VI edycję konkursy szkolnego Crative Writing wygrywa
KAROLINA BAK, 1me
MAŁGORZATA PLUSKOTA, 4ib
WIKTORIA KAPUSTA, 4ib
Serdeczne gratulacje! Informacje o nagrodach zostaną przekazane autorkom w wiadomości prywatnej.
Twórczość Sobieszczaków w postaci 3 konkursowych opowiadań znajdziecie poniżej, a tymczasem…nie zwalniajmy tempa kreatywności i przejdźmy do kolejnej edycji i nowych tematów:
Tematy VII Edycji:
- Write a story that begins with words: “What’s behind the door? Why is it closed?”
- Write a story from the perspective of a person in the year 2550.
- It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…magical realism so everything is possible in your story!
A zatem zapraszam Cię do twórczej i językowej przygody na papierze:
- Praca powinna być napisana w języku angielskim, samodzielnie w przedziale do max. 4500 – 5000 znaków w edytorze tekstu np. Word (2 strony A4)
- Termin wysyłania prac przez dziennik Librus (Joanna Seweryn) lub e-mail służbowy (firstname.lastname@example.org) to 6 grudnia 2020 (niedziela) 23:59
Karolina Bak, 1me
Inn Under the Axe
When I was a child, my family and I were always going on vacation to the same place every year. But once, due to bad weather conditions, we found ourselves in a different, peculiar place. I often look back with my memories to that location.
It was an average day in July. It was raining cats and dogs. As every year, we went on holidays to a small town in the mountains by car. The sun was setting slowly in the west. Suddenly, the bad weather started to get even worse. The sky was swarming with lightning and the wind was blowing furiously. My dad, who was driving the car decided to stop at the nearest hotel and wait until the weather gets better because driving in these conditions can be extremely dangerous. My sister and I started to look for any sign indicating the nearest hotel. Wall of rain was making it practically impossible, the visibility was negligible.
Suddenly, I saw a sign pointing to an inn. It was called “Under the Axe”. Very affectionate, isn’t it? But it still was better than being smashed by a tree struck by lightning. We decided to stay in this place. We didn’t have a choice.
We sprightly went to the wooden, old building. Because of the rain, we couldn’t see much of the area around the property, but at the first sight, it looked, well, undeniably enthralling. The interior seemed a whole lot better than the outside. There was a warm, calm and pleasant atmosphere. The wooden floor was decorated with colourful, woolly carpets. I could hear the gentle and pleasurable for ear sounds of firing wood burning in the brick fireplace in the corner of the room. Cute candles shone on the old cupboards and wardrobes. Even though it was the middle of summer, I sensed like I was in Santa’s Hut in the centre of the North Pole.
A nice old lady, the owner of this property, allowed us to rent two rooms. We spent the rest of the evening talking, sipping delicious tea. I was drowsy because of the long journey. The woman explained to me the way I can get into one of the rooms that we can occupy. I went to the second floor of the building. Even though the location appeared very small from the outside, standing in the middle of a long corridor, I had no idea which way to go. I tried to remember the way she explained to me that I could find the right lodging, but it didn’t help me. I decided to choose the room that seemed the most consistent with the description. Well, I think that the better idea could have been going back and asking again for the way. I found myself in a large, versatile room. It was full of boxes, chests, and various furniture for storing items. I was very curious about what was inside. I walked over to one of the boxes, it was covered by a thick layer of dust. I blew to get rid of the residual mite. It was filled to the brim with books. All of them were written by an author who I did not know. In the corner of the box, there was an unusual golden fountain pen. It looked beautiful. I opened one of the books. It was written in handwritten script. Abruptly, I heard the sound of the door opening. I closed the box hurriedly and turned around quickly. An old man was standing in the doorway smiling at me. “You must be one of our visitors.” He said. “Yes, but I think I got lost, sorry.” I answered timidly. “That’s no problem my dear” he
smiled “Oh, I see that you found one of my creations” He looked at one of the books I was unable to hide in my haste. I looked at the floor and asked. “Are you the author of these books?” I glance at him. “So you had to see there were more.” He laughed. “Yes, I wrote them.” He replied. “Are you a writer then?” I asked curiously. “I did want to. But when my first book failed, I decided to quit my professional writing and start writing just for myself.” I was astonished by his words. “But one failure should not cancel your entire career. I am sure that you have gained practice over the years and that your current work is much better. Please tell me what your last book was about.” The man hesitated, but at my urging, he agreed to tell me. I have never heard such an interesting and original story. I told the elderly man that I was delighted with his story and I was sure that many people could share my opinion. I saw that I had planted a seed of uncertainty in him, but also a seed of hope.
