EXAMPLES OF WORK

Cardiff Bay
Buildings, old and new, penetrate the skyline. Jagged shapes of greys, whites, browns, and blacks are an ugly contrast to the sheer beauty of the azure sky. Empty chairs await at empty tables. Stillness is all that remains from the uncontrolled, rebellious activity of the previous night. There is no sign of life, and the silence echoes off the walls of each monstrous building. The sun is low in the sky. Its a new day.

Though, as the day begins its continuous routine, signs of life appear in various places. The rough breath of the wind ripples through the flags of the world, mirroring the movement of the water below. They are dancing together in odd synchronised motions. Sun rays etch down into the mysterious and murky depths of the water. A few trees grow, in scattered groups in a feeble attempt to liven up the industrial bay. Figures amble at different speeds, absorbing the strange but enchanting atmosphere and industrial history. Overhead seagulls fly, swooping, diving and squealing before settling down on the floating pontoons. Tourists watch with anticipation as every boat rolls into the Bay.

But, as the day nears an end, and the nightlife commences, fiery shades of reds, yellows, oranges, pinks and purples embrace the sky. Ominous shadows lengthen. The last boat moors up to wait patiently for the morning to arrive, and seagulls lay their heads to rest, to cry no more. And as the last few people leave the bay, there are empty chairs at empty tables, once again.
Alys Smith

The Bay

Silence echoes for a second,
no waves crash, no trees sway;
sunlight stays for a second,
birds don’t fly, babies don’t cry;
the bay is still for a second,
but then the picture’s over.

Life floods back to the world,
and nobody there knows they were frozen in time;
forever, their shadows stuck,
forever, their actions held,
and still they continue,
and still they walk on;
Oblivious.

Jackson Watkins

The Alleyway
The alleyway is black, pitch black, like a gaping hole leading off from the busy road.  A stench of sick hits you like a ton of bricks.  Dead end.  The wall is visible, like a pair of vampire’s eyes. 
Something stirs in the alleyway.  A cat springs onto the wall, its claws sounding as if they are scratching a blackboard.  The cat looks round, startled.  Suddenly, a beam of light shines onto him.
A figure steps out of the dark.  He smiles a toothless grin at me.  Then, from his back, he produces a net.  He lunges forward at me and catches my tail.  I scream but there is no one to hear me.  I am put into the back of a white van.
Georgia Jones

The Hillside
A hillside covered in snow, so cold you could freeze.  A lonely snowman stands in the middle.
A young boy wanders up the hill looking lost.  He shivers in the cold, and wraps an old blanket, torn and ripped, around him.  He sits by the snowman, becoming his friend.
The snowman moves. The boy stands up. An axe slides down into the snowman’s hand. The boy tries to run, but trips on a rock. He picks up the rock and throws it. It smashes into the snowman’s head, sending snow flying through the air, but the head grows back.  The snowman swings the axe, slicing the boy in half.  Blood spills all over the snow. 
The snowman turns to look at me.  I stand afraid, so afraid I cannot move.  The snowman starts moving towards me….. 
Owain James

The Empty Room
In an empty room, the shadows lurk – and something waits to leap out.  The dust blankets everything in sight, while a mouldy smell fills the room.  A spider scuttles across the floor to hide.
A small tortoiseshell cat waits in a far corner of the room.  She is curled around a ginger cat, which gazes sightlessly at the ceiling.  The tortoiseshell stays staring at the ginger, unmoving cat.
‘How will I go on?’ the tortoiseshell thinks, her mind playing on a loop.  Without her brother, how could she live?  Then the light appeared, shining endlessly, bright gold.
“Have you come for my brother?”  I have been ready for a while now,” the tortoiseshell croaks.
In an empty room, two cats gaze sightlessly up at the ceiling, side by side.
Heather Huish

The Hillside
Bright green grass, like summery dreams.  A blue sky, so clear, with no clouds in sight and a bright shining sun, so bright it could make you cry.
He trudged up the hill, tired and weary.  He kept going, and the sheep arrived at his final location and went to his home, but a grumpy old sheep was already there.  The whole village hated that sheep.  He was bossy, like an uptight old man.  The sheep wanted his dear home back and it was the village tradition to fight if he wanted his patch back.
But the question which kept racing through his mind was ‘Who will win?  Who will win?’
Kate Avetoomyan

The Alleyway
A dark, foggy atmosphere.  Litter covering the floor of a run down street.  The noise of a helpless rat echoes around the alley.
A wrinkled old man rides his bike up the alley, his head kept down.  I step backwards on a twig which snaps.  He looks up. His eyes are black, as black as night.
He stares at me and I run.  He runs too and shouts my name.  Wait!  How does he know my name?  I stop, sweating dripping from my face.  I hear a grunting noise and look up.  There he is!
Catrin Williams

The Alleyway
It was dark and cold, windy and wet.  It seemed as though the sun would never appear again down that dark alley.
I looked up and shielded my eyes from the heavy rain.  I heard a noise.  
I quickly turned around and there, sitting by a bin, was a little dog.
I walked towards it and bent down.  It was shivering.  I picked it up and started to walk towards home. 
Suddenly there was a flash.  I was no longer holding the dog.  It was gone!
Charlotte Smith

Trees scatter around the hillside, the scent of lavender hangs heavenly in the air like the sweet scent of a candle dying out. Everything is bare, except for a couple of stems of grass that hang like hair that hasn’t been combed for weeks. The only sound that you can hear is the birds humming in the trees, like the sweet melody of fairies singing.

