Wednesday, 28 August 2013


When I was 13, I was a part of a school creative writing class. For Christmas, we had to write each other a story, like a Secret Santa, and it was allowed to be as cheesy as possible. I found it hilarious to write, as it just made no sense, it was clich├ęd and ridiculous.
Oh, and it had to begin with 'Once upon a time'...
Once upon a time, there was a girl. She had long, dark brown hair and twinkling brown eyes set into a round, olive toned face.  This girl could not feel the cold like others. She would run around her little village garden, in the snow with not a care in the world.
She played the violin too. She was so very talented with the small instrument; she could play for hours and hours. And it made such a wonderful sound.
One day, that little girl left her home country. It was late at night and she had already said her goodbyes. She packed away her violin and its bow and lifted the case. She walked slowly down the path and away. Away from the little green house that had been her home. She sailed across seas and past continents, searching. Searching for a place to belong.
It was a long, long time before anyone saw that girl again, several years, in fact. It was a group of explorers who had journeyed to the far south, to the Antarctic, that found her. They had never expected to find what they saw.
A huddle of penguins began to gather into a ring around a spot marked in the ice. They stood waiting, but all completely wild. The young explorers watched. And waited.
Suddenly, as if from nowhere, the girl padded across the snow, so silent with her bare feet. Her eyes were glazed, but there was a smile on her face. The young explorers watched fascinated by the girl who took her place among the penguins, who accepted her almost as brethren.
Slowly, softly, she took her violin and propped it on her shoulder. She began to play.
And the sky lit up with such an array of beautiful colours, pinks, blues, greens and yellows. The Aurora Australis.  The shimmering light patterns reflected in her hazel eyes and shone on her long brown hair. The adventurers watched the girl in awe. Secluded and lonely, silent but beautiful.  Here, was a girl who was at home. Here with the cold, the penguins, her violin and the light.

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