Like all progressive people, he uses a computer. Like every progressive person who uses a computer, he likes the Internet. Like every person who likes the Internet, he uses it and thus goes to sleep very late - around 4 or 5am. And like people who go to sleep so late, he has a lot of problems with waking up.

This morning found him sleeping with his face on the keyboard. Suddenly, he heard an alarm clock. He lifted his head off the keyboard and looked at the clock. He understood that he must wake up but his head fell back down on to the keyboard.

A CD in the CD-Rom drive started to cry as loud as it could. He jumped and heard another terrible cry. It was his cat. He decided to go to the bathroom. He washed his hands. He put his face in the cold water. Now he is so-so and can go to work.

RIDING MY BIKE by Grant Crockett, aged 13Dunblane High, Stirling3rd Pushkin Prize winner, 2002

My brakes complained loudly as I swung my back tyre round into Baxter’s Loan. I set off peddling again, my gears clanked up into eighth as I turned my grip shift handlebars. I was beginning to feel tightness in my chest now. I had been peddling hard for almost 20 minutes trying to avoid Tony and his band of cronies.

Tony and co were all riding brand new Steelgaze fully suspendable (sic) bikes. God knows where they got those. I glanced down at my own bike. The silvery writing Apollo glimmered up at me through a heavy coating of dirt and grime.

Turning into Old Doune Road I stole a look back at my pursuers. Tony himself was leading his marauding war band. His great smug face grimacing up from over his damp tracksuit. He looked a right prat in my opinion but menacing nonetheless. He was a menacing prat.

Another skid and complaining of brakes brought me into the alleyway that runs behind Tesco’s and towards the railway tracks. I heard Tony try the same stunt but mess it up and plough into the wooden fence that runs along each side. Moments later came the yelps of pain and clattering of metal as his dim-witted accomplices tore into him I NIAGARA STILL by Alex Buskie, aged 13Banchory Academy, Aberdeenshire Highly commended, 2002

The negatives of people on snow Are all focused on the heavily falling water Which can’t be heard through the frame.

Stalactites hang from cliff edge rocks As stalagmites stare up at them.

Clouds of snow are well defined, While the tumbling water is grainy.

Top right, Snow merges with sky in a blurred cloud, Like milk being poured into tea.

Children run carefully up a slippery hill Just to zoom back down on a sledge.

The icy glints in this film.

Shadows are unknown to the falling water, But in the foreground all is dark Excepting a sharp light Which catches higher peaks.

The negatives of people on snow Are unaware of the shot.