Creative Writing, Prose

Autumn [3/4]

by Leo Gillard The sunlight was streaming through the trees, dappling the ground with ever-shifting patterns. As they walked, Sasha in front and Zach next to him just behind her, leaves steadily fell from the trees with every gust of wind. Further off in the distance, Arthur could hear Willow somewhere in the stream. Well, […]

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Creative Writing, Poetry, Prose

Embrace

by Monim Wains Skin pulled tight with springs and coils tense and stiff. Cold attic on a dry winter day, lit only by moon-blue beams that cut a chill in your chest. Each breath ebbing out in gasps. Anguish for a single sunlit ribbon to swim through it all, awashing you in warmth. To lay […]

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Creative Writing, Poetry, Prose

Love Says

by Monim Wains Love has a thousand shades from the mellowest yellow to the deepest red. It paints the grey wrinkles of a face onto a canvas, traced with lolling eyes and a lazy smile. Love. Passion and heat, calm warmth, drowning emotion and friendship. Inside jokes and a decade of moments, threads of memories […]

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Creative Writing, Prose

Summer [2/4]

by Leo Gillard It was mid-June, and the sun was probably burning the back of Sasha’s neck by now. She’d regret it later, but right now she couldn’t bring herself to care all that much. No, her priority was the ground in front of her: weaving her fingers through the warm earth, rooting out the […]

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Creative Writing, Prose

Ripples in the Cracks

by Samanwita Sen You have always marvelled at the immaculate gloss of supermarket aisles, the shiny pages of magazine covers categorized into pristine, neat little sections which spring out to accost you with a lurid burst of colour; lurid, precisely to compensate for the depthless caricatures they celebrate; lurid, as if in contrived rebellion against […]

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Creative Writing, Prose

Spring [1/4]

by Leo Gillard ‘Ready?’ Arthur asked, his eyes fixed on the building in front of them. It was… small. The garden was covered in weeds, the grass overgrown, leaves still on the ground from autumn. The house itself was built of red brick, a squat-looking bungalow with shuttered windows, the blue paint of the door […]

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Creative Writing, Prose

A Scene

by Monim Wains Crisp air blows at my hands and ears; spring breaks from winter. Some days that chill and others that mellow. Freshness surrounds me now; everything filtered with a screen of sunlight behind the clouds. The green grass is shaded a slight yellow, as if the air is coloured warm. My legs are […]

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