Aitchison College – Ahmed Tabassum
FC College – Muha
AES School for Girls – Tooba Khalid Khan
FC College – Soha
Air University – Sanwal Malik
Hamdard Univers
Air University – Wajiha Shah
Institute Of Busin
APCOMS – Ayesha Siddique
Institute of Busine
Arid Agriculture University – Muhammad Faizan Asghar
Institute of Space
Bahauddin Zakariya University – Ahmad Riaz
International Isla
Bahauddin Zakriya University – Iram Shah
International Isla
Bahria University – Sana Nasir
Iqra University – M
Beaconhouse Defence – Fatima Aslam
Karachi Generatio
Beaconhouse Defence – Muntaha Aslam
Karachi Grammar
Beaconhouse School System ALGC – Usman Mahmood
Kinnaird College F
Classic School System - Ghalia Zainab
Kinnaird College F
COMSATS, Lahore – Muhammad Usman Awan
Kinnaird College F
Dawood Public School – Anamta Rafiq
Kinnaird College F
DHA Phase4 - Hareem Khan
Kinnaird College F
FAST NU – Asim Tanwir
Lahore Grammar
Fast University NUCES – Naveed Khalid
Lahore Grammar
THE IE AMBASSADORS
a Naveed
sity, Islamabad – Sohail Khan
ness Administration, PU – Maheen Arif
ess Administration, PU – Rumaan Naeem
e Technology – Omer Khalid
amic University – Rabeea Amjad
Muhammad Yaruq Sohail
on's School – Kashaf Asim
r School – Hammad Mansoor Pai
For Women – Maheer Anum
For Women – Maida Farhat
For Women – Noor Rehman
For Women – Shajeeha Ataullah
For Women – Hina Khurshid School Paragon – Zaiem Uddin School Paragon – Ayesha Raees
S
BPP Business School, London – Raja Jamal Global Vision College – Mehmood Hayat Petroleum Institute – Omeir riaz The University of Hong Kong – Muhammad Talha Sami University of Toronto – Komal Hussain University of Toronto – Momin Ahmad
Pakistan Youth Alliance – Muhammad Imran HOPE – Husna Rafi Next Generation Pakistan – Mariam Saeed Khan
NGO-BASED AMBASSADORS
INTERNATIONAL AMBASSADORS
amic University – Asma Iftekhar
NATIONAL AMBASSADORS
ammad Omer Imran
February has shown us that Lahore truly does love literature. It is common knowledge that Lahore is said to be the cultural hub of Pakistan, but with the recent increase in technological advancement, and the fact that there people have absolutely no free time these days, there’s been a general shift from books and love of the written word. February proved that it isn’t so. There are still numerous people who love the feel of books in their hands and will brave the nipping cold to visit book fairs. There are still people who enjoy sitting down in a room where their favorite authors might be discussing their books and the current state of affairs, despite of the winter rain. It was absolutely heartwarming to see the level of participation citizens had in both events, just a week apart from each other. The halls were full, there were people thronging in and out and art and literature tainted all conversations. And now that Pakistan has a lot of indigenous authors, literary festivals make all the more sense. Readers love to know why the writer has written what he has. There’s always a backstory to writing and festivals like these make it all the more easier for readers to connect and interact with the writer
of a work that drew them in, or made them s world they live in from a different perspective
Surprise by Beverly McLoughland The biggest Surprise On the library shelf is when you suddenly Find yourself Inside a book(the HIDDEN you) You wonder how The author knew.
But there’s another side to it too, books and d sions inspire. When you read and listen to about they came about with an idea, you sta ing things in a way you didn’t before.
And that gives you a start, it’s up to you whe take it.
