-
Arianna
Struggling against the current was not my style but somehow I had found myself stuck in that groove, a groove that seemed to be gaining momentum and felt like it was paralysing me. I had read literally hundreds of success stories, stories of rags to riches or of famous people, people who I respected and learnt that the majority of their lives had somehow ‘fallen’ into place. And I had developed this warped belief that there were a limited amount of opportunities that were divvied up at birth and doors that open at certain critical times in ones life. It was increasingly apparent I was starting to lose faith in myself, and worse,…
-
Heddy (aka Hedvig Tilly Sørensen)
I was born Hedvig Tilly Sørensen (aka Heddy) in an extremely small town called Toco (aka Shady Grove) Texas. I bet you thought I was going to say somewhere in Scandinavia coolish like Copenhagen, but alas no. My closest city and closest to Europe I had ever been was Paris, Paris Texas, USA. I had been in and out of numerous foster homes my whole life and never knew who my birth parents were until a weird synchronistic chain of events took place. Maybe fate, destiny, not sure, but here in this tiny town of Toco, population 89, one very small school and a weird landmark plane, I was found by a talent…
-
Rianne
Washington Square park was abuzz, nothing out of the ordinary as it was a swelteringly hot late summers day. Rianne darted, weaving in and out of the already crowds of milling people. She had woken up much earlier than her routine Wednesday where she normally would hop on her bike and ride madly across town to the small florist shop she sometimes worked part time in over the summer months. Rianne could hardly contain herself and hadn’t really slept the previous night. She was nervous as she was heading to an early morning coffee date. Rianne’s signature look was animal print, but particularly one proud leopard print outfit which already had a few…
-
Asher’s Haiku
Asher leaned in awkwardly to listen to what the other boy was trying to say. Although the boy’s whispering was muffled by the sirens constant whirring and screeching, it was now registering how severe a strike to the head his new friend had received. The boy seemed quite confused and disorientated and the gash that now adorned his forehead was confirming that this was very real. That evening had been a haiku kind of moment for the two boys. – excerpt from writings by Fiona Maclean