My #Creative Writing Club has come to its inevitable end 🦋

I love love love this project because we write what we want -- for self-expression. For example, ...

I'll share a story I wrote. I am rarely satisfied with my creative work, but I really like this story.

"The blazing sun is hoisting up out of the sea a piercing stare that doesn’t burn. It scours the seascape and stumbles on a small rowboat gently rocking on waves. Small waves gently lap against the boat. The oars are submerged into water on both sides, like arms of a desolate, disconsolate old man. The oarlocks creak quietly in tune with the waves. Moist, squishy eelgrass blades are twining around the right oar, clinging to it, as if they were the hands of a witch trying to drag it to her dark underworld.

Seagulls are squawking and squealing. One large seagull is screeching. It is flying alone around the boat: it alights on the side, then ascends again, then makes a circle around and screeches, screeches, screeches.

Inside the boat is another seagull. It sits on the floor. It doesn’t have feathers in places. The bald patches of the body, desolately, disconsolately gray, ooze puss and stench. Its eyes are covered with a semi-transparent patina that looks like egg white. One webbed foot is sticking out at a crooked angle, as if it fell off and a passer-by picked it up and placed it nearby so that it doesn’t get lost. The seagull blinks occasionally, oblivious to the screeching around it.

The blazing sun is hoisting up out of the sea a piercing stare. It doesn’t burn, it doesn’t heal. It doesn’t judge, it doesn’t soothe. It doesn’t frown, it doesn’t cry. It watches in silence." (By Irina Lutsenko @iraluts)

The image, like all creative images on the channel, is by Anna Skopina.

And I'll ask the participants to share their stories or impressions about my Creative Writing Club in the comments. ⬇️