by Hadduzh
In the middle of a field, stood a tree.
It was full of life, yet dead.
It was fruitful, yet bore no fruit.
This may not make any sense to ones mind; how can something be alive and dead? And how can something have and not have fruit at the same time?
Well, this is why.
Half of the tree was glorious, speckled with succulent fruits and luscious leaves. It’s soil was moist and rich, caring for the right side of the trees roots, while the left side of the tree displayed the complete and utter opposite.
This half had empty branches, and not a leaf or fruit was in sight. The bark was cracked and dry, with dead moss scattered across its boughs, while the earth that surrounded it was lifeless, and crumbled in your hands like dust.
This was the tree of good and bad, and what happened to that tree one day is too unmentionable to say, so I shan’t tell.
But I will say that what happens includes a farmer, war, and a kind heart.
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Tears
by Hadduzh
“Drop, drip, drop” they go as they trickle down your blotchy cheeks.
Salty like the ocean, they dampen your face, filling you with an overwhelming sensation.
Closing your eyes, you can feel every twist and turn of them as they slide down your face, seeping into your mouth, letting out their distinctive salty taste.
Tears let out anger, sorrow or joy.
Tears will always be there, ready at your command.
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What If…
by Hadduzh
What if the sky came crashing down all around us?
What if we lived on mars?
What if flowers grew up side down?
What if birds drove cars?
What if all these things around us, were all just a dream?
All of these thoughts come from the ‘what if’ stream, full of everybody’s most crazy dreams.
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Warmth
by Hadduzh
Warmth isn’t just physical thing, like if your sitting in front of a fire or heater, it is also a feeling, a feeling of happiness, content, and sometimes pride.
You could glow with warmth if someone congratulated you on getting an award, or if they gave you a sincere complement; or you could feel warmth if you just ran laps around an oval, and if you wear layers and layers of cloths on a hot summers day.
Both are the same thing by name, yet different in nature, it is two different things, warmth.
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dark alley
by sofiaista
Johnny raced down a dark alley, his coat flying out behind him.
He reached into his large pockets and pulled out a spy walkie talkie.
Pressing a red button on the device, he spoke into it.
”Come in spy base, this is Agent JW. Pick me up one eight hundred hours. Over.” Barked Agent JW, also known as Johnny.
”We read you loud and clear JW.” Spoke a stern male voice.
”Good, do as I asked. Over and out.”
”Will do. Over and out” replied the stern male voice.
Johnny jammed his walkie talkie into his pocket as he neared the end of the alley.
He breathed in, and waited to meet his doom.
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Her
by sofiaista
The days seem endless without her.
Every thing seems meaningless without her.
Life has no purpose without her.
All day long you do your work, the only thing motivating you is the thought of seeing her.
Closing your eyes, you try to picture her smile, her eyes, her laugh.
When the clock strikes 4:00, and it’s time to go home, a wave of serenity hits you.
”Knock, knock, knock!” goes the sound of your fist tapping on the door, waiting for her to come and open the door.
In a few moments, she arrives.
Her eyes a soft blue, her smile as sweet as sugar, and her laugh as bubbly as ever.
She is here.
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The Hole In The Roof
by sofiaista
“Drip, drip, drip”. Went the rain trickling through a hole that was inconveniently placed in the middle of a tin roof.
A pair of sapphire blue eyes gazed at the hole.
These eyes belonged to a middle aged man, perhaps in his fifties.
He sighed deeply, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a few unruly coins.
He could barley buy a candy bar with this money, let alone fix the roof.
Shoving the coins back into his pocket, he looked around the small apartment room and counted the things that needed to be fixed.
The stained carpet was fraying at the edges, his bed was squeaky and as hard as a rock, the roof was leaking, and the light that dimly lit up the room needed to be replaced.
Closing his eyes, the man called Gilbert remembered how he got there in the first place.
Gilbert winced at the memory, and tried to push it away.
Grabbing his worn out gloves, he hurriedly flicked off the useless light , stepped outside, and shut the door behind him.
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Circus Clowns
by sofiaista
Round and round and round they go, on a tiny unicycle straining against their weight.
Their red noses the size of a small grapefruits bobble up and down, in the same way that their springy wig covered in orange curls does.
‘Flip flop, flip flop’, goes their oversized shoes as they run around the small stage, wide grins plastered across their faces.
All day long they cartwheel, sing, and pull odd faces.
Instead of making children laugh and smile with joy, a lot of the time they do the opposite, and make kids reel back with terror.
What an odd thing they are, circus clowns.
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The Disco Dance
by sofiaista
I shuffled awkwardly into a disco flooded with people ready to dance the night away.
Everywhere I looked, groups of enthusiastic dancers were showing off their best moves on the shiny dance floor.
Sighing, I scanned the room for a quiet corner of the room I could stand in alone, but then, I felt a light tapping on my shoulder.
I spun around, and as I did my eyes widened in utter shock.
It was Jenny.
Jenny is the most beautiful, clever, and talented girl at high school; to me at least.
She has chocolate brown hair, that tumbles down her back like a small waterfall, and her eyes are the most gorgeous emerald green.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were here too! What a coincidence!” She said, flashing me a pearly tooth smile.
“I didn’t know you were here either.” I squeaked in a hoarse voice, my palms beginning to sweat up a storm.
“How are you doing?” Questioned Jenny, her green eyes sparkling like gems.
“Good.” I Stuttered, while my legs turned to jelly underneath me.
Let me make one thing strait, I am TERRIBLE at talking to girls, especially Jenny.
“Would you like to dance?” She asked, nodding her head at the dance floor.
I would’ve liked to say yes, and dance all night with Jenny, but did that happen? Of course not.
Instead, I let out a strange choking noise, grimaced, and fell to the floor.
The last thing I remembered was Jenny’s voice echoing around my head, “Someone help!”
Worst Disco Ever.
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The Sailor
by sofiaista
If you happen to find yourself staring out at a bay, you may glimpse a small boat bobbing towards the horizon.
This is a sailors boat, and that sailor has a story like no other.
He was once a happy bloke, filled with cheer and gladness.
He had a love of his life, and little girl too.
They would often spend evenings dancing and singing or playing games.
But one fateful day, his wife and daughter were at the beach, swimming and making sandcastles, when he was informed that a tragic event had taken place.
The strong current had swept the little girl deep in to the water, and slowly, she swallowed more and more salty water, until she drowned.
After a while, the mother realised her child was not paddling in the shallows like she said she would, and was no where in sight.
Panic stricken, the mother raced around the beach, darting from person to person, asking if they had seen a girl with blue eyes and curly brunette hair; but no one had seen her.
The mother dived into the ocean, and paddled as far as she could, hoping her girl would be there.
The woman kept swimming, until she had to stop and take a break, until out of the deep came a monstrous shark, at least 3 metres long.
The shark swallowed up the poor woman, ending her life.
When the man had finished reading the letter containing the series of unfortunate events, his heart skipped a beat, and tears started spurting out of his eyes, running down his cheeks like small rivers.
And ever since that day, the man had been out on his boat every week, determined to prove his wife and daughter were alive, and that the letter was a hoax, even though it truly wasn’t.
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Roses
by sofiaista
Roses can symbolise many things, like love and peace.
Deep red roses from burgundy to Scarlett, can be a gift of love, while snow white roses could symbolise peace.
Roses aren’t just one thing, they are many.
Such a simple form of beauty, like a rose, can mean the world to someone.
Such a wonderful creation roses are.