In the morning we had to leave this peculiar place. I often come back to it with memories. And most of all, to the nice atmosphere prevailing in it and the amazing couple living in it.
Recently, while walking around the city, I came across a poster advertising a book that has been winning the hearts of many people recently. I looked at the author of the novel. I knew him.
It is not worth abandoning your dreams because of first failures.
Małgorzata Pluskota, 4ib
Write about a place you visited when you were a child and it still brings back vivid memories.
Dancing like the snowflakes
The snow is slowly falling, as I nervously walk past the window. In just one hour it will turn out if I am good enough for one of the most prestige ballet school in the world. I look outside to calm myself a little. And then it comes back to me, as it always do in moments like this.
I was nine years old. It was one week before Christmas. My parents were at work, like always. My older sister was doing her homework, like always. And I was extremely bored, staring at the world behind the window, like always.
With a small hand I flicked my brown, curly hair back. Nose next to the glass, I observed snowflakes dancing in the air. Spinning around, going up and down with the wind, almost like the ballerinas. I would love to dance like them, so free, so beautiful… But my parents couldn’t afford a dance lesson for me. They told me so many times. My dream of being a ballerina ended up as dancing in the snow.
I tiptoed downstairs, my heart beat a little faster when I get past my sister’s room, pressed the handle and opened the door. The snow was so dazzling white I had to almost close my eyes. It was freezing cold, so I get back and grabbed my mother’s fur. It obviously was too big for me, but also very warm.
There were no people or cars on the street. Everything around was covered in snow, so quiet and calm, just like the city decided to go to sleep and the world laid a big blanket over it. I opened my mouth and caught a snowflake.
Suddenly, I heard jingling. I turned around and saw a big white sleigh, with a lot of small bells around them. Two beautiful white horses were standing in front of them. Inside the sleigh was sitting the most marvellous woman I have ever seen. Her long, puffed dress, as bright as the snow, filled all the place in the carriage. Her skin was pale and her hair was fair. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a hand to help me jump in. I didn’t hesitate for a moment.
Just when I hopped in, the horses moved forward and with the jingling of the bells, we rode ahead. We passed by the houses and trees, all covered in snow. The only things that were not white were my hair and big, black eyes of The Woman.
We stopped in front of the incredible big and red building, with gold stairs, leading to the huge gold door. Snowflakes and people were twirling all around. Everyone was bundled up against the cold wind and carried a package with Christmas gifts for the family. As the crowd was going left and right, only one person went up the stairs and into the theatre. The Woman get off the sleigh. Her stunning long dress dragged after her when she walked. I followed her into the building.
Inside was also red and gold. Everything looked so rich, so gorgeous. I felt very small. The Woman took my hand and lead me to the main stage. This one person that we saw before was a beautiful ballerina. She was just getting ready for the performance. I was staring at her, so elegant in her costume, so gentle with every jump and spin, just like the snowflake. The Woman snapped her fingers, and we were in the same room, but this time full of people. It seemed like the dance just ended. They were all applauding. She snapped again, and we were standing at the scene, right next to the ballerina. Her face and eyes were shining, her brown hair were perfectly tied up. Then I noticed that this amazing dancer… was me. I gasped and looked at The Woman, I wanted to ask her so many questions, but then she snapped again, and we were in the sleigh, going so fast in the frosty wind that I couldn’t catch my breath.
I must have slept through the road. When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in the snow, next to my house. Front door opened rapidly and I saw my sister, nervously looking around. She stopped and sight with relief as she spotted my dark hair through the snow.
“Here you are! I was afraid you get lost. Come inside, it’s freezing cold!”
