S4 – Int 2 – Creative Writing

Here is the link to the mindmap we modelled in class.

In addition to the mindmap, here is a sample section:

My coffee mug was a reassuring thing: safe, dependable, an ally in times of difficulty. If I ever had a deadline to meet, it was the one thing that would consistently help me through it. I had written articles for the local newspaper, for magazines and even for collections of journalism, and if I were being absolutely true to my sources, my battered Mexico ’86 World Cup mug should have had a credit in everything I had ever committed to paper. It was worrying when I saw it start to move on its own.

Slowly, imperceptibly at first, I saw it judder. For a moment I thought I was imagining it, or that it was me, having drunk three cups already that morning, that was shaking and not the mug. With a furrowed brow I stopped typing and stared for a moment. No doubt about it, it was shaking.

I looked across the office at my colleagues. None of them looked up from their work. The hubbub of activity at the paper continued as it did on any other day. I tried to put the mug out of my head and tried to get back to my computer screen. It’s all in your head I told myself. Buy some decaf at lunch. Then my table lurched and, looking up, I could see everyone had noticed that one. My coffee had spilled over the edge and onto the floor. For a moment, everyone seemed to stand still, waiting for something.

In the lull I glanced outside. It was only now that I began to understand something was wrong; very wrong. Across the street I saw the pavement crack like a whip – a line cut through the concrete as though it were butter. Pedestrians, not sure where to put their feet, began to fall and stumble. Cries began to emerge from sidestreets and faintly, in the distance, I could make out louder noises; deeper, more sinister noises.

With an abrupt slam, the entire room seemed to stumble and bookcases fell to the floor, throwing their contents across tables and chairs. The tables themselves collapsed and pictures fell from the wall. As though from another room, I heard a colleague shouting at me: “Get away from the window and downstairs. It’s a terrorist attack!”

I brought my wits back to me and stood, and then everything seemed to rush upwards. All the furniture, my colleagues, plants and people. I was sinking; the building was collapsing. I felt the air rush past my face and my heart seemed to stop. I must have passed out before I had time to feel anything else.

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