Rinna

Joined August 2021

3 stories

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Stories (3)

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Down by the River
Meadowbank Ferry Wharf, May 26, 2019, Sunday 3: 36 am A strong gusts of wintry wind blew as she held tightly to her thick dark coat. She blinked momentarily and gathered her hair together. She’s been out early since three in the morning, a strange time to be awake at this sleepy suburb in Sydney. The silence was eerily deafening. She could her heart thumping violently as she screamed in her mind. Hugging her knees, she rested her chin on them and looked blankly on the floor. The wharf wobbled as the waves crashed underneath.
By Rinna4 years ago in Criminal
The Return of the Princess of the Scarlet Macaws
The story was as ancient as the forest of Ima in Belize. It has existed for as long as the creatures in these perpetually drenched rainforest lived. It has been told and passed on from lips to lips, from generations of old until today. Many of those who heard shoved off the story as a mere legend, a narrative to impart to their children to remind them of the consequences of disobedience. Some of the animal kingdoms took advantage of its literary wealth. A thousand coded trees bears the records of the stories of fables, legends and visions of the captivity and the return of the Scarlet Macaw princess who would rule the kingdom of Ima.
By Rinna4 years ago in Fiction
Writing when You don't Want to
Let me tell you what it is like for me to write at this stage of my life. Here I am staring at my computer screen, two pillows supporting my aching back, a soft blanket wrapped around my feet and the sound of the passing cars momentarily taking me back to the present, I gathered all my fleeting will to type words. It doesn't matter whether it makes sense right now. It will make sense, for whatever it is worth. I pressed the keyboard and wrote whatever word, my fidgeting brain processed for me. What a whirlwind of agonising thoughts. I was transported back to the past and forced to remember what it is like in reality. As if a syringe containing a considerable dosage of envy was injected in my blood, I felt the pangs of jealousy. The night was still and everyone else I know must be asleep. Look how tempting the silence is. Slumbering is sweet! And tomorrow they are ready for the day while you detest the sound of the passing vehicles and the ray of sunlight hitting right through your face. Was it me talking to myself in the middle of the night? I swear I heard someone say, "Do you really want to go through this again? I mean what for?" As if to highlight the err in this decision, Simon Sinek's voice that tells me to 'know your why' was reverberating in my head. I should have a badge of honour in watching too many podcasts. "What a wonderful machine you are," I silenced my mind. I know how overthinking can be quite paralysing. I decided to just take the plunge and whatever comes, I'll take it with courage. If that sounded brave and hopeful, you read me wrong. I'm apprehensive and if I'm being honest, I'm a bit disappointed towards myself. "What is it about you that couldn't seem to divorce the love for words and for writing?" I heard myself out loud. "I don't have to be reminded of the arduous process, the sleepless nights, the struggle against self doubt, I know all of it, thank you very much!" It was a cold-hearted and sharp reply to attention seeking voice in my head. I kept going...
By Rinna4 years ago in Motivation