Suddenly a bright white light flutters through the cold winter’s air. The light is so bright it could blind you. It seems to be coming towards me, faster by the second; and then it stops and lands on my knee. The light disappears and out from the light comes a tiny figure with glittering wings like moonlight shining in the darkness.

She is wearing a few cut-up autumn leaves and a little stem of grass tied as a belt. Her skin is covered in mud, like us when we are covered in warm blankets in our beds. While I am enjoying my time with this amazing creature, I hear a slight cry high up in the mountains. It sounds like an evil creature of some sort is fighting with something or someone. I stand up, as fast as lightning, but before I do so, the cry dies out and I am back in silence once more.

A minute later I hear another cry, but this time much closer. I am so scared and don’t dare to move, but the fairy starts to tug at my ragged clothes. She makes me stand up and takes me into a black hole in the side of the hillside. Where is she taking me?
Isabelle Winter

The Nightmare
The room was filled with shining silver starlight as it shone through the open window. The door was sealed shut by hundreds of tiny cobwebs that stuck together like glue, refusing to be separated.

Along the ceiling there was a large crack in the brown paint, which had turned red with age, making the crack look like it was bleeding.
I looked around, my heart beating like a thousand tiny drums. The sweet smell of warm apple pie drifted into the room as I wished I was outside in the warm summer’s night. I listened closely at the sounds of the night, like a bat. My hands felt as though they’d been cut off as blood poured out of the cuts and bruises which covered my body.

I tried to clean them, but it was no use. A small rat crawled out of a tiny gap in the wall, but ran straight back in again when it realised where it was. An icy cold tear ran down my cheek as I thought of home.

Everything was quiet; not a single sound entered the cold, dark room. I carefully stood up, the bright starlight blinding me as it hit my face. I walked to the window, staring out at the tall oak trees as crows flew in and out of the branches. For those few, peaceful seconds I felt safe, safe in the knowledge that soon I would be free, soon I could do whatever I wanted. Just not yet. I still had to last three more months in that dreaded room, and I wasn’t sure whether I could survive that long…
Esther Deidun

The Empty Room
The room was cold; and darkness hugged it tight, like the room and darkness were in love. No sound could be heard, except for the sound of small and quiet footsteps in a corridor nearby. The only object in the room was a blood red ruby shaped like a love heart, attached to a red chain.

The ruby glowed slightly, like a light in the far-off distance. In my mind it felt as if it called to me. Realising it was valuable; I decided to pick it up. Suddenly it glowed even more and the room was lit up with an evil red glow. After a while it slowly lost its power and the light had gone. It was pitch black now and I could not see.

Suddenly I felt something tugging at my ragged clothes. A smell of rotten food raced up my nose. It was then I realised it was a goblin. The foul smell gave its identity away. Suddenly a window seemed to appear as light began to shine through. The room was alight with a moonlight colour which revealed the goblin. Its putrid skin covered in warts was tugging at me still. It looked at me in a sad way, then tears trickled down its disgusting face.

I looked at it and smiled, but then my smile turned into a frown. I scanned the body carefully and I saw the ruby hidden in the rags around its body. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a sharp dagger encrusted with jewels. I looked at the goblin and laughed, and then plunged the dagger into its head. It let out a small yell and fell to the floor. I grabbed the ruby and raced from the room, back to my tree house. Exhausted, I rested in my rough hammock. I was safe. Or was I…?
Jez Carmock

The Journey
Over huge sand dunes
Scurrying like scorpions,
Through scorching sun,
Like walking into a sauna.
Staying there
For eternity.
Around the streams and bends,
As if we were dodging a nasty smell.
Below the clear blue sky,
Like ants under a magnifying glass
On we go.
Who knows where our journey will take us?
Georgia Jones

My Journey
Over rough ground I walked,
Through trees and bushes.
Around stones and boulders,
Like a fish dodging seaweed.
Below ground I travelled in the dark.
I heard a voice,
“Keep walking!”
Soon I saw the light.
My journey was over.
Charlotte Smith

 The Journey
A piece of paper
Scratching my hand.
“Go outside.  Under the bench.”
I find another piece of paper.
“Around the tree.  Find something new.”
Around the tree I flew,
 Like a bird.
A piece of paper tells me,
“Now dig where the ‘X’ is.”
Slowly, I dig.
Catrin Williams

My Journey
Through these sands
I walk,
Filled with desperation.
Water licking
At my feet,
Like a loyal dog.
Above, the sky
Is darkening,
As the fog around me
Thickens.
I’ve never felt
So afraid.
Under my feet,
Water begins
To lick harder.
I can taste the overpowering smell
Of the saltwater.
The sky begins to rumble,
Furiously like a volcano.
Slowly, so slowly,
I disappear into the fog.
Heather Huish

The Journey
Over the hill as fast as I could.
I stopped to ask directions.
“Through that alley,”
Said the man, “you will find a hill.
Over that hill is where you are going.”
I ventured into the alley.
It was dark, as dark as night,
With no moon or stars for light.
I ventured further in.
A dark figure stood staring.
He muttered, something terrible.
I came out of the alley to find
A sun shimmering brightly,
And the hill,
With bright green grass.
I ran.
I saw it.
I tripped and fell.
I picked myself up
And stared at it.
At last.
Owain James
 
My Journey
Over towns
I fly,
Like an eagle
Soaring high above.
Below me,
Waves crash on the beach,
Like symbols smashing together.
Through the clouds,
Fluffy as marshmallows,
And around I turn,
Gliding steadily.
Just gliding onwards,
Till my journey ends.
Kate Avetoomyan