Young Writers

My birdcage, your classroom
Kiara Simoes

“Click. Click.
Click. Click.
Click.
With every lethal gesture of my retractable pen, I itchingly anticipated the catastrophic click that would propel one of my precious classmates to their breaking point. My only amusement in an otherwise shitty hour. Run-of-the-mill whiffs of expired Aqium hand sanitiser, synthesised with the whispered brush strokes of liquid white-out. Cardinal-shaded walls crammed with words of wisdom and questionable epiphanies. My blank page taunted me. Outside of this seemingly eternal birdcage, Sydney’s skies mumbled a dull grey as the red gums yawned …”