Below are the winning entries of City of Bristol College's Creative Writing Competition. A huge congratulations to our winners and a massive 'thank you' to all who entered.
By 'Progression Into Independence' studying at Ashley Down Centre
(Sammy, Kyle, Chantal, Cadwell, Cain, Radha, Beth)
The Pirate Ship
By Progression into Independence Students studying at Ashley Down Centre
(Mohammed, Rakin, Alia, Noah, Jordan, Muna, Michael)
We were on a pirate ship on the water. There was a beautiful and interesting sunset.
We were digging under the sea, looking for treasure. We found 700 golden coins in a shiny, red box.
“We need ten thousand,” said Jordan.
“Or ten million,” said Muna.
It started to get colder. We woke up under a tree on a small, magic island. It was snowing. It was cold, freezing and slippery.
We saw a bridge. There were steps under the bridge. The steps led to a secret tunnel. The secret tunnel led to a secret lair. In the secret lair was a friendly dragon. He was light green, had one head and a long tail.
The dragon put fire on us. We sneaked under the dragon and took the coins. We put them in a big box and carried them as a group back to the ship.
Another ship came alongside us. It was called the Evil Ship. It had a Cross & Bones flag. They fired on us and our boat sank. We jumped off. The water tasted disgusting. Like cheese! We felt terrified. There were black Goblin Sharks in the water with really sharp teeth like vampires. We fired a flare. Another ship came out and rescued us. They said "do you want some tea or food?"
We came back to Bristol. There were four people missing – the staff. They had been eaten by Goblin Sharks.
But we were overjoyed to be home.
MIAOWWW! By Colin Brown, Fd Counselling
There you are! Snoozing in the morning sun, on the lawn near the University Centre door, the neighbourhood cats call you O Dáskalos (but that’s not your real name), no wonder you’re lazing with the z’s, considering what you did last night!
… Flash-Cat-Back to the night before …
Feeling the intimation of an itch, you step out into the night, and anyone catching a glimpse of you sighs, mesmerised by your bedazzling black coat, your sharp pointed ears, your (sparking) green eyes and your cool paws, did you see that? What? A twitch of your tail, and you’re gone.
The moon is singing a weird song, clouds sail upon a Witchwind and the air is ominous, miaowww! You’re the familiar of the dreaming night, all your sinews electricity, all your senses wild – LOOK! It’s the infamous dangerous Ginger Tom Psycho-Puss! He attacks! MIAOWWW! And you’re a thousand flashes of forked lightning, Ginger Tom Psycho-Puss doesn’t stand a chance, see him running away for his lives.
Step deep into the shadows, stepping through the in-between, you used to wear a collar said My Name is Halloween (but that’s not your real name).
And you know, you know when the Moon gets this way, when the Witchwind blows and the great clouds roll, you know what’s coming! Sssssss! Rain! And each drop as big as a hellhound’s slavering jaws.
You’re dancing round rain-drops, doorway to door, a silhouette on sheltering walls, don’t freak out, you’re almost there: the house on Dongola Road, down the path, the window’s open, you jump inside, music’s playing,
DJ’s putting a new set together, jazz, funk and soul, the music speaks to you, speaks to your bedazzling black coat, your sharp pointed ears, your (sparking) green eyes and to your cool paws, speaks on a hot line to your deep, deep itch. DJ sees you.
DJ knows just what you need, flicks through albums with one hand, strokes, scratches, soothes you with the other, it’s jazz transfusion, riffs, breaks, polyrhythms, you love those polyrhythms! More improvisation on those harmonic sequences please mmmmm… swing, hot and sweet, looser now, more versatile, more… complex, be-bop baby, texture deep, easing your itch with familiar funky, soulful tunes, lighting your blood and you’re melting into exquisite catscapes infused with a solo rooted in another melody altogether wild, till, till, till all your lithe body becomes one breathing, trembling… puuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
And you’re out of the window, back on the street, the history of jazz tripping up and down your spine, and trembling with excitement you leap higher, higher than ever before, higher still than the surging street, higher than the rooftops and the City of Bristol College, higher than the rain and the clouds, and at the sight of you the Witchwind catches her breath and the black sky is your mirror and you’re feline divine and One Star Shining winks at you and the Moon smiles,
Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat where have you been?