Tag: short story

Creative Writing


When he saw Charlotte seven months ago, Harry got caught up in her face, lost in her eyes because of the way they shone when she smiled, lost in her hair when the sun met and entwined with it, lost in the small words she had said to him and the silence after them. Now,…


The short story: undeservedly undervalued

Over the last ten years, I have attempted to build up the most extensive knowledge I can manage (without those pesky life distractions getting in the way) of the short story form and its variety of modern and early writers. A shattered attention span, combined with a desire for fiction to be shorter and pack…

Creative Writing

Old woman on a bridge

An old woman sits on the edge of a wooden train bridge, her feet dangling high above a green lagoon, looking out at the ocean. The splintered, dark wood of the bridge smells of tar and wet soot. The faint sound of a horn makes the woman look away from the sea and down the…

Creative Writing

H after h

Hit with the hours of the day, I hurried to the quaint hut in which the vote was to take place. As I stepped over the threshold, hobbling from the hike I felt like I had just completed, I harmlessly swept my eyes across the room. The atmosphere felt cold, stale, and with a slight…

Creative Writing

Dreams and reality

Every night, my dreams get stranger, but then they always have been strange. I’m back at school – I go back there often – and it’s Monday, P.E. day, but I don’t have my P.E. Kit. It’s not just a P.E. day, it’s a swimming day, and I have to borrow a swimming costume, which…

Creative Writing, Venue


Decades after the Third World War ended in 2606, countries that swore bloodshed against each other banded together to fight against a greater force—the Hybridas. Hybridan for males, and Hybriden for females—were enhanced beings that possessed human features with the exception of reptilian scales scattered around their bodies. The whole world was buzzing with the…

Creative Writing

The Christmas my uncle came back

On Christmas morning I awoke, and emptied my stocking. Out poured the Horrible Histories annual, the gifts from Hawkins Bazaar, the Beano, the Toblerone, the mini Lego kit, the Maltesers box, the fruit pastilles, and then the satsuma at the very bottom. I ate that orange ball of vitamins first. Two hours later, at 8am,…

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January 2021
Latest Comments
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    Favourite song covers
    Ma’am, this is a Wendy’s
  • Avatar Scott B
    Favourite song covers
    Is this author 14 years old with absolutely zero knowledge on music? Has to be. Two out of three songs are irrelevant. Both by shitty bands. Who paid for this?…
  • Avatar theizzin
    Should we mourn GCSE poetry?
    Wonderful article! Very insightful and brilliantly communicated. I wasn't aware of this issue before, but this article has really brought it to light for me. Thank you very much!
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