Aspiring novelist, not-really-a-closet poet, blogger; Maryam is a freshman at Kinnaird majoring in Media Studies. She hates being told that she should be studying Literature
see the e.
discusothers art see-
ere you
The Reality Romanticized Team Editor Maryam Mirza Assistant Editor Noor Rehman Managing Head Hiba Hassan Designer Ayesha Raees
Only One Date By Ano
Listen I Will T By Aro
Pa By Shan
Hope Will By Hin
Because Every Kin By Taya
on Her Tombstone osha Anwar
Tell You My Story ooma Zainab
aradise nzeh Salman
Find a Reason na Khurshid
ngdom Has a Downfall aba Chandio
In a faded dress and Roses freshly plucked Held in her hands… She makes her way With a heavy heart And grieving steps… The time is of dawn The air is warm But she can't get rid of That nipping shudder, It never leaves her, Even with a gleaming sun…. A thread of thoughts runs through her mind, Of all those gone by times When she woke up, thinking … To do away with the facade, they named life Surrendering, herself to a cold demise To accept things for the way they are… The wounds that heal but leave a scar To quit mourning over, what can’t be healed And she knew, no other way, of doing this feat except by ending this mockery and strife Finally, once and for all… By now she is near the grave
Where an angel peacefully lays A new string of thoughts Runs through her mind As she shivers In golden sunlight Maybe she is not The most damned of them all… Many more are there who continually mourn Stuck in a labyrinth of time, But can’t come out… without losing it all… Those who lost all Before it even began… The bud that died Before a blossom, it became The child who left Before knowing a mother’s bosom Like a crippled truth Destined to feel lonesome… She looks at the roses in her arms As she lays them, in front of, That cold white stone… And pays her respect To the girl with only one date on her tombstone.
I'm nowhere in this world, But I'm here, a wandering bird, I'm all dull and black, see. And now I am on my knees. I had been walking bare footed, On a thronged way, I was looted, In loving my things, I lost Human love and care. I lost. I see no rescue, I see no escape, There's a list of mistakes that I've made, Give me some water, my lips are hurting, It was happiness I was hunting, But I lost, I lost my way, And I lost everything gay, I'm feeling the wetness on my face, It’s coming from my eyes in a steady race, I'm feeling beats of something far away, It comes from my chest every day, Listen! I will tell you my story, But first I ask for a little glory, Listen! The ghosts are coming, hurry up. Oh! They’re taking me, help me up.. The beats are now slowing down, I guess my eyes are falling down, Listen! I will tell you my story. But first I ask for a little glory. Promise me to come here someday, Waiting here in my grave, I stay.
B
H
E
She looked like a vision in white, Stepping right out of his mind, Her innocence radiant, her eyes bright Her beauty alone, glorified the night. She looked so content, so happy as she stood as the bride, Their eyes met, and she passed him a smile. She seemed like an angel, walking shyly down the aisle, Every step she took towards her groom, for him was a painful trial.
He wished he had told her how he felt, when he had the chance, Because her belonging to another man shattered him to fragments, tore him apart.
He had given her his heart, could easily give away his life, With the beautiful memories they had together, he would survive. Her happiness was all that mattered to him, her smile alone would keep him alive But he wished he could tell her how he felt, show her his love, holding her hand, take her to paradise She walked down the aisle, her face plastered with a fake smile, Every step she took towards her groom, seemed like a painful mile. Their eyes met for a moment, her true feelings concealed, a sliver of hope still shining bright,
Even then if he told her he loved her, she would have left everything, everyone, just to hold him tight. But he politely smiled back at her as if all was just fine, So everything within her simply died. She didn't have a choice, and would love him even as another mans wife, But she wished him all the happiness in the world, knowing that she would still dream of him, of their paradise.
