Tag: prose

Lost in Winter

Footfalls muffled by numbing snow, Boots peeking out amidst sinking plains. Gloves held tight, Between frozen palms, Keeping heat from escaping her arms. Coat tangled up In little marching legs. Scarf wrapped tightly, Hat upon her head. Pigtails golden Against the bitter frost. “Where am I winter? I think I’m lost.”

The principal’s office

The principal’s office, a land of despair, the mighty ruler’s evil lair. Where she sits amid the cries and yells, an ogre in a living hell. Where darkness reigns and nightmares spawn, and to which the naughty children are drawn. The principal’s office, a place of delight, where things that are wrong are always set right. Where she smiles and offers cakes, assuring they … Read More The principal’s office

At the markets

At the markets, a place to be, what a lot of things you can see! The greengrocer is there with his apples and plums, selling his fruits with a merry little hum. The baker is there with pastries and cakes, nibbling biscuits in her breaks. At the markets, a place to be, what a lot of things you can see! The jeweller is there … Read More At the markets

What will you spend your money on?

What will you spend your money on? A bracelet for mum? A book on cats? A rubber duck or a magic hat? A little toy frog that jumps up and down, or maybe a wig that belongs on a clown? What will you spend your money on? A hand knitted scarf? A new game to play? A soft toy elephant or a bundle of … Read More What will you spend your money on?

Through the trees

What lies just through the trees? Come and see!

Let me dance

I want to dance, but will these weary limbs hold me? I want to leap without falling, spin without tripping. To throw myself into movements, without throwing myself away. I want to dance, but can my quaking hands break the bars of my cage? Could I fly with the stars? Or would I merely jump to touch them and fall short? I want to … Read More Let me dance

The opening. The shutting.

The opening. The shutting. A heart cracked in two. Love oozing out in place of blood, being trampled by thoughtless strangers. The opening. The shutting. The blink of an eye. Salty tears touch the dry earth which steals away its moisture. The opening. The shutting. Too much in pain to make anything come out. Lips sealed tight with imaginary superglue. The opening. The shutting. … Read More The opening. The shutting.

The beach

Shimmering bodies dance in blue, like ladies in a musical. Sand like sprinkles on an iced cake, blankets on top like cherries. Clouds like cotton candy one day, other times menacing grins. Skies of different colours, changing with my mood. Drifting with the waves, the atmosphere moved. Chaos blending in harmony to create what can only be known as the beach.

The Queen of arguments

Arguments flaring with no real fuel, setting alight figurative buildings for the sake of ones enjoyment. The opponents coming with a spread of answers and questions to throw in her direction. Alas, my Queen, she may fall this time if her sharp tongue does not sneer in the right way, or if her words are mellowed and empty. My fair Queen, do not revel … Read More The Queen of arguments

Talking

Talking, but the words I utter dissolve before making an impact. Singing, but my melodies are background noise, not payed attention to. Crying, but emotion doesn’t slice into the hearts of onlookers; instead, they watch on as though my pain were merely an ant on a leaf. Dancing, but my feet are numb, stepping in a rhythmic yet dull patter; a pattern that goes … Read More Talking

The Perfect oven

Original Short Story By Sofia,
Tasmania, 2020

Fake friends

Falling. Waiting for the moment when someone catches you and embraces you in a warm manner. But that moment doesn’t come. You’re left struggling. You’re left to pick up the pieces and drag yourself up to the task of brushing away the hurt, the confusion. Pain. The people surrounding you, influencing you are willing to let you crumble into dust, crumble into a position … Read More Fake friends

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