In a red-bricked cottage, surrounded by a garden filled with the kind of flowers, which are to certain people commonly known as weed, a young girl was fiddling with a teapot. She was serving the tea with a kind of ease, which came through years of repetition, while simultaneously trying to read the book placed on the kitchen counter.
Still reading, the young girl finished serving her tea, before making a beeline to the most comfortable chair in the adjoined living room, levitating the tea behind her as she walked.
The living room was one of those cosy sort of places, where you immediately felt at home. Soft rugs covered the floors, comfortable chairs were placed wherever deemed suitable and there was a blazing fire in the old-fashioned fireplace, covering almost an entire wall. Boxes of chocolate and piles of books covered every suitable surface, and a smell of newly baked goods came from the kitchen.
Continue reading “May & Joe Joey Joe”
Laura Wessels had worked on her book for eight years now. Eight long years. She had seven pages.
It just always seemed like there was so much to do, and her writing was never prioritized. There was always work, or her husband, or her children, and so her computer slowly collected dust. Even when she tried there was just so much noise. Screaming, complaining, laughter, music. It was impossible to concentrate when the outer world was screaming for you to come back.
So when she heard about the Writer’s Retreat it seemed perfect. A quiet place, where phones were forbidden, and she could write in peace. In theory is seemed quite simple. A hotel, where you could either stay for free or give a little in support, without Wi-Fi or television. Anything really, which could distract you. It sounded perfect. Exactly what she needed.
Continue reading “Writer’s Retreat”
Today’s post will be interesting. It’s about editing. Basically we got a really bad text, we are supposed to make good. We can add stuff if we’d like, but we can’t delete any. So here goes!
”Carl and Daisy were drinking tea. Carl was angry with Daisy. Daisy was sad that Carl was angry. When he was angry, they fought a lot, and she felt upset all the time. Now he said to her that she was ugly. That made her even sadder, because she didn’t even think it was true. She didn’t like Carl anymore. Carl also did not like her.”
The teacup was shaking in her hands, despite her biggest effort to appear indifferent. Daisy knew Carl was furious with her, and she struggled to hold back her tears as he glared at her. He’d acquired an unbeaten ability to seem as if she was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen, and she refused to let him see her cry. But her eyes were burning and despite practically gulping down the tea, her throat felt dry and raw. Sometimes she felt like Carl was always angry with her.
Continue reading “Tense Tea”
Emma Green was the type of girl, nothing weird ever happened to, and it was highly unlikely anything ever would. Not that she was dissatisfied by this. Quite the opposite in fact. She was perfectly happy to live life without frightening adventures or weird happenings.
Yes, she decided as she stirred her morning coffee, shifting through the Sunday Newspaper. Life was quite satisfying just the way it was.
Continue reading “Quite Unremarkable”
As you are reading The Question Mark by Gevorg Emin, it seems clear that the author of the text was speaking in a symbolic sense. I will argue why The Question Mark is about the loss of the certainty of youth and the growing sense of reflection as one grow older. I will also point out an example of how The Question Mark is about the author’s melancholy at the thought of such a transformation. I will use examples taken out from the text as arguments for this claim, and thereby point out the symbolism hidden in the author’s choice of word.
Continue reading “The Symbolism of The Question Mark”
Welcome to Mariasjostrand.com!
This is a website filled with free stories and essays. It’s purely meant for you readers to enjoy, and there will be a new post up and running every Friday. I used to post it noon – Danish time – but as I’ve just gotten work as a bartender this will no longer be possible. I will, however, still post on Fridays.
I’m currently a member of the South Gate of Society School of Creative Writing, where I’m taking my degree, so a lot of what you’ll be reading will be promts from my classes.
So look forward to the upcoming Friday!