#creativewriting

The Minimalist Lifestyle Community Prompt

A sensory poem about the polluted world.

ENGLISH Hi, friends, how was your week? It’s been quite a while since I’ve written here—the last time was a little over two years ago. Yeah, that’s a long time. But for the past few days, I’ve been thinking

A cup of coffee is on the table, steam rises from it with the calmness of a Buddhist monk. I take it to drink, I feel fluffy and warm. While my husband is playing with our bird, Bekatcho, Bekatcho sings

A whimsical poem about the changing weather.

Hola, querida comunidad de #Ecency. Hoy quiero compartir con ustedes un ejercicio de escritura creativa inspirado en una pieza de arte abstracto que capturó mi atención por completo. Se trata de una obra

‎There was a time I needed to be somewhere, it happened that mum helped me pack a few stuff, I was busy with something so I couldn't pack all I needed. While packing, mum asked if I needed a particular

My firstborn was a very active boy. During our stay in Baba Hassan's house, he loved exploring grasshoppers. Sometimes, he and his friends would build houses out of clay for these grasshoppers. One day,

The Ghost on the Road Can I say that I have seen a ghost before? Even now, my memory of that near-encounter with a ghost remains vague. According to science, the concept of ghosts is questionable. Let

A composition featuring a green tree and yellow rose flowers, crafted from colored paper.

Chapter One: The Bend That Was Scraped Away This is the first chapter of a novel I will be publishing here in parts. It is a story about maps, and about the things that get left off them on purpose. Every

A poem about the personal interpretation of art, and for me how the Gormley Statues adresss my depression through poetry

The young man came into Mara's shop eleven minutes before the train, carrying his grandfather's watch in both hands, the way people carry injured birds. "It stopped," he said. "Can you make

Chapter 1: The Last Cup 27 September 1332, an afternoon as cold as any in the most common village of the Kingdom of Acatos, famous for accumulating horse manure in front of the inn and for having well-ridden

An introspective poem about death, inspired by a dear departed friend who visits me in my dreams.

At noon, Thabit returned home feeling a great sense of relief. He had discharged the heavy waves of distress that had haunted him before climbing the mountain and seeing Shahine. Shahine, who always proved

No contact

A poem about childhood memories and the power of nostalgia.

Blessings of Mighty Durga Mata ringing the Navratri bells Navratri bells rang now as there was Navratri celebration day this Saturday for our resident community. Navratri holds its relevance for me as

Ring... ring... ring... ring... I picked up the call, and a deep, grave voice echoed through the speaker. Without any idle pleasantries, the man got straight to the point: “If you want to cover the story