Creative Corner is a space to share your creative writing at Roar! We hope you’ll enjoy the short stories we publish, all of which are written by current KCL students.
The sky outside the window is intriguing; the sea of black clouds resembling cracked pavement. If I look closely, they look like drifting waves with their greyish highlights obtaining an abstract similarity to a salty sea’s froth.
This endless black sea is slashed in half by a thin gradient line deep in the horizon. One could clearly distinguish the opposing colours found at the head and the tail of the line, transcending from a bright orange to a vibrant pink. When inspecting the centre though, the hues are ambiguously intertwined, making it impossible to detect the point at which the two colours are separated. This view, this mingling of colours and shades excites my eyes.
There is blue above the dark clouds. The familiar prototype-kind of blue that comes to mind when thinking of a night sky. It’s a mere blue, with a few dreary, almost transparent clouds that look like sloppy, white brush strokes. It adds a lightness to the heavy, serious-looking blue, as though an artist’s paintbrush happily danced along the sky. Above there is only a singular star shining.
I thought about this image that I so enjoyed. I imagine coming across it in an art gallery as a realistic, modern piece. It would be a mix of acrylic and water paint, possibly even some pencil here and there, attempting to capture the animated aliveness of the sky.
For some inexplicable reason, I don’t believe I would have resonated with this artwork to the level I did with the view out my window. Come to think of it, I would probably not award it a second glance. As I picture myself standing across from this piece, examining it, having no previous memory or knowledge of the scene which I currently only need to tilt my head to see, I think I would have condemned it as mediocre.
No matter whether I’m enamoured with the colours, the lines, the strokes; I believe that I would have thought such a composition boring. Most importantly, I would not regard it as true. There indubitably is no way through which I could come to believe that the sky had ever taken such a pose. The realistic aspect that usually appeals to me is thereby thrown in the trash.
That being said, the colour, shapes and lines would not in any way be absurd enough for my interest to be allured by their peculiarity.
As I finish writing this now, the sky has darkened. The once dynamic pink and orange, now seem faintish, as if they have begun to succumb to the dark sky. The line is fading much too rapidly and I’m sure that next time I lift my head from my notepad and look out my window it will be completely gone. I have not managed to snap a picture of this musical image. The fleeting nature of it makes me hope I did an adequate job of describing it, as this is an image I would not want lost from my memory. At last, the line is gone.
You can send your short stories, poetry or creative nonfiction to [email protected]
