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    I wrote the following for the creative writing task in the specimen English Language Paper, as the opening part of a story about a place severely affected by weather. Mind giving me some advice about it?

    The boat wasn’t too large. It wasn’ttoo small either, about two of his steps wide and a donkey and a halflong. It was old, in need of a lick of paint or some polish to coverup the scratches, but it suited them well enough. There was space forhim on his upturned crate on one side, and space for Caspian to standon the other, and even a space for their belongings in a rough pileand covered in tarp in the middle. Perfect for them, you could say.Which was good, since they had spent several days on it now, bobbinglightly with the movement of the large, more modern boats.
    He moved his hands slowly across towhere a fishing rod dangled into the water, checking the third timethat hour for something. The longer he waited, the longer it seemedto take for the fish to bite. He blamed that last speed boat – itwas loud and noisy and must have scared the fish away. Sighingheavily, eyes dreary, he pulled it all back up and swapped a rod foroars, navigating the narrow street with expert care. A neighbourwaved to him from atop of her roof – she was hanging her washingaround herself, watching, waiting. They all were.
    He turned the corner onto the mainstreet, where a group of dishevelled looking people were wading inthe water, waist deep and struggling to keep their possessions abovethe water. They marched liked ants, obscured by their loads and bentover, while still trying to stay upright. His eyes were weary as helooked at them, struggling to make them out clearly.
    “Should have reminded me to bring myglasses,” he spoke to Caspian, without regarding him.
    Caspian made a hee-haw noise inresponse.
    Caspian was a donkey after all. He hadnever expected a proper answer to anything he said. Still, at leasthe had to talk to someone. He had lost his family in the flood.Caspian had been the only one waiting for him at their shack,standing practically submerged. The others had all fled, scatteredlike seeds across various refugee camps or hostels. Well, let themcope on their own. It only showed who the clever ones were.
    He and Caspian would be rescuedeventually, and then he would be laughing in their faces. Shiftingfrom his crate for a second, he tilted it slightly, checking the safestill sat there, with everyone’s savings. Ha! They shouldn’t haveran so fast. People always forgot the good stuff like that. Theywould struggle to continue, while he would be lounging on some beachsomewhere, doing whatever he wanted.
    But first, he had to be rescued. Andsurprisingly, no one had space for a donkey as well as an old man.
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