Young Writers Echapters
Climate, Health and Courage
A bird in a burnt forest
Jemima Bate
“Charcoal: All that remained of his bushland property stained his work boots black. His home, his land, engulfed by fire and left charred with soot. This land, once his childhood sanctuary, succumbed to nature and her wishes …”
The Story Bridge
Yasaman Bagheri
“November 2018. Brisbane.
She looks at the bridge through the window of a hotel, The
Oakwood Hotel & Apartments. But how does the bridge look at
the hotel? …”
Creation story
Martha Barlow
“In the beginning was the end.
A junkyard. A pile of scraps. A veritable mountain of things
discarded and disused. A wasteland of the failed attempts to
build something meaningful, something that would last,
something that would not simply be destroyed by its inhabitants …”
Prometheus
Jacob Carson
“The deep sanguine of proud avarice bled from the limp national flag. It dripped behind the esteemed congregation of the American upper-class and press …”
Bad blood
Isabella Martin
“For as long as I can remember, men were something the three of us were unable to incorporate into our lives organically. We didn’t care for men, didn’t care about them. We were not controlled or swayed by their action or inaction, worked outside a paradigm of their violence and coercion …”
The Mustafa boys
Minney Richani
“You don’t really think of electricity as a sound needing to be heard. You wouldn’t think of it as bringing to life a static orchestra with one instrument at a time to echo throughout a home. Every four hours we welcomed the hum that would wake the fridge from hibernation and rescue the produce from summer temperatures …”
Day-bag
Joshua Lee Shimmen
“On the beach, there is a gelatinous tube curled in the sand. It is transparent, the sand beneath it as visible as the flecks scattered on top. It sits unshrinking in the ocean breeze. I point at it with my left hand and hold the baby with my right …”
My birdcage, your classroom
Kiara Simoes
“Click. Click.
Click. Click.
Click.
With every lethal gesture of my retractable pen, I itchingly
anticipated the catastrophic click that would propel one of my
precious classmates to their breaking point …”
