Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Pocket Full of Stars
Pocket full of secrets
Belly full of stars
Buried deep in time and memory
Buried deep in my backyard
Posted inCreative Hall Lifestyle Short Stories
Infection
On the midnight of June 24th 2004 a biological research lab near the town of Yukagir, in the Far North of Russia, violently exploded. The lab, belonging to the research company BioIntel, had previously been under suspicion of conducting unethical “tests” on humans. Their goals have since been exposed. While previously branding themselves as simply an organization interested in the study of the human ability, we can now say for certain that the labs’ true purpose was to produce “superhumans”. Each year, men, women and children were captured and subsequently held captive, forced to consume dangerous chemicals in order to induce the creation of superhuman abilities. Products of this research can be seen in recently seized bioweapons: Humans made to kill.
Posted inCreative Hall Lifestyle Love and Relationships
Love Within The Walls
None of the walls in my homes recognize me. Not my touch, not my voice, not even the air of the presence I left behind.
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Sky
The year is 1941. Most landscapes in pre-independence Malaya are expansive. The paddy fields seem just as infinite as the seas that reach to the ends of the horizon. Living in the secluded villages of Kedah is a middle-aged man named Hadi. Like the rest of the village people, Hadi is Malay, and works out on the farm.
Posted inCreative Hall Lifestyle Short Stories
Remembering Living
“The thing about Alzheimer’s is that it’s sort of like all these little, small deaths along the way before they physically die.” -Lucinda Williams
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
The Forgotten Fairytale
Blank. It’s completely empty, washed anew like a white slate of stone. I wonder if stones are even white. I wish I could remember more. I desperately yearn to know the person I used to be.
Posted inCreative Hall Lifestyle Short Stories
A Conversation With My Younger Self
I don’t know what time it is, but it’s late at night. The both of us are perched on the rooftop, sharing a cigarette. I watch my younger self inhale and choke on the smoke. She clearly grimaces and hands it back to me. I inhale deeply, biding my time. The edge of the cigarette crackles as I slowly exhale into the cold, night air.
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
A Medley For The Moon and Stars
It was the last school recital night of the year; students, teachers and parents filed into the dark auditorium, eager to watch the show. Unbeknownst to them, it would probably be the worst one yet. As the lights dimmed around them, the curtains pulled back to reveal a magician and his assistant, the pair caught in a loud argument over a lost bearded dragon. It took them minutes to realise everyone had been waiting for them to perform. Quite literally, they were two deers caught in the headlights.
