and giggled and giggled and giggled.
It felt so good.
She decided making noises wasn't so bad after all.
Later on, she put up a new sign on the library door.
It said, please be quiet, but not silent.
It turns out giggling is good for you.
And forevermore, people would come to the library to have a good read and a good giggle.
The end.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
Bedtime Stories with Dick and Dom.
My first crush.
I swear the moment I saw him my heart stopped beating.
He was sitting there in the cafe staring at his phone.
His chestnut brown hair slightly ruffled but still perfect.
Something on his phone must have been funny because he smiled.
His smile sent my heart doing backflips in my chest.
He was perfect in every way.
The day I saw Harry Williams was the best day of my life.
Okay, so let me introduce myself.
My name is Alex Brown.
I'm 16 years old and attend Oakland Secondary School.
I am constantly seeing him, on window reflections, in murky puddles, and even in my coffee.
I have a crush on Harry Williams.
As I do every morning, I woke up at 615, got dressed, ate and was ready to leave the house at 733, which was earlier than usual.
I made my way to the maths classroom for first period.
I sat down, pulled out my maths books and pencil case and waited for the rest of the students to file in and take their places.
Good morning, announced our maths teacher, Mr. Stanley.
Unusually, the seat next to me was empty.
I wonder who's going to sit there.
All eyes turn to the door as it is pushed open and a boy struts in.
I realize it is Harry Williams.
Meet Harry.
He's joining our class today, says Mr. Stanley.
You can go and sit next to Alex over there, he continues, motioning for Harry to sit down.
We're having a lesson on fractions.
Harry taps me on the shoulder.
Can you help me on question eight? he asks.
I nod, unable to form words.
When I get home, mum has prepared a chilli con carne and is waiting to eat.
I hear that a new boy has joined your class, she says.
What's he like?
I can feel a blush flowing up my neck, like creeping ivy and covering my face.
Oh, if I were to look at your face, I would think that you had a crush on him, mum teases.
I go even redder.
And when she looks in my eyes and sees the truth in there, her mouth is a perfect oeuvre of surprise.
Well, if that's what you want to do, then you should tell him, she urges.
He's at the park now.
I slowly rise and put my coat and shoes on.
I walk to the park, the bitter wind blowing in my face.
I see Harry's figure huddled up on an old rotted bench.
Timidly, I walked over, and I'm behind the bench.
I'm about to call out to him when I see what he's doing.
He is texting.
The latest text reads, We are together, till the end, just us.
You sing a girl.
Cold hurt slices through me like a knife as I realise no one could ever love me.
I am just boring, Alexander James Brown.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words Bedtime Stories The Odd Sock Once there was a sock called Daniel.
But everyone knows that socks are supposed to have a pair.
That was the problem with Daniel.
He didn't have a pair with the same pattern as him.
Ever since he could remember, he had been alone.
All of his brothers, sisters and cousins had a pair, but not him.
Everyone teased him for being the odd one out, even his parents.
Being an oddsock, he never got to be worn.
It was something of an honour to be put on in the morning, so you can't blame him when he had had enough and decided to search for his missing twin across the world.
That was his house.
Daniel packed a bag with a map and some food and decided he would go to each piece of clothing and ask them if they had seen his twin.
The pants were no use, nor were the dresses, so that left the T-shirts and the trousers.
Daniel was a little more worried about going to find these two, as it meant venturing out to the mountainous stairs and the pot-plant forest, which were rumoured to be deadly, because he could fall or snag himself and get a hole.
Daniel started off determinedly, but as the hours passed he began to have second thoughts about his adventure and was thinking of turning back, but bravely plodded on late into the night.
After a good night's sleep, Daniel set off again bright and early the next morning looking at his map for guidance.
After a while, he found himself at the mountainous stairs, ready to meet the T-shirts.
They all laughed when they saw the odd sock, but Daniel was used to it and asked Have you seen my twin?
The T-shirts, all stopped laughing and one said ''I myself have not seen him, but I think the trousers have told me about another odd sock, like you''.