We talked of changing weather… Of the cycle of the sun and the moon… As if they were things of the outside, While it was something growing and withering, Inside of us all along… Changing…building up…and breaking down… Slowly…steadily,
Like crooked leaves of the fall… Crunch! Turning to dust under the fatal blows of life… The crunch will echo in the abyss of your soul, A bare branch on an autumn tree… A cruel melody over the flames of ignited hopes…
In rhythm with the shadows, Emerging and fading… Through night and day… Through every breath… every heartbeat… Always there… A companion at times, Often the fiercest of enemies…
But as the flames subside…and the tears flow again… Hope, like the fragrance of spring, Will take in the salty drops… Trickle down the frozen limbs… Like warmth from the summer sun…
A shiver as the pain descends deep within… Making us go cold…silent…and numb, Building up with each passing moment, And finally… When the eyes give up, Raining down in cascading tears, Stinging at the skin… If you hold your arms around you, Real tight… Brace your rattling bones, Stop shivering for a moment… And hold in the sobs, In that second of silence… From somewhere inside, You might be able to hear your dreams…
And in the ashes of the fallen… Will grow roots, New and alive… Growing deep into the crevices of your soul… Binding the broken pieces in one… Coloring the dark corners of your being… New petals…blooming with time… And if sometimes, late at night… You see the tear drops glistening on the petals again… Close your eyes… And tell yourself that it’s going to be alright… For when the sun comes up to take them away… Hope will find a reason again.
His eyes were a reflection of contentment and glow, He was happy, so what if life moved a little slow. Being an orphan was no excuse to be still, Infact it gave him a million reasons to increase his will. Sleeping besides the road getting sunburnt, He never thought things could take such a turn. At such an early age, Life was an undiscovered story, But, the bitter reality took away all the glory. Books were the only companion, there were siblings to look after, Just imagine an early teenage who lost his laughter. The huge old tree was his only shelter, Days and nights passed without any signs of turning better. Years and years of a wounded life such, And then one day he was gone with hopes and much. His high morals could do nothing, Because to wealth unlike us he had no link. But, tell you what it wasn't the same from the beginning, This orphan boy was the son of a great earning. Whose death took him away from the mortal palace, And his family from all the luxuries and assets. Close your eyes and think, This little boy can be you. For all that you have today, May be gone the very next day!
If you want your poetry or prose to be featured in the next issue of Reality Romanticized, email your contributions to REALITY.ROMANTICIZED@IDEASEVOLVED.COM
And They Arrived By Syed Zeeshan Ahmed
Sindhu By Ayaz Ali Rind
Another Future Story By Noor Rehman
The Enlightenment Beyond By Anonymous
The Lost Dog By Khashaf Asim
Asteroids and Humans By Hamayal Wajid Lodhi
The city had changed. It wasn’t the same anymore. All that life, what happened to it?, Adnan couldn’t help thinking. The first major event happened in the year 2190, when he was just a kid. It started when they arrived. They were very different, and spoke a different language. First they threatened people and grouped them together. Then they took over the local government and started making their own laws. Adnan, somehow, escaped, along with some other people. They took refuge in an abandoned building, and lived there for a few months. Adnan often left the building to observe the situation in the city, it was difficult at first because they were around. But then things became easier as they started moving toward the inner part of the city. The city was silent, apart from some occasional mechanical hums. During his visits, Adnan collected edible items from different places and brought it back to the building. The group that was staying was a little one; four people including Adnan. Two of them were Shahzad and Hafsa, married, and doctors. One was a student, Sunil. One was an elderly man, Naseer, who was quite agile despite his age. Days became weeks, and weeks became months. Adnan’s trips to the main city weren’t that frequent anymore. They had enough food and water to survive. They often talked about their experiences, and wondered about their future. Shahzad and Hafsa loved each other a lot. They had fallen in love when they were in college, and had promised to marry one day no matter what. That, they did achieve. Sunil often talked about his studies, and how he had wanted to become a businessman, but all that felt like a dream now. Just like Adnan, Sunil was an orphan. Naseer, the elderly man, was a journalist once, and he was the only one who had some idea about the event. He mentioned how he once
stumbled upon some confidential do hinted at a conspiracy. He didn’t talk kept an eye on it. He also told about an in the government who often shared t mation.
