The goal of the Writers' Circle is to:
- provide an authentic place to publish students' written work.
- improve students' writing through a peer-editing process.
Your writing is an expression of who you are, but good writing takes work; it is rarely a natural gift.
Let's use this forum to become better writers and editors!
The Last Sun-Rise
ReplyDeleteHe woke up in the middle of the night and stared at his beautiful wife: that might have been it. He looked outside the window and stared into the pale sky. It wasn’t yet a light pink, but it wasn’t dark blue either; it was undefined, just like his life had suddenly become. He slowly uncovered himself, trying to move the covers as little as possible. He stepped out of bed into his sleepers and put on his robe. It was early fall, so climate had just started to cool off. He slowly moved around the bed and stopped in front of his wife. She slept peacefully, and even though sleeping, she would still smile. He simply looked at her, trying to remember every inch of her, every little detail he could possibly gather. Slowly, he approached his face to her ear and whispered, “I love you”. A teardrop escaped from his left eye and went sliding down his cheek falling right beside his wife’s pillow. That might have been the last time he’d see her soundly dream, and he couldn’t waist a second.
After having a last glance at his wife, he tiptoed towards his son’s room, sitting again on the corner of his bed. The moon, now dying off at the horizon, proved the night was finally coming to an end, and again reminding him he had no time to waist. He looked at his son’s face, and again tried to memorize every detail he possibly could. He was a beautiful child, and daddy would surely miss his little adventurer. One more time, he reached out to his son’s ear and sweetly whispered, “I love you, even more then my own life”. He couldn’t help it anymore, so he silently sat at his son´s rocking chair and quietly sobbed. He would never forget them, and he promised himself he’d see them one more time. With this beautiful image of all of them once again together and heaving a good time, he cried himself to sleep.
The next morning, he woke up all sore from sleeping in a wooden chair, but it didn’t matter; his son had probably awoken in the middle of the night and had lied on top of him, sleep finding him in a serene sleep. He could still listen to the deep respiration of his wife, always following a steady pattern, then realizing it wasn’t yet time, and that he surely wasn’t going to wait no longer. Putting down his son in his bed, he walked outside the house, still wearing his robe in the chilly morning, and went towards the truck of his car: he grabbed his uniform and his heavy boots. After gathering in one arm all his clothes and closing the car with the other, he moved back inside the house and got the thick and resistant bag lied on top of the dinner table. He neatly folded the cloths in a methodical and practical way, gently putting them inside the bag. He went to the living room and got the gorgeous picture that included all of his family, folded it in half and slid in the middle of his white shirt.
The sun was rising now, turning the dark night into a orange and pink enlightened morning, and he then finally had to admit to himself: that ungrateful time had finally come.
****TO BE CONTINUED***
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ReplyDeleteGrowing Up
ReplyDeleteDear diary,
The day had started. It was a Monday. A chilly one, by the way. I don’t sound that excited and eager, but it’s because I’m sick. All my memories are confused, so I woke up and didn’t actually know what day was today and if I HAD school. Maybe that’s why my stomach is hurting, my head is aching and I’m on bed. Is it the flu? I bolted out of bed and tried to move my weak and anorexic leg. I started yammering to my mom from up the stairs. “What do you want,” asked my sister. “I want to talk to mom!”I tried to whisper.
After my mom heard my predictions and facts, she didn’t know what to do. But she was sure I couldn’t miss school, especially because this week we had to accomplish the MAP test. So, it was time for school!?!?
The bus’ stench endured the whole transport. I had to sit at the back row, because I wasn’t part of any “special” groups, as in: show off’s, gangsters and all the popular its. I was a normal kid. Well, I retake take thhhaaaaaat! Atchhhhhhin!!! Excuse me. I’m not the only one, but my best friend, Hannah, is also part of this peculiar group. She is tall, skinny, talented in everything (the exact opposite of me), organized and she loves any kind of pet, even my pet, The Lizard.
I don’t know how she can handle him. When a new student comes to our school, I invite him to my house, so he can feel comfortable with his new classmates. When someone has the chance to see my pet, he or she just runs away, like a little chicken. The only exception was Hannah, and that is one reason why she became my best friend. My pet, The Lizard, once ate my homework, literally, and the teachers didn’t excuse me. I was so frustrated that I wanted to step on him, until all his organs came out of his little and scaled body.
Sometimes I try to think of all my friends I had since I was five: one, two, three, four and five friends. Well, as you can see, not many, for someone who is in 9th grade. Some of my mates in the International School of Barcelona nicknamed me The Ambulant Dictionary. Was that an insult? Or were they trying to be nice? I actually don´t know.
