cupcakes-r-yum

Confessions of a Stairway The wind flows gently through his short hair. He runs his hand over his head briefly and sighs, eyes flickering towards the surfers out in the water. The boy next to him grimaces and shuffles his feet restlessly. He is wondering why his older brother dragged him out to this place anyway. Nothing special. Just a beach. He's seen beaches before. The younger boy jumps suddenly as his brother draws a sharp intake of breath. "What is it, mate?" The younger boy asks as he squints out at the surf. His brother doesn't answer, just walks down and jumps onto the sand, beckoning for his brother to follow. And so they both l

The Professor Melbourne, 1964 The clock struck eight. The professor glanced up quickly before bowing her head back down to continue on with her work. Her seemingly tireless hands effortlessly scribbled away at a worn out notebook, only stopping every now and again to bring a glass of water to her dry lips. A rattling heater shuddered away in the corner of the small room and the professor pulled a warm blanket further around her shoulders to keep out the evening's cold. The office door creaked open and a shivering, young man stepped in. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the professor to acknowledge him. Minutes passed. The man

Crash. The grey, silent houses loomed threateningly over the empty streets. A car zoomed past, rustling the memories that I know I had left behind. An old man, weathered and beaten, hurried past me, cursing strange words under his breath. I frowned as I watched the scene before me. Nothing, nothing at all could compare to the way I felt now. Everything was dead. Lifeless. Deceased. I held back tears and surveyed the house that was once mine. Mine. That word. So familiar. Yet so far off. Not one thing was mine now. Not one blessed thing. Not since I had run out. Run out of this life, this family. My family. My darling family. Oh, how you woul

The Sunless City The city exhaled darkness, smog slowly settling in a surreal cloud over the sinister skyline, blotting out the sun. The plastic trees at the town centre bowed submissively at the mercy of the cruel, cold wind as it howled, wickedly embracing the seemingly lifeless streets. A dog barked in the distance. A storm was brewing. The birds sitting in their plastic trees squawked and shuffled edgily. The barricade of soldiers on Main Street glanced at each other uneasily and brought their chins up just a little bit higher. Today would be a dark day. The first drop of rain fell just as Ms X the curator got out of her new, sleek, shi