Ella D. Gajic

Creative Writing


who scooped me out? who took a spoon from their draw and just started digging. digging at my pure, white, vanilla flesh. now you have only my vessel left. did i taste sweet? cold? sharp? i bet i shocked you. numbed you. sent shivers through your bones. who were you to do this to me….

Creative Writing

Mirror Mirror

She looks in the mirror, doesn’t always plan it, can’t stand it. But she looks in the mirror each day the mascara brush, lipstick to lips, perfume spray – ‘go away!’   She looks in the mirror, sometimes she prays; sometimes she prays for it all to go away, away where she can spend all…

Creative Writing, Venue


I was moulded by the faded paving stones that ran up and down my grandmother’s street; I would jump over cracks in the concrete like my life depended on it, thinking I might slip between the fine lines and be consumed by the creatures lurking beneath the safety of this neighbourhood, my family, these doors…

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