What’s broken can be easily fixed.

Today I went to a creative writing club at my college. It was pretty good, definitely confirming what I want to do as a career in my mind. It’s great that most of my friends are writers, too.

Tomorrow I’m taking my brother to see Paranorman after college which should be fun!

Here’s some free flow writing I did in today’s class.

– From the perspective of a star.

It had been a long journey and a long time spent travelling endlessly. It had been painstakingly slow; and gave me a strange feeling, being all alone in such a blank expanse of sky. There was no sign of life for miles and nothing to do but carry on, tracing patterns in the sky. However I took pride in the fact that I may be the last shred of hope for someone on a lone planet. Their only glimmer of light in the sky to show them the way; or to be their ultimatum, the realisation of how grounded they are to this world, despite how lonely it can feel at times. I had done my job well, I thought, shining brightly, effervescently, relentlessly. However I was starting to burn out – so I figured it was time to return home; to the world that was so familiar once upon a time – but now I struggled to remember what it was like. Now conscious of the time that had passed; I paused to wonder – would everything appear the same? How much will have changed? I did not know – could not know, until my return. The universe is not constant, always expanding and changing, recreating atoms and stars out of dust.

-From the perspective of an outsider looking in.

The house was warm, and inviting. It seemed to glow even in mid winter, as if radiating warmth and positivity all year round, from its centre. Yet this house was out of the ordinary, there was something not right about the way the doors and windows were always shut and bolted across, as if withdrawing and locking its inhabitants away. It had an eerie feel, especially in the winter where the glow was unearthly. The tree situated outside looked especially sinister at night, with icicles decorating its wiry structure. The door was always heavily bolted, and told no tale of what went on within the walls. The house was usually manned by two ferocious dogs; and it was rumoured that they could smell a stranger from a mile away. What would happen should this door ever open, no one dared find out.


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