C R E A T I V E
C O R N E R
119
Creative Corner
Cappuccino Travels By Carla Dumitru, Year 7V
He was looking at me as though he had never seen another cat before. His eyes looked so… somehow empty. I could smell the arrogance in the air. I ignored it. I tiptoed forward and mewed: “Hello? May I stay here? What’s your name? I’m
I woke up all of a sudden and realised I was in a shelter under a rock. I looked around and saw everything covered in snow. The wind was roaring in my face and I could feel myself shivering. I make myself even smaller, so I don’t feel the cold anymore and start thinking about how I ended up here. I then remembered, I lived in England, at Oxford University, that’s why I knew about all of these words. The professors there always talked with grand words (another word I heard from them). After a while, I decided to get out of there, to find out where I was and make my way back home. I walked out of the bush and found myself near a house with a frozen, clear lake behind it. This reminded me of how the teachers always went ice-skating in winter. I walked towards the house. It was so hard to head through the heavy snow and walk on the slippery ice. Finally, I got to the house and sniffed the air. It was really difficult because even though the wind wasn’t as strong as an hour before, the smell of snow hadn’t gone away. My nose was skilled in the art of picking up scents, quickly realising the house was empty, but for the scent of a cat. I went inside to explore. As I pushed the rotten wooden door open, the wind rushed inside. Everything looked frozen, dust everywhere. There was a wooden desk with papers piled up on it and ink stains on the papers. In the corner I could see a spiral staircase heading upstairs. Upstairs I detected the scent of recently cooked food. It smelled great. I looked around and saw a fireplace and a little sofa. On the sofa there was a blanket and… a cat. A cat. It was a black cat with a white spiral on it’s tummy.
Cappuccino.” Then, the cat answered: “Hello. I am Nebula.” I stared and asked again: “May I stay here?” Nebula nodded affirmatively, so I sat next to it on the warm sofa, thinking this cat was somewhat peculiar. Nebula then asked: “Are you an English? Your voice is different to mine.” I answered: “Yes, I live at Oxford University in England. Where do you really live, this house doesn’t entirely convince me it is yours.” “That’s right, this is not my house, I live in Florida, at NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) if you didn’t know,” mewed Nebula. When he said that, I was sure I had heard of it at the university. We talked a little longer and I found out that he was lost too. I spent the night in the house. It was the worst sleep of my entire life. The wind had grown even stronger outside and I could feel myself shivering. On top of that, I could hear the creaking of the wooden roof and doors. In the morning, I woke up next to Nebula, who was still asleep. This was really queer because at Oxford the teachers and staff woke up at 06:30. I’m not exactly sure what that is, but I understand it’s pretty early. “Americans!”, I thought. I slowly crept to the kitchen and found some chicken with parsley. That was exactly what Ms Lilacwood always gave to me as a special meal. She was definitely the best teacher in the whole college. She taught English Literature.
