MissRosebud
Try to read your own work as a stranger would read it, or even better, as an enemy would. ~Zadie Smith
MissRosebud
Try to read your own work as a stranger would read it, or even better, as an enemy would. ~Zadie Smith
Try to read your own work as a stranger would read it, or even better, as an enemy would. ~Zadie Smith
Try to read your own work as a stranger would read it, or even better, as an enemy would. ~Zadie Smith
I saw a shooting star last night. I didn’t tell mum that I got out of bed and made a wish. But this morning there’s a fluffy puppy downstairs in the living room.
Mum says it’s a surprise for me but she’s always been against me having a puppy. Why now?
Days pass and I soon regret this wish coming true. Puppy’s are hard work. You have to take them for walks, change their bed, feed them. They are al...
I hold the sheet of paper in my hand. It’s another house form.
The cobbled walls are covered in moss which is astonishing. How did it get down here? How is there enough light or air for the moss to thrive?
The low ceilings have spider web homes on it. They hang even lower than the dust balls in the corners. Can spiders live without light? Can they make their homes comfortably in such a cold spac...
“Boxed cereal or breakfast bar?” a deep, male voice asks. He’s loud enough that I can hear him from the other room. It does help that the dinning room door is slightly ajar.
I’ve never heard him before so I can’t put a face to his voice.
“Skip.” Jane answers back. Her voice lacking any emotion like his was.
I can picture her expressionless face clearly. She’s always been quiet and keeps to hersel...
“99, 100. I’m coming to find you.” shouts a ittle girl. Her voice is rough and sounds like sand paper scratching along a wall. The yellow butterfly clips in her hair flutter their wings like they’ve been counting with her.
“That wasn’t all the way to 100.” a boy yells out from his side of the room. His voice is high and rings out in the room. The toy dinosaur he holds in his hand nods his head in...
I hear a low, gently voice whisper my name. And then the voice changes to a loud shout. Over and over again I hear my name being said. Where’s it coming from? Behind the door? Behind the windows? It must be coming from outside.
I hear my name again, only this time it’s followed by a soft caress along the walls in my head.
The threatening voice isn’t coming from outside, no. It’s coming from inside...
Screaming comes from the the room next door.
‘A baby’s being born?’ one asks, joy laced in each word.
‘Could be someone’s last scream.’ the other said, voice muffled beneath the blanket covering her body.
‘Don’t say that.’ the first voice scolded. Her eyes wide in alarm. ‘Where’s your optimism?’
‘We’re in a bloody hospital.’ they said flatly. ‘There’s no optimism here.’
‘Optimistic, pessimist...
She stands taller than me, her bare feet stand steady as she smiles at the panning cameras.
I pull the swimsuit from my body but the fabric smacks back down with a soft thud. I feel itchy, I feel annoyed.
There was seconds between the two of us but she stands up there like she’s done something far more amazing....