A way with words

Simone Vukotic

Head of Learning - English

 The English faculty actively encourages and guides students to seek activities outside school that can extend their learning beyond the classroom.  Such activities may include short story,  public speaking and debating competitions. Students use these opportunities to challenge themselves and to broaden their reach - consequently learning much from the experience.  This in turn also enhances and enriches their learning within the classroom.

In this spirit, the school community warmly congratulates Harper Hopkins (Year 9) who entered the Merri-Bek Libraries Short Story Competition this year and was awarded the winning entry in her age category.

This competition invited creators of all ages to submit either a written entry (of 500 words or less) or a recorded or filmed entry (of 5 minutes or less).  The theme of the competition this year was around ‘My Happy Place’, and entries were sorted into four age categories for judging.

Harper's winning short story, Train of Thought, is a beautifully written and atmospheric piece - and will make you think differently about your next train trip!

Harper Hopkins

Year 9

The Merri-Bek Libraries Short Story Competition was a really fun way to get my creative juices flowing, with the prompt of ‘My Happy Place’. 

I enjoyed the challenge of setting the scene with only 500 words, and I am glad I took this opportunity to display my work. 

Train of Thought

My happy place is timeless, one might say. But it relies on the existence of time to run. It is almost never empty, but always feels it. The emptiness is crucial to its appeal. It is constantly moving, but you are not. It is even more confusing at night. Who knows what you might find on the tracks if you look too long. What the announcer is saying in an alien language far away. You walk fast, head down, earphones in. Everyone is suspicious at night. No one is who you think they are, even you. The piercing horn of the train is not to warn you that it is coming, it is to warn something else. You board, find a seat, study the few people around you. One is sleeping. You know better. Dreams are weird in this place, if you spend too long in them, who knows what will happen to you. The rest of them stare straight ahead mindlessly. Their heads bob, swaying from side to side in a crude unison. Uniformity is inevitable, though everyone here differs. Do not look out the windows. Keep your eyes inside the carriage at all times. You will always hear buzzing. That is okay, it is how you know you are safe. When it stops is when you must worry. Do not put both feet on the ground at night, always keep at least one rested on your knee or on the chair opposite. The anticipation is constant whether leaving or returning. Reality is a mortal concept in this place, it is liminality is infinite. It is an ambiguous in-between space, a gateway, an escape. It is a dreamlike state, punctured only by thought. The primary-coloured seats have words in an alien language, perhaps the one the announcer was speaking at the platform a million years ago. The stark lighting highlights the glitter on the floor, but also the foil of a chip packet left two seats away. It is modern ethereality, urban illusion. A woman stares down at you from an advertisement on the wall. You could have sworn she had brown eyes before, but now they are a bright blue. She looks away, embarrassed. You settle into your chair, adjusting for the long night ahead. Any wariness about the dangers has long since passed, and you succumb to the weight of sleep on your eyelids and your bones. 

I dare you,  you say to the unknown. 

I dare you to take me now.