Lightning and thunder.

The rain would soon follow them, seeping into the minds of men, soothing their uneasiness just before they hastily prop up their umbrellas. Shields. They would take larger strides than normal, making their way to the station to be hugged by the humdrum of life as the sky above ceases to distract them.

The screeching of the tram seemed to startle her, the pages of the book that her fingers were clasped on, softened and the book shut – abruptly.

Flona had been wrapped up in the pages of her book, in another world, until the real one came screeching. She had been reading on her chair, the one on her balcony that overlooked the tram station. That’s when she remembered. Her biscuits fell off the table and her tea jerked in its cup.

” Oh no,” she grabbed her coat,

“No no no no no !”

The front door slammed.

Her boots smacked the ground and she lifted her hood up as the rain began to pour. The tram had arrived 15 minutes ago. She was late.

Her phone vibrated once then twice as she took a shortcut, where spray cans littered the path and walls were etched with the scrawls of ever-changing teenage affection. Greeted by the coloured screens of the updating timetables, Flona made her way to gate 4. The seats there were unoccupied and the only thing that was present was the glowing LED lights. Flona reached for her phone,

” sorry honey, the tram is going to be a little late, I love you” – Mum (sent 3 minutes ago)

” Tram’s a bit late don’t worry about us, see you soon, love you” – Dad (sent 2 minutes ago)

Flona’s breath retreated and a huge sigh of relief followed. The last thing she wanted were wet and slightly disgruntled parents, she lifted up her hood that was beginning to slip.

Their visits turned from a semi-annual event to monthly surprises, she was given a days’ notice before their arrival. They were –

“The doors are now open,”

the announcement echoed,

“Please mind the gap.”

Sniffling, Flona made her way to where her parents stood. Before a word could be exchanged, her mother’s arms surrounded her.

” Good afternoon Flona,” Said her dad

“Good afternoon-”

“Dad,” Flona spluttered the last word, struggling in the tight embrace of her mother.

Bemused by his wife, he used this chance to carry on,

“I missed you so much, darling,”

“We both did,” added her mother, glancing at Flona who staggered backward.

” I missed you both as well,”

Her foot circling the ground, she carried on,

But you act like you haven’t seen me for such a long time when it has only been three weeks.”

“Well three weeks is a long time for us,” her dad replied.

With a shadow of a smile, Flona pulled her hood up once more as her parents opened their umbrellas. They stepped into the blur of the station, clouded figures in the rain.

Used tissues filled her pockets and a pinched red nose marked her face, but at least Flona’s lilac scarf matched her coat.

” I like your scarf, where did you get it from?” asked her mother

“Thank you, I made it myself.”

“You can knit? Since when?”

” I started five months ago”she said , taking out her keys.

The door swung to reveal a rather spacious apartment and an aging cat, sleeping.


Here’s my first chapter of my book that I will hopefully finish gahhh ahaha I would love to hear your opinions x



She was curled among the grass roots surrounded by the overgrown nettles. Untamed .
Her hair matches the faded colour of the

pile of dried wheat as it was ripped from the earth ; left to starve .
She was vulnerable
The wind petted her back soothingly as it passed: it acknowledged that the only moisture that the plants would receive will be her tears in abundance .

The bluebells were bereft of life and its colour resembled the bruises that the girls fingers had left in her arm .Her fingers, wet with with tears. She had began to rock herself gently , barely raising her head from the ground .She listened with her mood somber as the floods of grievances overwhelmed her .The hair on her arms had began to stand .
Her shuddering turned to shaking and to spasms. Emotional convulsions as she clutched at her chest.
In the midst of this, the debris on her head once was a collection of well kept golden threads . Her hair had gotten gradually darker as the wind returned but this time it belonged to the monsoon.
It came.
It came rowdy and uncivilised.It came enraged and savage . It’s clouds pelted the rain as it banged on house roofs and clawed at windows. The plants were the only thing that nourished in this revolution.

She wore the rain well .

The girl stood up and the thunder cackled whilst he light in flashes the sky like a warning signal. The girl had began to walk-she was coming .
The lightning’s reflection was in her eyes and the thunder rippling through her body.

She began to run


Short story ❤️


‘He runs and runs and never stops continuing for eternity-

near breaks and stumbles but promises that will not break keep him on his search for a remedy – 

the bonds that will be broken – 

the sacrifices chosen carelessly so the shadows will keep on chasing him so he stays running for eternity.’

– Shaza

Strange poem strange mood 


“In more contact with our ego than our individuality”-Shaza

We need to raise our self esteem by realising we were always beautiful .From there on we can focus on the important things like creativity 

Parallel lines

Parallel lines,

Disconcertingly similar

But not the same.

Parallel lines,

Never meet.

But we have,


Parallel lines, 

Go on forever.

But we can’t,

Not forever.

Not just degrees ,

Between us,

But worlds .

See you ,

Live in a book,

I read.”-Shaza

Plot twist