Stories, Poetry and Essays
A/N: Hi everyone! So here’s my first poem. I usually don’t write poetry, but is was actually quite fun and I hope it has kept a bit of the quirkiness I like so much! Enjoy!
Room Without Doors
In a room with no doors,
Sat a man without hope,
On a lone chair, forgotten,
With no plans to elope.
A/N:
Hi everyone! Here’s a holiday special for all you guys! Just in case you want to get into the right halloween mood! So enjoy, and look forward to Christmas, which will have a far more humorous tone 🙂
Mother
The hallway was dark and silent as Molly slowly made her way through it. She’d had the most horrendous nightmare. Probably because of the mountains of sweets she’d consumed despite her fathers teasing that she was really getting too old to use Halloween as an excuse. She’d merely stuck her tongue out and told him sixteen was hardly old. She’d eat as many sweets as she pleased.
Now, however, she regretted doing so. She had trouble shaking the nightmare off, and discovering the light had gone out hadn’t helped. It was with a baited breath she felt her way through the hallway; a sigh of relief escaping as she finally made it to the safety of the kitchen.
A/N:
Today’s update was a challenge from school! Describe someone as Insanely Attractive, and Frightening and Repulsive. If you have any thought of the main character or the story in general, please don’t hesitate to comment! Enjoy! 😉
Amanda was currently doing one of her most favourite things in the world. People watching. She had always been a shy girl, who didn’t find it easy to talk to strangers, but she loved to watch. It was her hobby, however weird some might find it. And it wasn’t like there wasn’t others like her.
Amanda divided people into two groups. Doers and watchers. Thankfully there was most doers. Made it more exciting for watchers like her.
So as she was pretending to read the book, which she had brought for this exact purpose, she let her eyes wander; trying to find that person, who for some reason stood out. The park was as always full of people, and there were plenty of subjects to choose from.
Today’s subject was an older woman with kind eyes. Amanda hid a smile behind her book. The person had to be a grandmother, she was sure. She just had that something about her. Like she radiated kindness.
Continue reading “Insanely Attractive or Frightening & Repulsive”
I wasn’t ever afraid of ghost. I’d never heard sounds in the night, never been afraid to look over my shoulder. There were far more pressing dangers to worry about. Humans wasn’t exactly angels on earth. I was afraid to run into a psychotic murderer; not a spirit.
No, I’d never been afraid of ghosts.
Until I became one myself that was.
Hi guys!
This week’s update started out as a challenge: Describe a person through the conversation of two other people.
Enjoy!
“She needs surgery,” Wilson said the second he stepped inside House’s office.
House gave him an annoyed look from over the top of his book. “Then perhaps,” he suggested drily. “You shouldn’t be in here telling me about it rather than out there scheduling it. I’m your supervisor. Not your nanny.”
“She doesn’t want it.”
As Thomas O’Connell sat with a cup of steaming Earl Grey, and the Sunday Newspaper spread out in front of him; he knew that life had been good to him. Him and his wife Sarah had met when he was but twenty-two and had married a year later. They had been married for just over fifty years, and he still found her as beautiful and kind as when he’d first laid eyes upon her.
They’d gotten three equally beautiful children, who had each gone out and been successful in their own way – Riley as a mother of three, Sam as an environmental lawyer and Tobias as a pilot.
It was just a few years back Thomas quit his job as an architect, which he had loved, and they had enjoyed their golden years ever since.
Yes; life was good when your name was Thomas O’Connell.
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.
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.
Hi everyone!
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!
Original
”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.”
Edited
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.
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.
Maria Sjöstrand 