Tag Archives: excerpt

Across The Rift – An Excerpt

Today I’d like to feature an excerpt from a piece of writing done by one of my students Rayner L., with beautiful descriptions and rich imagery. We welcome all constructive feedback and comments 🙂

The waves crept towards his feet, caressing his toes gently as they retreated from the shoreline, rolling back into the depths of the sea. The waves repeated, it was a cycle. The water glistened a vast canvas of blue, ranging from light aquamarine to a shade of azure, all the way to a dark turquoise, ending with a deep navy blue at the deepest end of the brine.

He took a deep breath, taking in the paradise that surrounded him. The scent of the sea breeze wafted in the air as the strong wind forced itself against him. He could see the oak wood planks sprinkled with sand making up the footpath that would not wade out further than shallow waters. He could see the coconut trees standing tall beside him, their leaves fanned out and their stems curved like whips, juicy coconuts hanging by threads. He could see the emerald green trees in the distance, on the other side of the shore, a place he had yet to have ventured to. He could see his lonely straw hut, built on blood, sweat and tears.

For as long as he could recall, this was all he had to call home. Despite that, he wanted more than anything to leave this sandbox, to explore the vast forest across the sea, to climb the sturdy trees, to feel the green grass on the other side. He was only divided by a rift, the cerulean body of water that separated him and his search for a better tomorrow. But he vowed to bridge the gap, to one day, set sail.

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Proximity

Come down and hug me.

She had missed his message, therefore hurried back towards the hall; the crowd was filtering out in the opposite direction.

As she entered the place, she saw him in the centre of the room, and she stopped a while at the entrance to watch him. The way he talked and laughed with the journalists, the charmer he was for the cameras. He was always meant to be there.

I’m so proud of you.

She was happy to be there, just watching him from the side, smiling to see him the way he was.

A proximity that was near enough, and they could never be closer.

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Daily Prompt: Anticipate

Time seemed to have stilled and
Rendered them motionless, except
Her quickened breathing and
Pounding heart; she could feel
His gaze on her, and she hung

Half fearful

Half yearning

On it.

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La Più Alta Poesia

There he was at the table, seated in a cane chair and casual grey pants, shirt casually unbuttoned and a glass of wine in his hand. Sultry was the afternoon except for an occasional summer breeze – a welcoming reprieve. As the town bustle and chatter filled the air, he turned his wrist and glanced down from behind his shades.

“Sorry I’m late!”

He looked up to see her walking briskly towards him, a smile on her face. He set his glass down, and as she arrived at his table, got up and removed his shades, a smile on his lips.

“Yes, you are.”

She grinned as they both settled into their seats and the waiter came with a menu.

“I’ll have what he’s having, thanks.”

He looked at her half-amusedly as she gave a little sigh and eased into her chair, putting her hair to one side as she did. Then, she turned to him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Well I kept my promise. Happy birthday!”

“Haha, yes you did.”

He took a sip from his glass, his eyes not leaving her face. She reached for her glass with a wicked smile.

“Amici e vino sono meglio vecchi.”

“Ha! Are you saying I’m old?”

“I’m saying we get better with age.”

“Indeed. Speaking of which…”

He caught the scent of her perfume as he leaned towards her. She watched him as he did, until he was just a breath away.

“…I’m better at writing now.”

“Are you.”

In that moment, a breath of wine, his fingers on her chin; a flick of her eyes, then the taste of his lips.

Il bacio è la più alta poesia dell’amore.

The greatest poem indeed.

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Shelter

Amidst the bustle of activity, something seemed to change, so quickly yet subtly. In place, there was an air of careful caution.

Dusk had fallen.

As you led the way trailing some others ahead, we laid our steps carefully enough to not wake the bodies sleeping on the ground. My eyes fell upon your back – you were broader and stronger than I remembered you to be. Falling around your shoulders, locks of hair glistened where it caught the light.

Deviating from them disappearing straight ahead, you turned right and I followed. We were met by a steep flight of wooden stairs leading down to an open doorway. A sharp draft gusted as we went down – it was a cold morning. Nearing the bottom of the staircase, I caught sight of a German shepherd, standing guard at the exit. Instinctively, I stretched out my hand and petted it, then you did too and it became friendly and did not bark. We got past it and were on our way.

“You’re not worried at all, are you?”

All I remembered was I was not afraid because it was a place I knew. You took my hand – it was an unsafe situation – then we went up a narrow flight of stairs, much like those one could see flanking a traditional Chinese performing stage.

Seeking shelter, we found ourselves at the entrance to a motel.

A man sat nonchalantly at the doorway which opened up to a troupe of Vietnamese ladies; they were rehearsing for their performance, dancing with strips of silk cloth. It was dinghy but clean.

You walked in to enquire of a lady perched at the counter if there were rooms; she replied in the negative. Turning around, you made your way pass the dancing ladies towards me. Arriving back by my side, you faced me looking weary, then gave me a gentle smile of apology. As we were about to leave, one of the ladies asked us where we were going, and where you were from.

As though in reply, you drew me into your arms and held me quietly. As I lay with my right cheek against your chest, an overwhelming comforting sense of safety flowed from my centre throughout my whole being, and I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

One of the ladies commented that you were a foreigner and another told her she had to remember your face if you were going to be working with them. Turning to us, she asked what you were teaching, in a language I understood but which you did not. I turned to you and translated what she said, but all you did was to gaze at me without a word, still that gentle smile on your face.

And in that long wait for your reply, time seemed to have stood still, before it all faded…

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Dark Waters Deep

He waited at the bridge
For the answer she would give
But was rudely shoved, plunging
To dark waters deep

When he awoke he’d lost
His memories in part
So the girl he’d once loved
From his life thus depart

A new chapter unfolds
A new love and new life
Yet strange dreams haunted
Of the past he left behind

It brought him determined
To delve, at the bridge
But was rudely shoved, plunging
To dark waters deep.

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Everred – Epilogue (Excerpt)

Intense, her memories
Unwavering, his feelings
Their worlds that meet
Yet pass, colliding.

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