Friday 8 September 2017

The piano - Creative writing

Here are a few sections taken from a few of our students' creative writing. Well done guys - some outstanding writing!


Ieuan - ...Hiding behind a tree I hear a strange sound, a melodic sound of pain and sorrow, heartache and loss. Moving out from behind the tree I see it. In the middle of no man’s land stands a piano with a soldier playing it. His fingers weave a tale of sadness that could never be described. The screams of jets and bang of bullets dissipated in this melodic moment. ...

Finn - ...The tune was soft, like grass on a summers day. It filled me with warmth, making my mind drift back to my childhood. The melody carried itself through the trees, causing soldiers to look up in confusion. He ignored them, and continued to play. His fingers were long and swift, like a magician, whizzing across the keys at a perfect pace. When his song stopped, it seemed all war had stopped. It was silent...

Sean - The smell of smoke was thick in the cool morning air. For a moment every thing seemed peaceful, but like many other mornings before it would not last. ... ...The gunfire began to sound again. I ran as fast as I could to the safety of my dugout. But then I heard something sweet and majestic, it was drawing me I could not stop my legs from walking to the song. Slowly I broke into a run and there it was a solitary piano in the middle of a single square of ground. ...

Sydney - ...The gust of wind made the trees shiver as if they are alive. I went around one of the trees… There one of the Russian soldiers was standing right next to a piano. I had a clear shot. But something stopped me. I was curious about what he was going to do. I waited. Then he started to play. The piece was familiar....

Jack E - ...Paths made by tears on his ash stricken face snake out like tree roots. His eyes red from crying. Suddenly he reaches out and hugs me with his bloody arms, sobbing into my now wet shoulder....

Tabitha - The distant crackle of gunfire and whistling bullets over ride my eardrums. I advance, careful to step in only the steps of my fellow soldiers. Feeling depressed about the situation I'm in, I abandon the group for a while, mental health break, as my friends call it.  Trudging through the piled snow, I am finally able to inhale lungfuls of better-than-on-the-battlegrounds air. It's silent. But only for a second.... ... The sight before me is the polar opposite of what I would've expected. A Nazi soldier playing a beautiful Beethoven piece. Listening intently, I creep closer....

2 comments:

  1. Wow that is some amazing writing. Well done to everyone. I love Ieuans... Hiding behind a tree I hear a strange sound, a melodic sound of pain and sorrow, heartache and loss. And great personification by Finn in this... The melody carried itself through the trees. What gave you the inspiration to write these brilliant pieces?

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