The Act of Writing

I'm not as proud of this piece, however I really love the idea and I spent a very long time on it. Chapter 1: Ticking Clocks and Heart to Hearts “Calm down! God, you look crazed, just sit down. Drink your cider. He’ll be here.” She tapped at Anna’s elbow, watching as her best friend half stood, half sat, nervously bouncing and eyeballing every person who walked through the door of the bar. “I can’t!” Anna hissed, her protuberant whiskey coloured eyes wide and staring, “I… I need this to be perfect. I’ve dreamt about it for so long.” Anna’s face was unusually wan, her fingernails more accurately described as stubs. Freya’s heart ached with sympathy. Anna had been on edge all week. Stress lines were almost constantly etched into her forehead and she had taken to watching every entrance in every place they went in public. Freya had been there the night it had started. She had gone to Anna’s place, bottle of wine in hand and a head full of entertaining stories about

This blog's purpose is to showcase any and all of my creative works. This is the piece I would say that I am most proud of, it having received a First from my university tutor. Five Minutes, Four Years Sunlight. A hard-boiled egg yolk in the crisp, cobalt sky. Nothing marred the wide expanse of blue, not even the faintest wisp of a cloud. Children were playing in the fallen piles of leaves, their screams and whoops of joy echoing through the streets of the quiet town. Mothers gossiped together on park benches, their hijabs fluttering slightly in the wind. A young couple sat on the grass – lost to another world. Nadiya stood, taking it all in. The rich scents of spices from the food vendors outside the park’s entrance intermingled with the smell of the damp earth in her nose; the vivid colours of passers-by’s clothing – royal blue jeans, blinding white trainers, a camel coloured trenchcoat – almost an eyesore in their multitudes.   The rumbling car engines and the rattle