Tag: Writing





Such a gloomy, uncanny sight I see. It didn’t bother. I venture through this alleyway, seeing these posters with children smeared with dirt and blood? I notice this chalk board with all these names, so I decide to write mine as well. Once I write my name, I hear a faint creak coming from the store behind me. Out of curiosity, I turn to see an identical doll version of me. It got me pretty spooked. I head to the store’s door, trying to break. It doesn’t make the slightest movement. Irritated, I pick up a handful of snow and throw it to the door. It finally budges. 


I find myself in a room full of dolls that sort’ve creeped me out. I see my identical on top of a high old-fashioned stool. Slowly rushing up to it, being so excited, I trip on an old wooden doll on a bike. It creates an irritating ongoing squeak. I put it up on its wheels and rushes to the door. Bang! Bang! Bang! I look up to see that my identical doll isn’t on the high stool but on a shelf. Quite odd. I force and climb my way through the obstacles in my way, I can finally touch the doll. 


Reaching for the doll, I finally touch its nose. Flash… flicker, dolls. Just the most odd! It’s like my life flashed before my eyes. I scan around the room to see what has just happened “Click click”. I can’t move, my body is just frozen, just as I am scared stiff. I finally realise that I have become one of them. Such vague sight but thy lacked wisdom.

High Flying Giraffes

High Flying Giraffes

Click clock, click clock. Tiles fade into the distance. My steps echo in some sort of slow galloping pattern. I finally find myself walking upwards in a long, stretching spiral, feeling so compacted just by the strong smell of chlorine. Once the line stops, I get a tense, daunting sensation.

Realizing how high I am above the water, it leaves me completely star-struck. I freeze. I started doing breathing exercises that I learnt from my Tai Chi master. Picturing myself doing a superhero pose I gain confidence. Opening my eyes I see my friend, Floppa, dangling from the ceiling. I take one last breath and run as if I am being chased by a zombie. I leap, Floppa bites my chin and spins me around. I dive into the crystal clear water like a meteorite. 

Plummeting into the water, I feel so relieved. Opening up my eyes, water starts to rush in, making my vision all blurry and puffy. I hear a faint voice saying “Wake up, wake up!” but it didn’t bother me. 

Emerging from the water I see the ringmaster waiting for me. He comes up to me and gives me a medal. I am filled with joy! I could finally be a giraffe in a circus! I woke up and realized that it was just a dream. A dream of magnificence.




Peter’s Journey

As I limp through this stretching road. My feet start to become sore, making me feel miserable. I have been shivering for a while now, I need warmth, I need comfort.


For today’s blog, I wrote a short piece in 15 minutes. We started out doing freeze frames, describing how we felt if we ever were in a war; using it as a vocabulary for our writing.

Treasure Box

As I flee from my burning home, I grasp my guitar trying to get the fire off it. Its shiny, reflective terracotta and looks beautiful in the sun, making me yearn to play right now. I’ve always promised myself that if I had started something I’d have to finish it. I’d had just started learning the guitar and I’d hate to put an end to something that I’ve just started. I hesitate getting the fire off, having no choice to leave it burning. I close my eyes, running nowhere. I finally open my eyes, finding myself in the hands of a soldier. I glance at my guitar, seeing the shiny terracotta, still burning to a dark brown.









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