He sits hunched, the crown of his skull as devoid of hair as his jaw. He sits and scribbles. Sometimes his pens scratches wildly, tearing
Category: 2nd Year – Life Writing
The Raisin
The Raisin gathers sweat from my fingertips They are greasy now. The dead relative of the grapes in my ruck sack; excreting final fluids onto
Irún Train Station
Sitting in a train station; waiting for a train. The walls are white, the ground is cold and stone. The Sun shines, winter warm, outside.
Cafe Folk
Café – 3 people. 10am 24/09/2015 Person Number 1 who has no name for those of us who watch in the café’s cannot assign names,
A Brighter Outlook
Taking things out of context makes them difficult to understand, but I wonder if its ever possible to get the entirety of context without actually
A Storm Beneath the Clouds
A Storm Beneath the Clouds I gaze down upon the untouched landscape beneath me. Uncorrupted, desolate and beautiful. I rest my tired legs and attempt
Existing in the Moment
The stretch of earth, sky and mountains makes me feel both free and trapped as the infinity of nature consumes me. I am both immersed
What If…
Sometimes, in the morning when I wake up before you and you are lying next to me, smothered in sleep , with thick, sweet air
Growing up
I am studying at Napier University in Edinburgh and have done now for almost two years. the only ‘grown up’ thing I have done in the beautiful city
People Watching
A group of young girls sit at the table, giggling and laughing to themselves. They cluster around one girl in particular – the Birthday Girl.
everyday journey to Uni
TO It’s freezing without gloves, but the walk is too short to bother. Sky is still grey – Sun isn’t sure if it wants to
Betty
She’s young. Her body, smooth and full of curves, is bronzed. As if straight from the beach. But recently untouched. Neglected. Stroking the silver mental
Hospitals
Here I was, at the hospital again. There we were, at the hospital. I rushed away from the bus that had delivered me, hoping I
A Canteen Man
Her eyes are fixed on a computer screen. She is reading. Her big, blue eyes surrounded by eyelashes thick and heavy with mascara. On her ears headphones; hands on
People-watching
He’s sat at the next table opposite me, solitary and serene whilst absorbing the surroundings. His skin is the colour of dark chocolate and his
A walk home
I can hear my feet scuffing the pavement over Nuovole Blanche and take a mental note to buy noise cancelling headphones. But then I wonder
