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“Lost Memories”
Will Heseltine
I walk down the corridor, remembering how I used to be able to run, slide, laugh along
and down these halls. Not as fast as I once was.
I go down the stairs, with hand firmly on the banister. I remember how I used to slide on
the banister, not hold it. Sometimes vault it. Not as brave as I once was.
I pass my housekeeper. ‘Morning!’ she says. I don’t reply. I remember how I used to have
long conversations for hours while I helped her clean and tidy. Not as kind as I once was.
I reach the breakfast room. I sit down, my little dog sits on the floor beside me, wanting
a stroke or perhaps some of my breakfast. I drop a small piece of bacon on the floor and
pat him once. I remember the hours I used to spend rolling around with him in the grass.
Not as loving as I once was.
I walk to my happy place, on top of a hill. I sit down in one of the sun loungers that I
sometimes spent hours in, relaxing and contemplating life. I look to my left and see her.
She smiles, and I smile back. I remember how I used to … I used to … I used to.
I can’t. There is nothing, I feel nothing, I recognise nothing. I try one last time.
But that memory is lost.
“Gravestone”
Teddy Barlow
An encircling gloom of darkness
enthralled the landscape,
Like a disease desperate to
smother its victim.
Rain dropped onto the solid hard ground,
Echoing the song like a ripple in a pond.
The wind, a silent beast
waiting to howl its call,
Surrounding the Earth like
a beat from a drum.
Gravestones stood like shards of glass,
Dotted around insignificantly,
a grey savannah.
Spirits crying like a hunter’s horn.
Waking the dew from its earthly sleep,
Trees broken by the menace of frost,
Leaving the roots to rot
beneath the cold light.
Beneath this slaved forest,
A mountain will stand immune
to the gods of nature,
Beyond the beating wings of old walls,
The ghoul-like vulture of tyranny,
Strangled ruins of weed-covered shadows,
Drowned voices, shattered dreams.
Behind this ravished land,
There lies a masterpiece of expression,
Standing proud, motionless.
There lies a conqueror of conquerors,
A gravestone polished by rain;
There lies life.
“Moroccan Desert ”
Salman Al Saud
The view of the desert was so beauteous
and hypnotizing that for a second I forgot
about the scorching heat that penetrated
my skin. The sky above looked like strokes
of water colour, with patches of red and
blue, and at some points they joined to
form a shade of violet and purple. There
were many dotted clouds above, and
they looked like a cotton-collage in the
sky. But it was the bright sun that was
the most attractive. It looked like a gold
plated sphere that was decorated with
ruby stones, shining so brightly that it
illuminated the sand underneath.
Just when I climbed the steep hill, I was
aware of the panoramic view that caught
my eyes. As I turned around I saw the huge
ocean of orange yellow sand that covered
many kilometres. The sand dunes looked
like the folds of a perfectly smooth silk
cloth that wrapped the area around me.
There were thousands of hills in every
direction, and all of them stretched widely
across the area, as if the land was affected
with sand pox. That was when I realized
that God was a very creative artist to paint
this stunning, flawless and perfect painting
of the desert landscape.
There was sand in front of me, behind me,
on all sides and underneath me. Gazing at
the distant view, different emotions filled
my heart like unity, loneliness, perfection
and silence. It frightened me that this
huge desert was formed when thousands
of grains of sand united together. Yet it
felt lonely, as there was a lack of visible
life in the desert. There were only a few
cactuses and they were the only green bit
in the desert. There were many insects and
reptiles around, but they were underneath
the heaps. But the desert was perfect, with
the smooth sand dunes blending with the
setting sun. I couldn’t see any rocks or
boulders, and every area of the desert was
smooth and undisturbed. It was silent, and
the only sounds that I heard were the wind
blowing the sand away, and the Moroccan
eagles squawking above me.
Far away, half of the sun had already
dipped into a hill of sand. I could see
a few caravans approaching a nearby
tent. The camels and horses looked tired
and dehydrated after a long day in the
scorching desert without shade or water.
As warm winds began to invite the arrival
of night, I took one quick glance at the
view below me and began to walk down
the hill, feeling my feet sink in the sand.
Walking towards the tent, I could think
of nothing but the feeling of cold water
flowing through my throat and emptying
my thirst into a feeling of satisfaction and
fullness. All the energy in me was drained
out and only the thought of water made
my feet walk, taking one step at a time.
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