This fire was so rampant and dramatic. Thirty seconds and the whole house is in flames! Good job, a light and compelling story - something I love.

I think Chernobyl should be evacuated because we'll be all contaminated with radiation.. Anyways, good article, enjoyed reading it - it looked attractive and simple.

Volcanic eruption looks beautiful ?

I don't need to say anything, it's already in my name.

May the best clan be crowned winner in 2021

2020 has been quite the depressing year. Let's hope good fortune lays in the arms of 2021! I'm hungry to know your optimistic goals for the coming year. I want to see ambitious goals because those who want to succeed in life go miles away from their comfort zone. I'll share mine with you for a start: 1. I want to learn a new language, preferably between Spanish, German or Arabic. 2. I want to help my parents out more with cooking, cleaning and whatever I can do for them. 3. I want to become a productivity grease monkey and achieve grades to the best of my ability and thrive to study medicine.

I've no idea what I just voted for: I rarely play MM. I voted for Gauss EMP, Hopper, Heavyweight and Crisis

Have a great start to the new year! Lets get our new years resolution written down. ?

Well done all! I'm honoured to be even a part of the AWS (:

Here's something I cooked up just for you all. It's based on arriving at an island and it's first impressions of the place and people. As I placed one foot out from my wooden boat, and the next foot out, my feet decided to plant themselves into the sand. My eyes felt like it didn’t know how to blink at that moment as I was awe-struck by what my eyes witnessed. In front of me was a place filled with the unending grains of golden sand, as if the whole island was made out of gold itself. Shimmering blue waters that sparkled in the presence of the sunlight encircled the island. Greenery spread out all around the island, with patches of different coloured flowers that grew among bushes occasionally. In a distance was a majestic waterfall that looked like a sheet of blue velour swishing down, its edges hemmed with whipped-white lines. The water thundered down into the pool like a gigantic waterspout. Just as I arrived, it so happened the sky began to glow as the flaming orb rose from the horizon and ignited the sky, causing it to burst into a bright, passionate mix of scarlet and yellow. The clouds had no place in the morning sky as the majestic sun reigned supreme. The colours of the sky blended perfectly with the colours of the scenery. Its ineffable beauty was like a masterpiece painted by Picasso that came to life, lying right in front of my eyes. As I was finally able to take control of my body, I walked towards the island, with my feet brushing against the silky, smooth sand. The feeling of the sand in between my toes reminded me of my childhood where I spent a reasonable amount of time at the beach. The stream of dark, glossy waves falling over my shoulder swayed to one side as the gentle breeze blew. Palm trees swayed with synchronisation as if it was choreographed dance. I rested my eyelids and instantly, my ears could pick up the unnoticeable sounds of nature. An orchestra of birds chirped harmoniously to a melody that soothed the ears of a person, the leaves rustled softly in the breeze as they fell and fluttered like snowflakes. The calming, repetitive sounds of the lapping waves came together in gently, a hypnotic melody, casting a spell of serene tranquillity over the mesmerizing scene. From a distance, I heard the sounds of words being said, though I could not make out what the words were. I started to regain my sight as my eyelids gradually lifted. Tiny figures from afar were heading towards my direction. There were humans living in this place that seemed like a dreamed paradise, how fortunate for them to live in such a place, I whispered to myself. I jogged lightly towards them, eager to meet them. Finally, we were close enough to communicate with each other as we shook hands and introduced each other. The smiles and excitement on their faces were welcoming and inviting as if they had known me for ages. As they spoke, they were filled with energy and liveliness, their personalities made one feel like a part of their family. Their characters fitted perfectly with the view of this paradise island, a place where the world seemed flawless, a world where there’s the insignificance of money and fame. After my personal encounter with this place, I finally believed there was a heaven on earth. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ This was actually the writing that I had done for my exam which I got really good marks on. I thought it was worth sharing so that I could have your perspective and feedback. Anything you think I could've done to improve, don't hesitate to leave a comment. I don't bite, I promise. I cherish you all!

I must say, this story is completely engaging. It kept my eyes glued to the very end. What I loved most was you almost rarely put "The" in front a sentence because, of course, it's a boring way to proceed with. And also, that man; oh I love that man. How strange and queer he is! The horror and constant feeling of paranoia the student experiences was just horrifying. I look forward to reading more from you.

Well yes, you are right, it has been a full week before you managed to approve this. I presume it is due to your three heavy blocks that you have signed up for that are making you tightly busy. On the bright side, I am thankful for your feedback and edits! You know, all the people who have read my writing say the same thing; I always alter between the past and present tense! Good thing you pointed that out. Next Halloween, I may just continue with this but Christmas is coming just around the corner so I think I may write something related to 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens. I'll try and give it my best.

First and foremost, this article is fantastic. It has almost every quality that I look for: compelling, structured well and it's so understandable! Great work, mate. It would have been a tad better if you wrote more, kind of manipulate the data in a sense. Deeper depth analysis. That's what intrigues me, those fine details. I would love to read more articles from you in the future!