“He used to give me information relate project within the government. But m the information looked really fantastic mutation, genetic experimentation and teresting things. But without the prop information was just incomplete. I neve this case since it was a big risk. The stopped meeting me. I tried contacting He had disappeared, into thin air, ne again. I then rested this case, once and no direction or leads. A few years ba package, which had some documents. were related to the information that inf but it was more detailed. It mentione ‘change’ in the system. It also revealed other ‘civilizations’ wanted to take hol Boy, was it shocking? I tried to convinc ahead with the story, but he rejected th to share this information somehow, b support at all. I was fired from my job started working in a departmental sto man now, who’s dying. But I am worrie self, but people like you, who are stil could do something”.
Then one day, Naseer suffered a stroke riously ill. Both Shahzad and Hafsa tri treat him, but it was in vain, since the medicines at hand. Naseer died soon. was held for him, and he was buried o ing.
ocuments which about it, but he n informant withtop secret infor-
ed to a top secret most of the times c. It talked about a lot of other inper direction, the er really pursued e informant then him, but in vain. ever to be seen for all. For I had ack I received a The documents formant gave me, ed an impending d that how some ld of the people. ce my boss to go he idea. So, I tried but I received no b. I gave up and ore. I am an old ed, not about myll alive. If only I
e and became seied their best to ey had no proper . A little funeral outside the build-
Adnan sighed. All those memories, terrible and yet comforting. At least there were people then. He remembered how after the death of Naseer, things remained very gloomy for a few months. One day Sunil decided to visit the city, and check the situation. He never came back. They all hoped that he would, but he never did. Only three of them were left, but for how long, none of them knew that. “Perhaps, we should leave this place, maybe there are more people like us. We are running out of food, we have to take a decision” said Shahzad one day. “But it’s not safe outside, who knows what might happen?” Hafsa was worried. Adnan didn’t say a single word. “What do you think, Adnan?” asked Hafsa. He looked at her and said “I just don’t feel alive anymore, I want to, but I don’t. Maybe Shahzad is right”. Soon they decided to finally leave the place. Hafsa packed all the food they had. And then one morning they finally started their journey. The whole city had lost its spirit. Ruins, everywhere they looked. They found a little house, which wasn’t that damaged and took refuge inside. They stayed in the place for a few days. Adnan often surveyed the city, but found nothing alive. One day, when he came back to the house he found Hafsa and Shahzad, but not alive anymore. While Adnan was gone, they had killed themselves. Adnan screamed, shook the lifeless bodies. He then started crying. He was all alone now… That happened a long time back, but still felt as if it happened yesterday. Adnan looked at the city for one last time, and started moving away.
Eyes remained stuck over the roof of Al-Manzar hotel while crossing the bridge of Kotri barrage. Thoughts started to recap the past and bitter memories covered my face with deep grief. She came to finish off the affair on the roof of AlManzar hotel few years ago. We had remained silent for hours that day near the iron barrier around the marble roof of the hotel. “Everything will be all right, you don’t worry”. It was like I had broken the silence of centuries. “I will soon get a good job and then your father won’t have any reservations.” Sindhu’s father was not happy about our love, he had already promised a bureaucrat for her. And to undo such a good match for the person like me was not viable for him. For I was someone who can offer his daughter nothing except the bogus promises and unrealistic and impracticable dreams. Sometimes I agreed with him. “Nothing will be right.” She said accumulating all her energies together. “You don’t know, Sindhu! I have been reaching to the front of the queues in itwaar bazaar of degrees and I have succeeded in collecting many degrees. I will soon become a big bureaucrat. I have always remained fan of the irate and furious faces of bureaucrats and the time is not too far when there will be many fans of mine.” I tried to change her mood. Sindhu, who used to double over laughing just over little jokes was standing like a statue before me; joy was at the distance of centuries from her face. “Poverty is curse. Faraaz!” she said in odious manner. “We have enhanced in poverty faster than the science. We will never be able to live our lives as we like. As we imagine. As we plan.