A week later, I get the best gift in my life – my first ballet lesson. Every dancing class reminded me of the extraordinary adventure I once had. Every snowy day brings back the vivid memory of the Woman, sleigh and great red theatre. And every time I was feeling like I am not good enough, I recall the red theatre, the stage and me as the beautiful ballerina, dancing for thousands of people.
And now, standing right in front of the biggest opportunity of my life, suddenly I am feeling so confident. I already am the beautiful ballerina. I can dance for the thousands of people.
The door opened and someone called me in. I entered the audition room. The light, bright as the snow, blinded me for a moment. I could swear, I saw a woman dressed in a long, white dress standing at the back.
Then I started to dance.
Wiktoria Kapusta, 4ib
Write about a place you visited when you were a child and it still brings back vivid memories.
Holidays are always special. In particular those we experience as a child. This is why they bring colourful memories anytime you think about them. It is no different in my case.
In Masuria there is a village called Wydminy. It is a place I used to visit with my parents during summer. I cannot find enough words to describe this location. Probably it is a result of children’s imagination. I have been there almost ten years ago but now one thought was enough to feel like a child once again. I remembered the lakes all around, the quietness of this place and beautiful forests surrounding everything. I think that this village’s charm comes from its littleness. When you are there it seems like everyone knows each other and all the people are easy to get on with. There is a local restaurant where we always went to eat dinner. I remember its owner as a man with an everlasting smile on the face. His daughter was a waitress and she was always helping him in managing the restaurant. I am sure she will inherit it. I have to mention here my absolute favourite meal you could order there. The most delicious cottage cheese pancakes – they are mouth-watering. But the most important thing is that they served them with a cream jug full of sweet cream. You could spread the cream all over the pancakes however it was so delicious itself that I simply always ate half of it before I even touched the pancakes. Also the broth was very tasty.
After a lovely meal we often went to a nearby ice cream parlour and then we explored the stalls at the market. One day I found a pretty, pink blouse with white flowers on it. I liked it so much that I asked my mum to buy it. Even though it is too small now, I still have it in my wardrobe in a special box. I am very sentimental. I have a lot of things inside that box that remind me about my past. Another time my parents bought me a ball with a picture of Winnie the Pooh. It is my favourite ball from childhood. Nowadays every time my little cousin visits me, we use this ball to play. I also remember my birthday we were celebrating there. It was a sunny day, I was wearing a blue dress and my parents were sitting at the table. I was standing and making wishes over the birthday cake. Then I blew out the candles and we started eating this delicious mix of fruits and cream. In the afternoon we went to the lake as we did almost every day. We spent a couple of hours there. I learnt how to swim the breaststroke in that lake. But this is not the only thing I owe to this place. My parents took me to Wydminy when I was really little and I was not even able to walk. Well, by the time. They say that right there I have taken my first steps. I wish I could remember that. We went fishing one day too and I managed to catch my first fish. I remember that I was extremely happy about it.
On Sundays we went to church and after that we went on a trip. Each year we visited many places. For example bridges in Stańczyki. They are very tall and long. They can impress with its hugeness even more when you find out that they were built at the beginning of the twentieth century. Moreover I have a photo of me feeding the wisent at the wisent pen. We were in Holy Linden too. It is a small village which is known for the pilgrimage sanctuary, a masterpiece of baroque architecture. Next location we explored was the star-shaped Boyen Fortress in Giżycko and the Hańcza lake. It is the deepest lake in Poland with a maximum depth of over a hundred meters. I also canoed with my father on the other lake once. After a long day we were making a bonfire, eating sausages, drinking warm tea and
planning what to do the next day. Finally when I almost fell asleep sitting on a camp chair I went to “bed” which was our tent, I got into the sleeping bag and I started listening to the rustle of the trees that got me off. In the morning my mum prepared scrambled eggs with some mushrooms gathered the previous day by my dad.
I really enjoy thinking about these times. They make me regret that these days will never go back but they are also a reason for a giant smile on my face. Thanks to them I was very joyful. I wish I could go there one more time with my future husband and our kids. I would show them the paradise of my youth and who knows – maybe one day my children will go there with their kids and make their own memories. It would be wonderful.