Creative Writing / 14/09/2021 Different upbringings – and how they have affected your life

When she was born she looked like a rat. Never liked rodents. Beastly. Upsetting, it was. Only for a tic. But that’s not all true. Dear, oh dear, what must I sound like? Again. When she was born I did not know how to hold her because I have never held a thing of such...

Creative Writing / 14/09/2021 Nature vs Nurture: The Problems of Perception

Past – I know my past. Really, who else can truly know my past like I do? Although I can’t remember as many details about my early childhood as my parents might, it is I who knows my past self more than them. How, after all, would they truly be able to understand my past...

Creative Writing / 14/09/2021 Ladybirds

Once upon an English summerThe ladybirds inhabited my cupboard,A single wooden lockerScantily speckled with 10p tins,Musty grains and 70 proof liquor.“Accommodate them”,The platitudes of the past spoke to me“You’re now in their territory.” Once upon an English summer,In my pursuit of diligenceI set out a few strawberriesFor those that colonisedThe rest of my sustenance.“It is...

Creative Writing / 17/08/2021 Supersonic Highway Regrets

Effy felt every indentation, curve, and bump of the throttle embed itself into her skin as she jammed it down.  Half-baked sentences fizzled out and crisped away to ash in her head like burnt bacon while memories rattled and bounced around like pennies in an empty can. Behind her, the hills began to slowly vanish....

Creative Writing / 17/08/2021 Fractured Friendships

You were numb, but it had to be done. You told them straight up that you two were growing apart. That you no longer felt good for each other. They had stopped confiding in you, you knew that much, but you didn’t know why. You knew they made you feel awful, like you were walking...

Creative Writing / 17/08/2021 23

I’ve been gathering books on my shelf like shells. Like oddly shaped stones against tarmac and shards of glass that glitter in street lights at night, when I’m tipsy on wine and pretty girls, and the yellow glow makes them look like fairy dust, treasure that I scatter around my room like wishes. I’ve been...

Creative Writing

Creative Writing

Ladybirds

Once upon an English summerThe ladybirds inhabited my cupboard,A single wooden lockerScantily speckled with 10p tins,Musty grains and 70 proof liquor.“Accommodate them”,The platitudes of the past spoke to me“You’re now in their territory.” Once upon an English summer,In my pursuit of diligenceI set out a few strawberriesFor those that colonisedThe rest of my sustenance.“It is…

Creative Writing

Supersonic Highway Regrets

Effy felt every indentation, curve, and bump of the throttle embed itself into her skin as she jammed it down.  Half-baked sentences fizzled out and crisped away to ash in her head like burnt bacon while memories rattled and bounced around like pennies in an empty can. Behind her, the hills began to slowly vanish….

Creative Writing

Fractured Friendships

You were numb, but it had to be done. You told them straight up that you two were growing apart. That you no longer felt good for each other. They had stopped confiding in you, you knew that much, but you didn’t know why. You knew they made you feel awful, like you were walking…

Creative Writing

23

I’ve been gathering books on my shelf like shells. Like oddly shaped stones against tarmac and shards of glass that glitter in street lights at night, when I’m tipsy on wine and pretty girls, and the yellow glow makes them look like fairy dust, treasure that I scatter around my room like wishes. I’ve been…

Creative Writing

Hoping for the best but…

When I was little my birthday was my absolute favourite day of the whole year. I looked forward to it, loved everything about it. I loved opening presents, I loved choosing the flavour of the cake (chocolate), and I loved the special sense of attention that came with being the birthday girl. A day that…

Creative Writing, Venue

My Library

The Library is situated on the landing. It took six men to get it into position on September 13th last year. My uncle had bought the phone box for me at an auction, thinking I’d like it for the yard, but it was too handsome to leave outside, and I’d always wanted my own little…


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

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