''Thank you very much,'' said Daniel thankfully.
''I'll be on my way.''
Next, Daniel entered the pot-plant forest where the trousers lived.
One pair spotted him and came over to speak to Daniel.
"'I know where your twin is,' he said.
"'He is under the Arctic fridge.
The bottom of my trouser leg spotted him a couple of weeks ago.'
Thank you so much, said Daniel joyfully.
You are the best piece of clothing in the world.
With joy in his heart, Daniel skipped off to the Arctic fridge much faster than before.
The journey still seemed to take forever, though, because he was so desperate to see his twin.
When he arrived, he rushed to the bottom of the Arctic and pulled out his dusty other half.
Daniel felt as though he were whole again.
His name was Nathaniel and he shared all the same interests as Daniel.
They rushed home excitedly, ready to start their daily routine for the very first time.
No one ever teased Daniel again.
The End BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
Bedtime Stories.
Screen time.
Marley is an ordinary teenager.
She lived on the 20th floor of a tower block in London with another 11 families living on the same floor, but often felt lonely.
She loved sitting out on her little balcony with screens on either side making it private.
The balcony had strange shapes, with smelly plants and a wooden woven chair where she would sit watching the city go by.
She would always see something different every day and would spy on people in the glass tower opposite her, imagining they were her friends.
She loved the balcony.
It was so peaceful and quiet.
One morning, Marley was sitting on her balcony on her wooden woven chair as normal, watching London.
Suddenly she heard the sound of loud rap music blasting from a phone on the balcony next door, behind the screen.
It was so loud, it felt like the building was going to collapse.
All of Marley's plants were vibrating.
It was a track that Marley liked, but did it have to be so loud?
She tried to shout over the noise when a cactus that had been balanced on a shelf above the screen toppled over and crashed into the next door's balcony.
The rap music suddenly stopped and an ouch could be heard.
Marley felt embarrassed and was about to bolt inside her flat and shut the door when a girl's voice came across from the other side of the screen.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
I didn't mean to break one of your plant pots.
Marley replied, don't worry about it.
It was a smelly one, smelt like rotten cheese.
Hope you're not too hurt by the spikes.
I feel like a hedgehog. came the voice.
Marley giggled a bit.
The voice asked, What's your name then?
Marley, she replied.
What a lovely name.
Well, I'm Maud.
They soon became best friends and talked about life in the city, plants and of rap music.
They would talk every day, even if the weather was bad.
They enjoyed each other's company from behind the screens.
Marley one day asked Maud whether they could meet up and arrange a trip to the cinema or the shopping centre.
Maud didn't seem keen, but Marley wasn't going to give in.
Marley asked Maud whether she would like to go to the local cafe.
Maud wasn't sure, but they agreed to meet by the front door of the flats.
Marley wore her favourite jumper and jeans for her first trip out with Maud.
She hoped it would be the first of many.
Marley wondered what Maud looked like.
She was sure that she would be really fashionable.
She entered the lift and waited for it to reach ground level.
When she stepped out of the lift she looked up and down but couldn't see a teenager girl waiting for her.
The only person there was an old lady with a shopping trolley.
The lady smiled at her and said, Marley?
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
I think you might have drunk too many fizzy drinks, Rich.
That means it's time to wrap up this week's podcast.
Yes, we hope... Excuse me.
We hope you all enjoyed this week's stories.
And if you're still beavering away and writing stories, here's a writing tip from our pals over at Oxford University Press.
Watching animals in real life can help you to make your writing more realistic.
Make notes about their behaviour, the way they move, how they act, and try to drop these descriptive details into your story.
Use all the five senses to describe their world.
What would a busy city park smell like to a dog?
What would a mole hear if someone started digging up their burrow?
This can help you to find a voice of your animal character.
We're off for a surf now before the sun sets.
Gnarly dudes!
Goodbye!
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words. giving you unlimited articles and videos, ad-free podcasts and the BBC News Channel streaming live 24-7.
Subscribe to trusted independent journalism from the BBC.
Find out more at bbc.com slash join.