“Our country is going to break records in economic boost, due to the better and brilliant policies of this government.” I said. “Haven’t you read the report in yesterday’s papers!” she exclaimed. “That is due to the ten years old policies” I said interrupting her, “the situation has changed now. This government is focusing over economic broadly. You can’t understand Sindhu! but I can. Because I am post graduate in economics.” I told her about my degree to make my point of view strong. “Yes! I understand how much you know about economics just because of your itwaar bazaar degrees” she criticized. “Even if you are right, till the results of present policies of this government come, will we be alive? We were silent again, I turned my eyes and saw into the Indus River which was quiet at all and sand was blowing instead of high tides. “This is our last meeting…” she said. Words can be this pitiless and hurting, I had never realized before. “We will go Karachi tomorrow and will live there till … my….wed...d...ing...” words were blocking in her throat. She could not complete her sentence and left the hotel and went away from my eyes forever. Grief that day crossed the limits. I had never experienced such a thorny situation before. Feelings can never be described in words but I remember that for a moment that day I thought to leave myself in the river. But soon I realized that there is not a single drop of water in Indus River and if my backbone is fractured instead of a successful suicide, circumstances may be more convoluted than now.
So I delayed suicide till when there's water in the river.
In the vast stretch it was the four of them, over speeding in an old two-door, silver Mustang. The stretch was lifeless; barren and desolate. Hard gravel stones lay bare till the horizon with the sun shining so ruthlessly that the sky had gone pale. The pale blue sky and dry land with thorny bushes whirling around seemed so soothing to their eyes that they were certain that the thing they had been searching for lies somewhere around. The place had an uncanny similarity with what they had seen in their unconsciousness. Alex, the vocalist, was steering the car. With his distinguished nose and a Spanish cut beard, he did not look dissimilar to other people in their early twenties. Although his hazel eyes craved for something, something so great in magnitude and so vague in definition that he himself wasn’t sure what that was, he did not look excessively striking in his plain black T-shirt and dull blue denim. This was an idea he had left far behind himself. The thoughts of the other three weren’t very different too. Mark, the drummer, sat besides Alex. With the same creed in his eyes, he stared right ahead, hoping that it might just emerge in front of him. His unkempt hair fell nicely over his shoulders and was faded enough to be easily confused with his Maroon colored Tshirt. He was clean shaven with strong build, probably hugest of the four. Mike was bald and wore a navy-blue P-cap with 23 embroidered on it, in white, just above the shade. He was dressed in black.
Sitting behind Alex, he stared deep into the wilderness that ran-past him. He wasn’t too sure if he would be able to find what he had longed for through out his teenage, yet was in no doubt that it was the same thing the other three wished for. Mike had been taught through out his years that life is an affair of merriness but an undecipherable moment had taught him otherwise, and did it so strongly that he forgot his life-time teaching and got into solving the mathematical intricacies of that moment. It was the same moment which had forced him to take up music and later he evolved as the lead-guitarist. Fourth one was the bassist, Fred, sitting behind Mark. Having a jaw-line beard and a crew-cut hair, he was definitely the only one among them who cared marginally about his looks. He was wearing a black vest with tattoos visible on his shoulders and chest most of which were unintelligible lines, making no sense to the “socalled” sane people but they had a deeper meaning for him. His ideas were not too different from the rest of the bunch. They all wanted the same thing, in fact loved it, but not being sure what it was, were never in peace. They were over speeding on roads that hardly saw a vehicle. Almost on impulse, Alex steered the car off the road, into the thorny wilderness of the desert. Going at the same speed he let a cloud of dust into the air as he sped deeper into the desert. They were not sure where they were headed but were certain that it was a step taken in search of their love. Mark stretched out
