Palegg_Icy History_Down Right Writer_A Dream's Walk
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Palegg
It is lockdown level 5 and we are not permitted to leave the house except for essentials. Even my daily walk along the beach shore is forbidden. We are marooned on an island with each other, in this home. I can feel myself retreating into another Winter depression. My writing has all but dissipated altogether as I find myself day in and day out void of motivation for anything beyond the perfunctory day to day tasks. Like dishes. Or brushing my teeth. Showering some days and staying in my pyjamas all day on others, hair greasy and unwashed. Pierre is much stronger than I, waking early each day ...
Icy History
I go over to the window, and rub the mist off, relishing the cold warmth of it.Looking out of the window, I’m immediately hit with how white and grey everything looks.The trees have ice falling off their leaves, looking half green and half white like that sweater I wear sometimes.The houses are covered almost completely, and the windows have icicles creeping on the glass like branches of a tree.The cars in the driveways are capped with snow, the windows having obscene words written on them by obscene people.The ground is untouched, smooth by layers and layers of the snow that had fallen last n...
Down Right Writer
“25 Job offers and not one that I woulwww.onedoor.ccd ever take,” Mat muttered under his breath reading through the papers again before looking up from his desk. He was trying to get a new job to get out of the stinky, dingy little office where all he did was sign paperwork and reread the same exact magazines over and over again as though it would get the office more sales. He brushed aside his long black hair and looked out the foggy window to the port below. No wonder they didn’t get many sales, they were right next to a fishing dock that was hardly ever used because of how foggy it was. You could hardly...
A Dream's Walk
All Hobart Armstrong wanted was to be an Olympic medalist. He dreamt it. He visualised it. He talked it. He lived it. Growing up wasn’t much of fun to him. His parents had been separated since he was four. He usually told anyone that asked of his father that he hadn’t seen him before. This was because he had only a brief moment with him. Though, his mother wasn’t always pleased with such statement. His parents met when his mother travelled as an expatriate to a country kilometres away. They were just acquaintances later they became inseparable like eye and needle. Sheila had a soft spot for Cy...