Tag Archives: writing


Everyone knows about the `luxurious` sofa. It was owned by a billionaire, yet no one knew the true story except from me- Dawid. In the middle stood a house( actually a mansion), one man lived there. He had no family except from his pet, fluffy, a rabbit. While the man sat on the couch, he heard whirling noises outside. In front of him was a gigantic tornado. The man died brutally. Next day, the only thing that remained was the cozy couch and the rabbit lay still on the couch. No one knew what happened. I was his new neighbour.


When the metallic rocks crush and scrape each other leaving your heart to tingle ; when the rough,fierce water splashes it’s waves leaving ripples;when the noisy horns of ships block your ears,then you know you are near the Aran Islands of the west coast of Ireland. We finally reached the place of mum’s childhood. She smiled happily as she smelt the revolting sense of fishes spreading onto our clothes. This was definitely not the place  for spending Christmas. It was just too bad. There were rusty old boats with no colour at all. We only ate fish. Terrible, just terrible. Is this a dream,or nightmare?