his left arm and turned on the radio. They heard a familiar voice: If you want to get your soul to heaven, Trust in me. Don't judge or question. You are broken now, But faith can heal you. Just do everything I tell you to do. Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow. Let me lay my holy hand upon you. My Gods will Becomes me. When He speaks, He speaks through me. They looked at each other and gave a weak smile. This was the song they had been listening to since long ago. They had even covered it in front of a bunch of people. This was the song that had made them take up music because the song had a shade of what they actually wanted. This song was the best illustration of their ideas they. A long drum solo and the song faded away and so did their patience. Alex jammed on the brakes and a huge cloud of dust spread out. All four of them got out of the car and without even saying a word stood juxtaposed staring into the space, thinking of whatever they had done to seek their love. They had even started on hashish and opium, trying as hard as they could to get out of the trauma they experienced every passing second of their lives. They did not want to let any stone remain unturned in order to get psychological peace. They stood
there until the sun lost its uncanny heat and turned into a mere reddish-orange circle, but uttered not a single word. They got into the car and Alex steered all four of them onto the road again. Alex had reduced the speed by a few miles per hour and amazingly a car came from behind and over took them. Not infuriated by the sense of defeat but by the fear that the person in the other car might find what they had been looking for first, Alex switched to sixth gear and pushed the other car offroad and sped on. Speed on these roads could virtually affect no one because of the distantness of the place but because of the flaws policemen had inherited due to being humans, they didn’t want anyone to surpass their assumed authority. After several unfruitful chases on motor bikes the police tracked the Silver Mustang on satellite and placed high concrete barriers, with a gap of just few inches between them, at distance of about three miles from the car. Four of them sped on and on until the concrete barrier came into sight. All of them looked through the gap between the barriers they could see their love, the enlightenment they had been looking for. The enlightenment they had wanted since forever shone from across the barriers and they smiled harder than they had done in the past five years. Alex pressed harder on to the accelerator with all four of them staring at the enlightenment that lay beyond. They kept on going until they collided with the barriers. The car burst into flames as the bonnet of the Mustang flew off and fell on the other side of the barriers.
Once upon a time, I was sitting on a tree watching ladybirds crawl on the branch beside mine, oblivious to my gaze. A couple of caterpillars who were munching holes in the leaves which were already submitting to autumn’s approach, sat beside me too. I felt no pity for the tarnished beauty of the leaves.
It was ironic, how she lived in a mansion at the riverside-which thrived with minnows- had designer dresses and a real bed, but didn’t have enough to eat because of a father who thought girls should eat less if they wanted any respectable suitors approaching them. "Respectable ladies should be as thin as the rake in my garden shed," used to The sunlight of the sinking sun warmed croak the old man of hers, "Especially lamy back but I continued to sit on the firm dies who live under my roof!" branch, swinging my legs aimlessly, and waiting. She had to come today, she had While I, living under the stars, on a bed of promised. And just when I was going to heather from the endless meadows, had jump down from the tree to give up and plenty to eat due to the plethora of rabto go on hunt for tonight’s dinner, I saw bits and if lucky, a deer sometimes. And her appear, in a cerise dress, breathless. I thus, this was the unspoken deal of ours; gave her a shout from up the tree, when she would lend me her old clothes - they she squinted her hazel eyes in confusion looked quite new to me - and I would at my absence. share my daily hunt with her. We both stared at each other and smiled, forgetting yesterday’s quarrel. I unwrapped my greasy newspaper packet and produced a roasted rabbit which I had caught just that morning. But to my utter astonishment she refused my offer. I didn't remember a single day when she hadn't grabbed my offer and gobbled it as if, had she waited, it would have disappeared. I even had two tomatoes with it today. Today had been a good day for me, a rabbit easily hunted down and a couple of fresh tomatoes found inside someone’s picnic bag.
l
‘
T e s p w t
‘ m w
R h n
‘ b ‘Rover hasn't returned from his last s night’s walk yet,’ I told her, worried. Rover was the black spaniel who I had res- ‘ cued from the river, during the last mon- k soon season. s b ‘Oh… um, maybe he just wandered afar I somewhere, he likes to do that, besides t the meadows are endless…’ she contin- m ued to drone on. Even though she had t never liked Rover, she seemed nervous. t r ‘Probably,’ I replied, ‘why didn't you want l to eat the rabbit? Have you started be- b
lieving in your father’s philosophy? ‘
‘No, I just don’t feel hungry anymore.’
