creative writing

Eyelids, heavy, slow, yet forced open. A crack in the curtains leaks light, slowly drowning the room. A push, sitting up, the room before you, white walls, burning bright where the light touches. Sliding the soft black duve off, now standing. Barefoot, fumbling your way through the room to a wardrobe, slipping your hands through the bars, ignoring the handle, then pull. Its open, met by a small assortment of shirts and jackets, greys, browns, blacks and whites blur together. Reaching in you pull out a random jacket and shirt, your fogginess is beginning to clear. Next is pants, you make your way across the room, steadier this time, set toward the drawers. Taking the handle, pulling and before you are pants, taking the top pair of dress pants, you slide them up your legs, the black fabric molding to your body. To the door, slipping brown leather shoes one you are ready, and the day awaits.

It is summer, the blinding sun holds the city in its hot embrace. You move away from the door, a trickle of newfound sweat finding its way to the earth. Endless towers grab at the sky, climbing higher as you move toward them. The glisten of the glass and sun, almost blinding. People pass, left and right, a blur as you mutually ignore each other’s existence. The bus stop, crowded, focused. A large man breathes heavily to your right, perhaps he had rushed to the stop? You pay him no mind. To your left, another man in a suit, like you, though better groomed. The bus pulls up, a cloud of dust close behind, that covers it, not losing its momentum. Its white, advertisements lining the sides.

A, hiss and the door opens. The crowd shuffles inward, desperate to get inside the, hopefully, air conditioned bus. Inside, cool, bliss. Finding a seat near the back you rest, letting the chilled air coat you. A stop, more people crowd onto the bus, a woman sits next to you, and another next to her, squishing you into the corner against the window. They immediately start chatting, as if the walk from the bus door to the seat was like plugging a leaking submarine. It was short lived, temporary. Another stop, your stop.Your squeeze past the two girls, trying to keep it from being awkward. Make it to the isle, and walk your way off the bus.

The sun is beginning to set, casting a orange glow across the city. Look, lethargic clouds stretch across the sky, casting mighty shadows, fighting against the dipping sunlight. The towers of glass begin to shift colors, trading gold for orange, orange for red, and red for a deep purple, and then black. The clouds fold and weave together, forming a thick blanket over the sky, smothering the remaining light. A light rain begins to fall, tickling your skin as it trickles its way to the ground. Rushing up the street, arms above the head, trying to protect your body from the wet bullets. Shelter, your destination, finally. You open the nearby door, wooden, and slightly wet, the handle cold in your hands. Your here.

knocked up world.

I sat, glaring through the window, into the vast labyrinth of bustle and noise. Glass giants tower above me, their watchful gaze glaring at the ants beneath them. A sweet scented flower appeared before me and asked “Are you ready to order?”

She smiled a sun of warmth toward me. ” a latte, vanilla.”

I waited in comfort, the buzzing environment enveloped me, trapping the heat and excitement of the moment in as I awaited my order. The sound of engines and horns roared outside, like lions fighting for the right of passage. A soft voice drifted through the noise, faintly reaching my ears. “Here you are, one latte, vanilla.”


Spilt coffee licked its way down my arm, hurrying to escape my thirst. It darted off of my fingertips, to the oaken floor bellow. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s no problem,” I replied, “It shouldn’t take long to clean.”

I was handed a warm, wet cloth and started to mend the damage that had been done. I gently brushed it down my arm, squeezing the water out as I did so. The water and coffee were at war, fighting for dominance over the dry, untouched areas of my arm. The drips soaked into the tips of my sleeves, the deserters of the brutal battle bellow. I placed the cloth on the table, water still oozing from it. A replacement Latte arrived only a few moments after the first. “I’m so sorry about that, I really am!”

“I had already forgotten it happened.”

That was a lie. I sipped delicately at my Latte, as to avoid burning my tongue. It was a warm, welcome, taste as it danced on my tongue. I relished the vanilla flavour as it tingled every inch of my mouth. I was in a state of total bliss, overwhelmed by my senses. The warm taste of freshly brewed coffee was like the warm embrace of summer, even in the coldest seasons. I took in one last breath of the warm coffee scent, one last look at the chaos of ravenous people. hungry people. I rose to leave.

Shake, crack, smash!

Small shards of glass littered my body, the walls of the labyrinth had come down. The sound of the city had changed, morphed into some strange creature. Sending screams, cries and alarms, past me, far into the distance. An invisible bull charged in through the window, chilling me to the bone as it was blown past me. The full brunt of nature was striking me, blow after blow, numbing my body, weathering me down. It was relentless. The ever watchful giants, now shattered and broken, bowed their steel skeletons in respect to the earth. I turned to face the flower that once smiled like a sun, which had all but wilted and crippled, its sweet scent covered by the smell of dust and decay.

My back ached, glass, wood and plaster, pierced and crushed my body, burrowing deep. Moans, cries and screams sent a shiver through my spine. Was this hell? Sticky, crimson blood clung to my skin; a liquid snake, slowly slithering and coiling around my arm, dripping away at the bottom. Pain echoed through my body, reaching the very depths of me. My body was jelly, trembling at the slightest touch. Every second, every moment, every minute, was the same. Each moment, tieing, restraining and freezing me in time, leaving me stranded in pain. the dust and rubble formed a wall on my arm, standing strong against the tide of blood against it. The taste of dust and blood mixed to make a monster inside my mouth. My body gaged to be rid of it, yet it still remained, cold and disgusting. My lungs burned as each breath brought a storm of dust in with it, singeing my body from the inside. I strained for air. Each action I made sent a shock of pain through my body. I tried to stand, to move, but my body rebelled. My mind was locked in the cage of my body, forced to experience its pain with it. I look out at the chaos, my world was in ruin.

This is your online portfolio

Hello and welcome to your personal online journal.

This platform has been created to enhance and enrich your learning at Mount Aspiring College. Its purpose is to provide you with an audience for your work (or work-in-progress) and you have the choice (by altering the ‘visibility’ of your posts) of whether your work on here is visible to the world, or only to your teacher.

Anything you post here in the public domain represents you and thus it’s important that you take care with that decision, but don’t be afraid to publish your work – as the feedback you may get from people at home, your peers and people from around the internet is only likely to enhance it.

Remember you can always access your class blog and all manner of resources through the Department of English main website – and by all means check out the sites of your peers to see what they’re getting up to as well.

If you have any questions for me, an excellent way to get an answer is to create a new private post on this journal. I am notified of any new posts and will reply swiftly to any queries.

Make the most of, and enjoy this new freedom in your English learning.



Chris Waugh