By the time anyone would know what was happening, it would be too late. I wondered what it would feel like, how long it would take, whether people would have to watch me die or whether I would simply disappear under the water and disappear from sight forever. Thud, thud, thud. I could do it. […]Read more "Sail away "
She had become “that girl”. The one she scorned, the one with whom she swore she never would become akin. She would talk about him, think about him, play his songs, look at his photos. Her heart was melting; her defences relaxing; her smile, an almost permanent feature upon her face, these days. Who could […]Read more "Quand elle n’est pas avec lui, elle pense à lui."
I groan & roll over, curl into a ball The knock at the door, my wake up call. The dream I’d been having fast fades away I swallow my hatred & begin another day. I forget who I was, I’m clothed in disguise Smiling, seductive; I look into your eyes. Filled with lust & hunger, […]Read more "Behind These Eyes"
Books. I’m surrounded by bookshelves, floor to ceiling, in a tall, circular tower room. The gleaming oak shelves come together at the top as though archways, and for every arch of books, there is an arched window next to it. The room is light, spacious; every breath is a refreshing drink. The wooden floorboards echo […]Read more "My Ideal Room"
Have you heard about Ernest Hemingway’s six word story? I hadn’t, until today, and it has delighted me! A friend bet Hemingway that he could not write a story in six words, so the legend goes. He was forced to pay up, when Hemingway produced what he is said to have called his greatest work: […]Read more "Six Word Stories"
I write because I would go mad if I didn’t. It is my outlet; my sanity. So in a way, it’s selfish of me. But then again, to breathe is not considered selfish; it is simply understood as necessary for survival. My head is an explosion of ideas, colours, fragments, the unwritten. Sometimes someone tells […]Read more "Why I Write"
Heart racing, she smashed through the flimsy barricades. “Danger”; “Stay Out”. She kicked the signs with the full force of her frustration, broken bottles crunching underfoot as she rushed past towards the derelict house. Silence screamed at her, and she covered her ears. There was no way to drown out the torment that came from […]Read more "The Ultimatum"
Have you ever read a story and been frustrated with the stereotypical characterisation? [Insert sarcastic tone]: An asian who is great at maths? How extraordinary. A corrupt politician? Very creative. How about turning those stereotypes on their head when you create your character? Now that is entertaining! A quirky, unexpected character will spring to life […]Read more "Creating Characters: Defy The Stereotypes"
“What’s all the commotion about?” Indie wondered. Everyone in the common room was crowded around the noticeboard, exchanging animated shrieks of delight. Probably some silly dance which she, of course, was not interested in. Sigh. She had promised her mum she’d make an effort to be “normal” this term and fit in, whatever that meant. […]Read more "The School Ski Trip"
Ms. Fleming’s wig had gone missing. Naturally, everybody blamed me. Who else would do such an atrocious act to their elderly teacher? Well, why leave her wig unattended, I say. Girls will be girls. Anyway, I hadn’t touched her filthy wig. Yuck! The very thought of it disgusted me. I bet she hasn’t washed it […]Read more "Ms. Fleming’s Wig"