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Sinking FastWe pulled away from the harbor and I set the course for the next port. My delivery was important. Setting the wheel for the right bearing I watched as the land faded away into the distance. As soon as we were on the right course I went down into the cabin and lied back on my bed. I closed my eyes and put everything that had happened to the back of my mind.
As the ship rocked I slowly drifted off to sleep. CRASH!! I jolted out of bed and saw water pouring everywhere. We had sailed right into the midst of a huge storm! I opened the hatch and looked down into where the hold should have been, but all I could see was inky black water. The room I was standing in was already half full of water. How could I have slept through that? I suddenly became very worried, but shook myself and decided how to deal with the situation.
The SpeechI am happy to be here with you today, in what will be the biggest demonstration for equality in the history of the world.
On March 31st 1942, the Second World War ended. That great day, where the people of earth gathered in celebration. The day the fighting stopped and humanity had a hope of peace. Male or Female, White or Coloured, Religious or not religious. People from every age group, from every ethnicity, from every continent, all brought together by that one event.
But sixty-eight years later, we see that the world is still not at peace. The world is still sadly crippled by famine, poverty, murder, discrimination, oppression and so many other things it would take a man a lifetime to write them down. We must face the truth that the end of the world will not be from an earthquake, or a tsunami or a meteorite. It will be from us. We are slowly killing each other off. One man sits on another's back until it breaks. And when all the men's backs are broken there will be no one to fix t
Street BloodDarkness. There is no sound. Not even my breathing penetrates the deathly silence. The dull lamplight of a typical London street cannot dispel the heavy shadow that hangs over me. My own personal raincloud. I told myself it couldn't get worse. Funny how it always does. The only things I have are the blood in my veins and the clothes on my back. Lost, alone and forgotten. About as important as the pavement I sit on.
I lift my head up, brushing my long brown hair out of my eyes. All matted and filled with dirt. I used to be pretty, or so my boyfriend said. But that was a long time ago. So long I can barely remember. The thought pains me and so I stop thinking and listen. Down the road a dog barks, a car alarm goes off, laughter erupts from the pub, the sounds blending in with the steady pitter patter of the never-ending rain. I don't remember when I last laughed.
Two men, drunk, stumble down the road, shouting meaningless insults at the empty street.
The TelescopeI walk slowly into the room. The floor is covered with a rusty red carpet, the circular walls are painted a soothing cream-brown, with various paintings hanging in ornately carved pinewood frames. In the centre, a huge machine stands before me, its brass body reflecting the light coming from the oil lamps mounted on the walls. Its great cylinder pokes through the tall dome-like ceiling high above, like an enormous tree pushing its way up through the earth.
Outside is the pitch black night, populated by tiny pinpricks of pure white light that have journeyed from faraway stars and galaxies. As I place my eye to the eyepiece the sheer immensity of the universe overwhelms me. I'm marooned on a small island, in an endless sea. Confined to a tiny spit of sand, unable to escape. But tonight, on this small planet I can see the universe as it is. All of God's creation is within my grasp.
High above is the moon, the watchful guardian of the night sky. Every crater vividly stands out through the
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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