100-word student entries

100 words

I sit in the box looking down on an empty stage. The tension is killing me. There is excitement in the audience. They are ready. The actors are ready - I feel their nerves. I look down at the desk, my hands longing to dim the lights. My hands shake and I forget. What cue is first. Second. Okay. You are in control. How do you speak again? I breathe in and remember the feeling of the play. The touch, the smell of the theatre and I remember. I smile at the person next to me. “Ready?” “Okay, Lights down”

Jessica Pizzinga, 16 years old, Concord

I pulled on my first choice, a flowing stain piece adorned with enough lace you’d think I was in Les Miserables. No, too much. My next one, a simple silky short red dress. Hmph. It’ll do. I wanted it to be perfect, so I could blend in for once. “Honestly, this is my first time.” I whisper to Sophie. “Any advice?” “None. Just stick to the mission, find the target, get them alone, you know what to do next.” I felt a smile creep on my face. “Easy as that?” “Easy as that, Agent Jolie.” With that, I pulled on heels and started to climb up the wall.

Romy Dobbie

Running. That’s what you do in the cross country. I love to run, so here I am. As I follow the trail, I pass more and more people. The wind rushing past me takes my breath away. My legs are burning. The end of the track comes closer and closer. I’m almost there. Suddenly, a blur rushes past. It’s Abigail, my nemesis. Of course she’s the one to overtake me. We are the fastest runners in our school. She passes the finish and as I cross it two seconds later, I slouch in defeat. One day I’ll finally beat her.

Maya Lecuna

The soft grass under my bare skin felt softer, before the world was incinerating. The flowers seemed pinker, the weather, a perfect crisp cold. I considered his eyes, blue. Reflecting the colour of fear. Once they stood out, icy and algid. Now dark grey. He looked at me. Smiled, wistfully. The sky was turning red. The air suddenly turned fevered. I begin to cry. I sit my head on the grass. I see him looking at me from the corner of my eye. He mimes the words, ‘I love you’. It was the last thing I saw. Then, blinding light.

Maia Sullivan, 12 years old, Enmore

This month we showcase the creativity of a selection of high school students, who wrote and contributed their 100 word stories as part of class exercises aimed at developing their writing skills.

Separated. Pushed apart. The line that divided it from me was indestructible. There once was light, but darkness was all that surrounded me now. Darkness formed by the society around me. To survive in this world you had to be ‘perfect’ and I was far from it. Tied down, critiqued. I heard the judgment from every thought that surrounded me. It consumed me and I had no way to stop it. A 10-foot wall built to divide it from me. I was not the first to be detached from my happiness, and sadly I would not be the last.

Lilie Tyler, 16 years old, Balmain

As Ajay strolled into Al Toro’s Italian, he noticed nothing different to any other pizza place. He moved up, third in line. As the couple before him walked away, he began to give his order. “A Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple and anchovies.” The cashier just looked at him and pressed a button. “Welcome through’, she said in a slow monotone. A door opened and revealed another room. Confused, Ajay asked what was happening, but was just led through what seemed like millions of different doors. Finally, she spoke. “How did you find out the code?” “What code? I came for pizza.”

Emma Lawrie, 11 years old, Stanmore

It was chaos. Christy Thomas had thought that it would be nice to spend the weekend at the Ridiculous Rides Amusement Park, however her day was very different to what had been planned. She had spent some time exploring the rides before she came across a rather nice-looking ferriswheel. Christy boarded it, enjoying the lovely view. At least, until things started to go wrong. As it was on its way down, a cable tore, leaving the carriage dangling dangerously over water. Everything stopped. People were screaming. The carriage turned slightly, and then crashed into the water. It never resurfaced.

Sylie Bhat, 12 years old, Epping

I never wanted to move. Why did Dad’s work ruin everything? It’s not like it affected Mum; she still got to write. But what about me? I was finally making friends… I guess it wasn’t all bad. Big house, many places to explore. But not the chained door. I wanted to go inside but I just couldn’t get myself to do it. Sometimes because of the sounds, sometimes because of the smells, sometimes because of the silence… My Dad found his rocks, my Mum published her book. Me, I was never found. I never should have gone through that door.

Isabel McKeogh, 12 years old, Hunters Hill

Glimpses of another world

Local author Guy Hallowes writes another anecdote of his time spent in Africa. Guy has lived in Kenya, UK, South Africa, Botswana and Canada before settling in Lane Cove. He has written five books, together with a collection of short stories.

MAU-MAU MEETING

It was 1949 and three years after Dad had put his life savings into a farm at Ol’Kalou - the start of his dream of personal independence.

Thirty of the 35 families living on the farm were Kikuyu. My father spoke fluent Kikuyu. He had heard two of the wives of people working on the farm talking about a ‘big meeting’ to be held on the next Saturday night in one of the tractor driver’s huts.

This was reinforced with requests for an unusual number of ‘beer permits’ (a nonsensical Government requirement where the farmer had to give written permission for an employee to brew beer).

We were all away, except Dad who had stayed to look after the farm. On the appointed night, Dad locked the dogs in the house, blacked his face and, unarmed, went to the nearby Kikuyu village. Having identified the hut, with women all scurrying backwards and forwards with beer and food, Dad went to the far side of the hut from the door. He dug a little hole in the mud that filled the gaps between the timber that the hut was constructed from and watched and listened to the meeting.

Dad went to the Commissioner of Police in Nairobi and told him the story. He was told in no uncertain terms to ‘shut up’. The British had plans to bring thousands of ex-servicemen to Kenya as settlers, which they did, and nothing was going to upset those plans.

Dad was absolutely horrified with what he saw and heard. It was a Mau -Mau meeting and there was a man from Nairobi who explained that the MauMau was set-up, by the Kikuyu, to “chase all the whites into the sea.” The man collected money from all the attendees (only men). He appointed our cook as an oath administrator and our ‘houseboy’ (I don’t like the expression either) as his reinforcer.

(This episode is included in ‘No Happy Valley’, the first book in Guy’s ‘Winds of Change’ trilogy. It’s entirely true. Thousands of mainly British exservicemen settled in Kenya in the 1950’s and were ruined when the British were forced to buy them out at very low prices as part of the Kenyan independence settlement in 1963.)

1981: Many assume that the Kenyan farmer lived in the lap of luxury. This was far from the case - our cottage pictured below was typical of many in the district.

NOW AVAILABLE AT The Burns Bay Bookery