Creative Writing / 16/11/2021 What A Wonderful Winter World

Even before you open your eyes, you know it’s brighter than usual. That something has happened overnight. Something magical. Your eyes flutter open, darting towards your bedroom window, where a sliver of light peeks through. A small smile flashes onto your face as you sit up, noticing the cold, crisp air for the first time....

Creative Writing / 16/11/2021 An Ordinary Man, and Extraordinary Day

Mr Jones liked to think that ordinary was better. If youíre ordinary, you’re neither noteworthy for being smart, nor noteworthy for being dumb; neither talented nor useless. If you’re altogether B grade, do a bit of everything relatively well, then you slide right past othersí peripheral visions. He took pride in the fact he was...

Creative Writing / 16/11/2021 A Divorce from Tradition

2012. Christmas with Mum. You’ve been told to act normal, so you’re singing while you bring the coal but now you’re singing solo. There’s still just as much food, just as much drink, but no matter how full you stock the cupboards, something in the kitchen is missing. The tree is up, the lights are...

Creative Writing / 26/10/2021 A Wife of Bluebeard

You tell yourself you loveThe prince who dashes inWho storms the castleAnd slays the dragonAnd takes away a part of you in doing so.You tell yourself you’ll learn to love BluebeardIf it means you can avoid the chopping block. You insist you like the inferno,The desire is the fire and it burns beautifullyBut it leaves...

Creative Writing / 26/10/2021 Who Needs a Prince?

I am not your typical fairy tale figure. My name is Princess Helena, but most people call me Princess Charming. I think they’re trying to be funny because no-one would ever refer to me seriously as ‘charming’. I’m no dignified princess, I’d rather be riding my horse at full speed through the forest than sitting...

Creative Writing / 26/10/2021 La Diablesse: monster of men

“Who don’t hear does feel,” a phrase drilled into Nita all her life. First as a stark warning by her parents, whose household rules she’d discarded in favour of rebellion, of putting distance between the versions of herself she wanted to be, and was expected to be. Again by her teachers, who expressed a never-ending...

Creative Writing

Creative Writing

What A Wonderful Winter World

Even before you open your eyes, you know it’s brighter than usual. That something has happened overnight. Something magical. Your eyes flutter open, darting towards your bedroom window, where a sliver of light peeks through. A small smile flashes onto your face as you sit up, noticing the cold, crisp air for the first time….

Creative Writing

An Ordinary Man, and Extraordinary Day

Mr Jones liked to think that ordinary was better. If youíre ordinary, you’re neither noteworthy for being smart, nor noteworthy for being dumb; neither talented nor useless. If you’re altogether B grade, do a bit of everything relatively well, then you slide right past othersí peripheral visions. He took pride in the fact he was…

Creative Writing

A Divorce from Tradition

2012. Christmas with Mum. You’ve been told to act normal, so you’re singing while you bring the coal but now you’re singing solo. There’s still just as much food, just as much drink, but no matter how full you stock the cupboards, something in the kitchen is missing. The tree is up, the lights are…

Creative Writing

A Wife of Bluebeard

You tell yourself you loveThe prince who dashes inWho storms the castleAnd slays the dragonAnd takes away a part of you in doing so.You tell yourself you’ll learn to love BluebeardIf it means you can avoid the chopping block. You insist you like the inferno,The desire is the fire and it burns beautifullyBut it leaves…

Creative Writing

Who Needs a Prince?

I am not your typical fairy tale figure. My name is Princess Helena, but most people call me Princess Charming. I think they’re trying to be funny because no-one would ever refer to me seriously as ‘charming’. I’m no dignified princess, I’d rather be riding my horse at full speed through the forest than sitting…

Creative Writing

La Diablesse: monster of men

“Who don’t hear does feel,” a phrase drilled into Nita all her life. First as a stark warning by her parents, whose household rules she’d discarded in favour of rebellion, of putting distance between the versions of herself she wanted to be, and was expected to be. Again by her teachers, who expressed a never-ending…

Creative Writing

Memory Loss

My name is Lucy Greenland. I’m 56 years old. I have three sisters, and a brother. I had a brown Labrador called Billy. My parents were teachers. I broke my arm once whilst riding my bike. I had a red cast on for eight weeks. My favourite colour is orange. I wanted to be a…

Creative Writing

Fracture

before I realise that I am dreaming Falling i am walking to the tower, (the same I walk round every day to watch the waves come home), and all is as it should be except it’s quieter, grayer and My limbs pinned to my sides so I cannot even writhe, worm-like in the quieter gray…

Creative Writing

The Mirror

As I study the face I see before me,Old but with wisdom in those lines,The wrinkles tell a story of who they were,When they laughed, and when they cried. I look at the woman quietly sitting there,Her hair so short, fragile, and grey,Quite a contrast to the fiery red locks I had,That I walked proudly…


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The University of East Anglia’s official student newspaper. Concrete is in print and online.

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