I could feel we were reaching school, because the freezing and hueless air surrounded the nauseating bus. To be continued…
The two brothers dashed across the pitch-black hallways that smelled awfully… old. Catherine and Jack knew the walls were full of Egyptian hieroglyphs and drawings. The ground was hard sand, somehow lumpy but “walkable” in. But that didn´t mean you could run in it. They would trip and sometimes even fall, but they would eventually catch up to each other. They huffed as they both were carrying something, Catherine with her coffee-colored-paged Ancient book and Jack with his scimitar.
ReplyDelete“Left!” Catherine shouted back to her brother as he was bumping against every possible turn. She followed the unknown voice in her head. He hit flat on the wall as she stopped once more after hearing the loud BAM. “Can´t you hear me?”
“Dude! Say it earlier!” He frowned as he massaged his sweaty, short, black hair and looked for his scimitar that fell from his hand. Catherine rolled her eyes as she continued her run. “Use your powers more appropriately! Wait!”
“We have to get it back, Jack! Imagine what he is going to do-“
“We have to be calm, Cat. With stress, we will be ignoring what Grandpa said to us.” He said as he chased after her. She swallowed the tears back to their place, but a drop managed its way down her cheek.
“Jack, I know. I´ll never forget what he said to us before we took off to those stupid boarding schools in England.” She mumbled. “If that teacher hadn´t blamed us for everything that happened that day, we wouldn´t have had to part ways with him.”
“The door is to our front. I sense him there.” Catherine said as firmly as she could. She wiped her face quickly and let her black, medium hair loose. They would soon encounter their worst enemy. She felt the cold, golden door with her finger-tips, the patterns showing up in her mind. She got her blunt bangs in her hand and held them down with her eye of Ra adornment, while Jack held tightly his own eye of Ra necklace with his left hand.
“Don´t let him get to you, Catherine. You know I´m with you.” Jack said to his older sister. A bright light came out from the gaps in the door. He would always be the one to give advice to her when she felt down because of what happened. “Go ahead, open the door.”
To be continued…
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ReplyDeleteThe Pen Drive
ReplyDeletePrologue
While running in the dark and cold ventilation corridors of the Ministry of War, Summer Churchill knew she had only five minutes until Everything was forgotten; the Pen Drive showed her that. She had to get to the main floor before the timer ended, otherwise Everything would be forgotten. She had no time. She continued running as fast as she could until she heard a noise. “We found her!” she heard someone shout. “Block the entrance to the main floor!” the voice said. She ran faster and faster, and finally found what she was looking for. A hole, black and round, going straight down for darkness. “Time to remember”, she thought as she jumped.
Chapter 1
“How you may know, students, Pope Ob IV lives in the World Space Base, halfway between the Earth (“the Pope saved it!”) and the Moon (“the Pope blessed it!”), where there are...Summer wasn’t listening to her History professor. It didn’t matter whether the Pope lived in the Earth, Moon, Mars or Pluto. She was thinking of her future. After she finished High School (six years of banal and superfluous subjects) she would go to the Bos-Wash-Atlanta Axis and study Politic Sciences. She wanted to be a Justice in the International Supreme Court (ISC) and serve for life. “Only three people have this chance at a lifetime”, she thought dreamily.
“Ms. Churchill, please answer to the question!” shouted the professor.
“What?”
“How many Popes did humanity have since the NEED started?”
“Um, han...three?”
“That’s incorrect again, Ms. Churchill! It is the fourth time in this week! You will get extra assignments to do at home!”
“No”, she thought, angry. Why she was always wrong? Why Jack Stalin and Maya Zedong always got everything right in this class? Why they were so...perfect?
TO BE CONTINUED...
(Note: The assingment is to publish one of our Freewrites. So this isn´t a story.)
ReplyDeleteToday´s Freewrite topic is about peanut butter. Here in Brazil I have only found one store that sells peanut butter. The store is named Festival and it is on the main road in Santa Felicedade. The peanut butter is in a tiny container and it costs about 18 R$. That is about 10 dollers. That store is the only store that sells American food. It has maple syrup, doughnuts and real marshmellows. There is also the candy bar twix and crunch there but you can find those at about any store. The doughnuts aren´t like the ones in the States, these are different but still are really good. They have lots of frosting but not so much that it makes you sick. So now Festival is one of my favorite stores. They also have empanadas there which I love. Well I love empanadas but not necessarily the ones at the store. We have a place near our house that sells really good empanadas...