That was unusual, but I didn’t interrogated her. If she wanted to tell, she would spill out the beans herself, without me pushing her. Besides, her loss of appetite was saving me the trouble of hunting for the night as well, so why persuade her?
‘Okay, then if you don’t want to have your meal, let’s search for Rover,’ I replied while dusting myself.
Reluctantly she followed me. I soon exhausted my lungs after shouting his name for so long and sat down, giving up.
‘Sarah, you won’t find him,’ She timidly broke the silence. ‘Why?’ I asked. I felt my stomach sinking.
‘Because my father shot him last night, he kept on barking under his window. We sisters, desperate with hunger cooked his brains when Father went back in to sleep. I am sorry.’ She explained and with a trembling lip she ran away to her dark mansion where an old man smoked his tobacco pipe, while I stood under the setting sun, staring at friendship broken and realizing that the only creature who loved me the most, had his brains in my best friend’s stomach.
Asteroids and Hu By Hamayal Wajid Lodhi
umans
The asteroid was hurtling straight for my huge head. Even though the moment when it split my head into two was fairly far away, my brain was already starting to think thoughts on its own. It seemed as if it had finally given up depending on me to come up with solutions and had frantically started thinking up anything it was capable of thinking. And here I was thinking that my brain was functioning on its own and I realized I was making no sense at all. I was running through the thick growth of trees, not bothering to avoid the needle covered branches, or even the rope like roots tangled on the forest floor. It was quicker to fall and get up than avoid falling and falling anyway, then getting up. Now was not the time for being careful. It was either injured or dead meat. I heard the whooshing sound of something heavy flying through the air, a high-pitched whistling sound accompanied by the smell of burnt wood, which at that moment I realized must be the smell of death. To my utter surprise, I escaped the asteroid. It crashed into the side of a cliff reducing it to rubble. I lifted my eyes to the heavens accusingly and figured that must have been the last of it. It had probably been meant for me, and I had evaded death. I walked out of the forest, and it was only when the trees unblocked my view that I saw my huge family and other clan members dead under the huger, smoking rocks. I spent the time going around doing nothing in particular, coming to terms with being the solitary survivor of the flamed-rock invasion. Many years of sadness and boredom later, new creatures started to appear. A careful study revealed them to be complex units, full of unnecessary detail. Like five fingers. And full of passion; they screamed when they saw me. In the beginning, they went about naked, flashing their bodies full of em-
barrassing detail for the ben look. They were like fussy o shelter. There was too much time. I hid in trees, for I was I was sure they even had a names for everything. Year they built hollow rocks, hug ings, pyramids, houses and Back in my time, we lived were fairly happy with the w storms came, even when th hid in caves and took refu killed and we hunted, only fo feed and to survive, there w Nothing to value in that wor survival. Now it was so diffe went about hiding and learn being discovered, I observed I wondered ever more why mess out of it all intentionall The war started, they killed to make themselves extinct. dio broadcast was when I ‘land’ and a bunch of blokes a couple of others. Whoeve seem a good enough reason life. The next day, there w shooting down more of th shaped things. They destroy tediously build, using slaves as well. So basically, it was d and rebuilding, more death a Even my race lying around a to kill and feed and go back lized. I found myself havi missing the decent and civi inhabited this world that ma to me with every passing da
