Global Classroom Creative Writing Anthology 2015
An Appointment in Autumn
Upper Secondary
HIGHLY
COMMENDED
‘More than a description of an unforgettable place. This piece really tells a story. It’s an achievement to create a narrative in so few words:
to establish atmospheric place and action, to create a sudden revelation, to make time pass, and to leave the reader with a sense of some
terrible past event.’
As I walk up the path, I anxiously regard the gate that I am slowly approaching. The gate is painted black, but after the wear and tear of many Canadian winters the finish is
chipped and peeling, revealing the rusty iron concealed underneath. Somebody put a lot of effort into designing this gate; there is a series of intricate engravings along each
bar. The engravings are beautiful; it’s unfortunate that not many people see them. Running my fingers across the rough handle, suddenly I am nervous. I haven’t seen my
sister in a year. What will I say? Our last meeting left me very emotional, and I find myself hesitant to return. With a surge of confidence I yank open the door, dislodging the
dry, dead October leaves from the wrought iron bars, sending them spiralling towards the frozen ground.
I step into the brown grass and look around me. There are looming trees everywhere, casting long shadows across the ground. I can see that when this place was originally
built the cypresses had been planted carefully in straight rows. However, over the years the lack of maintenance on the yard had allowed the trees to multiply, sprinkling
saplings everywhere. Between each trunk is a stone. There are hundreds of stones but I don’t need a map to know where to go; I remember the layout so clearly that I could
find my sister with my eyes closed. Although my steps are deliberate, I feel the vicious wind steering me away from my destination. Above me, a flock of geese fly southwards
in a perfect V-shape. If they can fight the bitter wind, so can I.
By the time I find my sister, my fingers and toes are freezing. I am at a loss for words. I stretch my arm out tentatively to give her the now-frozen flowers I brought. She doesn’t
take them so I drop them and they land silently in the long, weed-ridden grass. Until now I had managed to remain calm but all of sudden I can’t take it. The air is full of death,
choking me. The smell of rotting leaves fills my nostrils, poisoning my lungs, muddling my brain; I collapse. Dead leaves, dead flowers, and dead people are everywhere!
Tears stream down my face as I think of my sister’s name. No matter how many times I scream for her or trace each letter on her tombstone, she never comes back. A raven’s
mocking call echoes in my ears.
It’s night now and I lie back to look at the cloudless sky. After the accident, people often told me that when someone dies their soul becomes a star.
As I look up at the symphony of lights above me, I sincerely hope that this is true. I stand up and the pendulous movement of the trees makes me feel
like they’re clapping for me. I kiss my sister goodbye and walk back to the gate. As I leave the land of the dead, the raven continues to mock me. The
autumn wind sings a melancholy tune as it pushes me home and I shudder. An unforgettable place; I couldn’t forget it if I tried.
Written by Bronwyn Tonelli, Year 10, Collège Champittet Pully
44
Upper Secondary
HIGHLY
COMMENDED
Lesmurdie National Park
‘Simply a beautiful place, beautifully written - atmospheric, observant, sustained. It follows the course of a walk, conveying image, scent,
sound, and awareness of animal life hidden and seen, of the passage of time and the failing of light, the threat of the end of day when the wild
will take over again.’
As the path snakes over the hill and between the gums of Lesmurdie National Park in Western Australia, the setting sun casts its orange-red glow down through the trees
and over the scraggly brush. Underfoot, there is a crunch from the rusty red track, beaten into the ground by ramblers and dog-walkers ambling past the blackened
stems and spiny hair of grass trees. The smell of the gum flowers smacks your senses and overpowers you throughout the park with its distinct, sweet odour. The path
lies contentedly over the bush as it