It must be a cohesive story. Be creative, and think of the different types of lists that will enable you to tell a story. ...

The grand ballroom, adorned with gilded tapestries and crystal chandeliers, exuded an air of regality. A long wooden banquet table groaned under the weight of sumptuous dishes—roasted meats, spiced pies, and honey-glazed treats. At its head sat Prince Hanlen, the youthful heir to the throne, enraptured by the dancers and musicians gracing the celebration. The glint of authority in his eyes matched...

energy is a wild thing,

it surges through us like a storm

sometimes, it rages,

threatening to tear us apart

other times it whispers,

a gentle breeze against our skin.

we try to contain it,

to harness its power.

but-

it cannot be tamed.

it flows freely,

endlessly

we feel it in the sun's warmth

in the wind's embrace

in the laughter of children

and the beat of our hearts

energy is a force to b...

Our village is beautiful.

Although the earth is cracked, and the goats are thin, and the rain never pours, we are too young to know any different. Each day is filled with joy.

In the evenings, we sit together by the fire. Mama ladles out thick globules of stew that has been simmering for hours, whilst Baba tells us tales of lands far away from our own. Bibi dances alongside her friends, shakin...

Officer Lakhani glanced upwards, wiping away a bead of sweat that trailed down the side of her forehead. The rickety ceiling fan spinning leisurely above her head proved no match for the afternoon sun that blazed mercilessly through the netted windows.

Only five minutes left on the clock. And boy, was she glad to be finished.

As Rea waited for the second hand to tick upwards, her eyes linger...

1375

Ibrahim Bakir dipped the slender tip of his qualm into the sooty black inkwell. Despite the afternoon sun radiating through the open windows, the ageing scribe’s eyes strained with fatigue.

All around him, the sights and sounds of the Great Kingdom of Mali blended into a cacophony of shrieks, bleats and yells. Arabic market sellers bartered their goods in a guttural resonance whilst trav...

Adamu Otieno raced down the busy road on his rickety bicycle, feeling the warm Mombasa breeze brush past his face. The cobalt blue paintwork had faded long ago, but the good-natured twenty year old did not mind. His bicycle got him to all the places he needed to be, and for that he was grateful.

He had one more stop to make before he could finally call it a day and head home. As Adamu approached...

Never did I ever reminisce

No memory of ours did I miss

Nothing will change what you put me through

Nobody hurt me as much as you

No more empty truths will I unweave

No apology will you receive

Never will you mend my broken heart

Nor will you have the final laugh

Not a single tear will I shed

No, I’ll stab you in the back instead!

Not holding back, for in the end

Betrayal is the sweetest ...

The spider weaves her crystalline

Design, it glimmers in the light

Beguiled into her web of lies

A cruel demise awaits the fly

The mouse creeps softly through the night

Invisible to all, but owl

Swiftly, the wisened bird takes flight

Too late, mouse glimpses eyes of brown

The wily snake will bide his time

For unsuspecting passers-by

Tail strikes! It’s time to utilise

Aggressive forms of mim...

Something was wrong.

As the Prime Minister of Great Britain stood on the stage, smiling wide for all to see, he couldn’t shake off that feeling of unease.

He slowly scanned the crowds, looking for any sign of disruption. Something out of place. Someone moving too quickly.

All seemed fine, for now.

He shuffled the papers of his speech, out of habit. His team had worked on this for hours. An...