‘I hope you don’t expect any money, because I haven’t got any.’ ‘Right, I will be back in about an hour and see what you need,’ said Ria. Where are the truant officers these days?’ They play the wag and hang around the streets annoying folk. ‘Then I’ve got to go down and get my boys off to school.’ Mrs Henderson, I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ said Ria, checking the date on the milk carton. Hmmm, thought Ria, she had heard these stories before. Cruel devil won’t up my painkillers either maybe if he did I wouldn’t need a tipple.’ Would you like me to ring someone, maybe your doctor?’ I’m your only hope at the moment,’ said Ria sharply. ‘You’re new, aren’t you? I don’t like Maoris, or solo mothers.’

There she found an unkempt large woman with a bandaged leg lying on the floor. With one hand holding the hand rail and the other covering her nose and mouth, she gingerly made her way to the door. Halfway up the stairs Ria was hit by the smell of rotting food that was spilling out of bags onto the landing. ‘Man, you’re always thinking of your puku,’ his older brother teased.

‘Mum, where are you going?’ shouted her younger boy, Jason. Pulling on her dressing gown, Ria raced to the outside stairs. ‘Mum, wake up! I can hear someone upstairs shouting,’ said Anaru. Written by Kerry Montgomery (Short Story Writing for Magazines Course) Was it possible that the tree was talking to him, as he always heard the bells when the voice spoke to him? But that would be impossible, right? Its lanky branches hung lazily to the ground, covered in leaves of sea foam green.Īs he stood with his one hand cupped over his eyes, trying to see more clearly, he heard the sound of tiny bells ringing again, as the branches swung around in the breeze. Instead of the average 12 meters, this willow was so tall that he couldn’t even see the top from afar. It was the most majestic weeping willow he’d ever seen in his life.

‘Where are you?’įollowing the sound of the last words spoken, he looked up and saw the silvery blue light emerging from around a willow tree in the distance. He really didn’t picture death to feel like this. Magical and mysterious, it lures him to something he could not yet see, but he could feel in his bones that he’s been there before.įrantically he turns in all directions, searching for the owner of the voice. But if this is Heaven, why is it so dark and cold?’Īll of a sudden, a smoky blue light appears in the distance. I would’ve never been this brave in real life. ‘Of course’, he murmured, ‘I can’t be alive anymore. This time the only answer he receives is the faint sound of jingling bells. I’ve been waiting for you.’Įven though Jack is still convinced that no one is really talking to him, he can’t resist asking the voice a question, although he really doesn’t expect an answer. After a while the same voice speaks again, but more distant, like it’s traveling with the wind now. Enjoy! Written by Diandra ter Haar (Short Story Writing for Magazines Course)Īll around him, lonely crickets are calling for company and in his chest, his heartbeat is slow and steady, even though his mind is working overtime. There were thousands of great pieces to choose from, so we randomly selected excerpts from our list of favourites. The following unedited snippets of creative writing come from students’ assignments on our Short Story Writing Courses, Novel Courses, Scriptwriting and the Basics of Creative Writing Courses.

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