nefit of anyone who cared to old ladies, fussy about food, h stuff going on at the same s a small sized dinosaur, and name for me for they had s turned into decades and ge things they called buildd turned lands into cities. under the open skies and way things were, even when he sun burnt our backs. We uge under tree shades. We or less complex reasons. To was no honor, no self pride. rld, nothing to die for. Only erent for these people. As I ning, always on the brink of d and with each passing day anyone would make such a ly. and died like insects, trying The day I overheard the raI realized it was all about s called Germans, Hitler and er they were, it sure didn’t n to waste so much of God’s were machines in the sky hose deadly exploding fish yed the city I had seen them s who worked till they died death and destruction, birth and destruction and repeat. all day, only ever getting up k to lying around seem civiing nightmares eventually, ilized beasts who had once ade lesser and lesser sense ay. I eventually realized I did
not know where I was anymore or what I was doing here. I was sure God had transported me to another planet, that the meteor attack had been all a dream. I realized I didn’t want to live in this world anymore. I hence started wandering around fearlessly, no longer afraid of getting bombed or discovered by the humans. Nobody seemed to notice me. Therefore, I left the country and went to a village which belonged to the neighboring country, the name of which I didn’t know, or cared to know. It eventually started to haunt me, not being discovered. I wasn’t huge but I wasn’t that small either. Surely someone would have noticed me. There was an air raid on the night when I arrived; the whole village was wiped out. I still survived. It took me this long to realize that it would take a ghost to survive missile attacks and air bombings. It was the moment when I realized I was caged that it hit me that it was hell I was in. The Hell. Payment-for-all-those-sins-inmy-past-life-hell. I was freaking out now. Suddenly, a grunt. I looked up and saw the familiar face of one of my kind. Staring at me from his heaven abode was the family doctor. A pang of jealousy interrupting my pleasure of seeing him, I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. I realized I hadn’t spoken in a while. The doctor told me to not strain myself, rather mockingly, suddenly making me question his right to heaven. It seemed I was having conflicting thoughts, too many emotions at the same time. To my horror, it hit me I was turning human. I shook my head to clear it and found it on a pillow. I looked down and I was human. I screamed and tried to get the human costume off my body, but it seemed to have become a part of me now. The doctor, I now observed ,also with a human body, but still with a dinosaur head screamed ‘5 ml of something stat’ at me. Next thing, I was unconscious again.
“Mum ting, collid let th pick e like p
This are re tryin
It's t searc whos know rathe and night
"Did matte plodi
This zing, love. grabb ing
"Her them
m says when wanting collides with getthat's the moment of truth. I want to de. I want to run right into Shadow and he force spill our thoughts so we can each other up and pass each other back piles of shiny stones.”
I loved Lucy's character, I could relate to her so much. She's an innocent, honest girl, and a bit crazy at times. She's not afraid to speak the truth and when she wants something, she is a book that shows what teenagers goes for it. Oh, and she's a glassblower eally like. Searching, exploring, always which is pretty awesome. ng to find some meaning in life. “I liked that he had hair that was growing the end of Year 12, and Lucy is out without a plan. A grin that came out of noching for Shadow, a graffiti artist where and left the same way.”
se work is all over the city, but no one ws where he is. Ed, a guy Lucy would er forget about, knows where he is, so they take off around the city at t.
Ed is a high school dropout, who had the misfortune to go out with Lucy in Year 10. He lost his job, and the closest thing he had to a father a while ago. So now he's...lost. And we see how Lucy finds him.
you know we're made up of the same er as stars? We are nuclear energy ex- All the characters were very fun to read ing." about, you can't help but fall in love with them all. The only down point for this takes place over a night, but there's no would be that I didn't get into it enough to bam, look in each others eyes, instant want to finish it immediately. It wasn't all In fact, there's some hilarious arse that engrossing, and I didn't care much for bing, earlobe piercing, and nose break- Poet's writing. I do look forward to reading instead. more Cath Crowley in the future though!
words are pictures, and I'm painting “For a while, for as long as you're looking at m on the wall in my head as she talks." it, that painting is the world and you get to be in it.”
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