Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
The Hand of God
Act 1 THE CHORUS: “And so there the watchmen stood In crooked bow and gloomy mood Tumult and thoughts in silent brew In shadow, amongst the stony few.” “Vigil” in…
Posted inCreative Hall Poems
the plum you’re meant to eat next summer
last summer when i was busy falling in love with you, i couldn’t see anything else. when we gathered in the living room sitting cross legged, you turned off the…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Good Girls Go To School
“Aisha, wait up!” Maria called up at the top of her lungs as she ran towards her friend, who was already a step away from leaving the school gates. Her…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Foxglove
When she opened her eyes, all she could see was blue. Her head throbbed something fierce, like she’d fallen face-first into the wrong end of a blender. It took a…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Unseen Hues
Cian The night cloaked us in a moonlit chill as I sped down the cherry-petalled boulevard. Crisp, spring air filled my car when Kael rolled down his window. His second-last…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
Isidora
I face most encounters alone. I’ve gotten used to being by myself in my experiences – the good, the bad, the in-between – meeting different people, and visiting all the…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
To Rescue A Father
VIDEO TITLE: GEO NEWS LIVE - LATEST NEWS 24/7 CHANNEL: GEO NEWS TIME: 8.00PM, MARCH 17 2013 ALT TEXT: The news reporter is delivering the news. Two pictures are shown…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories Uncategorized
Petals Between Us
The sakura tree by Halcyon Library, just beyond the old campus, has always been our shared anomaly. All throughout our senior year, we would have our clandestine rendezvous every night…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
The Lone Hyacinth
“My Fair Lady cloaked in deep royal purple, How is life over yonder? A place between the heavens and below, What a place to rest, to respite, to rise.” A…
Posted inCreative Hall Short Stories
in root, rot and bloom
Howard McFarland kissed the little crown of his daughter’s head and stroked the soft brown fuzz of her hair. She didn’t stir. She was sprawled in her crib with a…