Rachel Yan (10) | STAFF REPORTER
The client sitting across from Harris was prattling on. “And I feel like they just don’t get me, you know what I mean?”
Just A Chance
Category: Creative Writing
Eve
Oscar Sun (10) | STAFF REPORTER
Robert has been sitting in this café since morning. It’s evening now. The waiter has switched four times because it’s Christmas Eve and everyone wants to spend more time with their family. When the fifth waiter comes to replace the fourth, Robert can distinctly sense the tones of disdain in their conversation. Of course, who would want a customer stuck in their cafe the whole Christmas Eve?
Believing, Disbelieving (Part I)
Oscar Sun (10) STAFF REPORTER
After Death, Afterlife
His last moment is coming. I can sense it. I’ve been at his bedside, together with his family members. Although of course, they can’t see me. His family members have been in this spiraling depression for nearly two weeks, but I can’t help feeling cheerful. Some part of this is selfishness, but I believe that there isn’t a single soul that can resist the urge to speak with their lover, after being separated for fifty years.
Fairplay
Clare Wu (10) | STAFF REPORTER
Yin and yang, night and day. Deep, dark shades of midnight black among the purest of white. Pieces, standing straight and proud, unmoving, unfeeling. A king – To be protected at all costs. The queen – to rule in his place. A board – made of obsidian and ivory, ornate but so much more than just a decoration.
Time Machine
Anna Li (10) | STAFF REPORTER
A key fell from the sky.
To be precise, it fell from the ceiling of the girl’s washroom.
#ChallengesAreDangerous
Rachel Yan (10) | STAFF REPORTER
Emilia and Aaron crouched in the flowerbeds, concealed behind the porch steps. The dark mansion towered above them, the roof tapering into a steeple.
Boredom
Aashna Nadarajah (9) | STAFF REPORTER
Drip. Drop. Tick. Tock.
What’s to do? What’s to see?
I don’t know what to do with me,
The Lonely
Clare Wu (9) | STAFF REPORTER
Bright sunlight bounces off broken glass, streaks of golden light illuminating the room. An empty manor abandoned by all except the plant life, cracked wood, broken windows, and branches extending into the once-great hall. Dust notes twirl and dance under the sunlight, but no sound breaks the silence. No birds sing, no leaves rustle. The silence here, in this ruined house of memories, is awkward and stilted, all too human in its unnaturalness.
Justice
Rachel Yan (9) | STAFF REPORTER
James was taking the subway to school. I sat beside him, listening to the clacking of keys. He was typing out the essay that he hadn’t been able to finish because he had been visiting his mother last night.