Lost and lonely, I hastily yet nonchalantly trudged along the narrow pathway filled with the flesh of decayed corpses and thick blood. Stumbling from the many rocks planted inside the ground – sometimes completely falling over – I heard the birds triumphantly crying as if something was waiting for me and hiding until it was the right time to pounce. It was 4pm on a bitter and cold November. The sun breathed its last dose across the forest, with only millimetres reaching me as interlocked branches and trees squeezed together to prevent anything invading past them. In the ferocious wind, the trees lashed and crashed against each other like drum sticks in the hands of a giant. As I nervously attempted to look past them, the trees were the only thing in sight, smiling at me like silent sentries. I had no light, no phone, nothing. I was doomed. Why had I been placed in the wrong place at the wrong time? I imagined the latest news for our county: ‘Teen boy missing for three days’, stamped on every lamppost, door, and shop. Clinging desperately on the branches were the half-dead leaves, crumbling into pieces as it gets mauled by the merciless wind. The wind kniving my cheeks howls as it reverberates inside my ear; the din is almost deafening. I feel dizzy and begin to imagine things in front of me: shadows, little girls with their horrifying black hair in front of them, dolls, the grim reaper! Petrified at the sensation of a phantom stroking my shoulder, I stumble into a choking, acidic air that tasted like sour blood. Trepidation had struck me as it had never done before. Goosebumps over goosebumps, shivering from both the cold and sheer fear and the bursting urge to scream for help. But no one would be there. I could feel my hands firmly locked with something, like two love couples holding hands – clearly, this was not a date, but a nightmare. My boots were covered with wet mud and soil, squashing at every step, and strangling my feet tight. My eyelids were covered with dust, and I could sense insects in my eyebrows, they too searching for safety. In the distance, I found a very small house; it looked more squalor than what I had been tramping on. Without thinking, I resorted to try and stay in there until the next morning had arrived. A large sign attached was inevitable to see. It said ‘Parkinson Ravens’ with a neat line crossing out the words, which looked like some sort of liquid; however, I was too exhausted to examine it. I gingerly opened the door, nudging the door feebly a good while. The floorboards instantly creaked as I placed my foot. I realised there was a cup of tea placed on a table, steam still coming out. A body was motionlessly on a surgery table; blood gushed out everywhere. Dead bodies were hanging from the ceiling in the other room. As I was about to exit from horror, a large, meaty hand (and I knew this was real) grabbed my left shoulder.

Right, before you say *what the hell is this* - I wrote this out of boredom, to trigger my brain in something productive. Give me some feedback though, any minor details, that's what I'm more interested in!

On a sultry Singapore, mid afternoon, when the sun is highest in the sky, dominating the land and spreading its rays like an angel’s wing, I fix my bike. Squeaky and squalor, I begin to dismantle the parts on the cheap bike, however, the tools required were too expensive to purchase; I’m left with the scraps of metal piled over the floor in which I will – hopefully – sharpen and use. My father, legs crossed over on the chair, absorbing the star cricketers for India as if it were his homework, looks at the bike, and then stares back at his newspaper. It was all going well until I snapped a piece. Examining the error, I lay low in the shade and blatantly stare down, eyes wide, nose narrow, brain activated. I need to fix this bike. How else would I manage to go to school and receive an education? Going to school was half the hassle! Daydreaming and planning and daydreaming, an abrupt idea shot to my brain, sending waves of triumph across my dehydrated cells. It felt like winning a race. The few screws scattered around me were an immense part of my plan. Located next to the wheel of the bike, the brake was there. The brake was broken. It did not press on the wheel when I pressed the brake. The brake was a disaster; it sent me flying twice, when I had paramount documents in the most uttermost mint condition, now scrunched up as if a dozen cars had trampled over them. Dreadful! Every now and then, the booming, roaring noise of motorbike engines reverberating around my eardrums, drifted my focus and persistently slapped my thoughts. I had the urge to swear in Hindi. Swearing in Punjabi, however, was golden. People knew the instant the first word of Punjabi swear left your mouth, it was damn serious. I continued. Frustrated, the screws that were dotted around me had not worked. They were too small, never stuck inside the sockets as I intended. Even though I did not have any professional tools, the superglue, drowned in dust and dried blobs of glue, patiently sat beside me. Almost as if it were begging me to use it with its elegant, white colour I grabbed it without thinking twice. This should work. I am screwed otherwise. Perfecting the last dose of glue onto the wood and screwing it to the bike, it looked horrible; I wasn’t good at engineering. It did the job though: I could ride it. Emerging from my seat after what felt like hours, I hadn’t noticed my brother sitting on the thin, wooden plank in sullen silence. I had only seen his slipper shuffle slightly from the corner of my eye as I had stood up to test the brakes. I look at him and he says: “I’ve got a drill and different kinds of screws in my room. Want them?” At this moment, I was angrier than anything and anyone – my mind was blowing up like a balloon and then popping, several times. After spending so long on this bloody bike, this is what my brother says to me? And of course, I swear in Punjabi for a good while.

Looks like I'll be cooking up something short with 100 words :x

Nice.

Making a rap for aqwzsxedc will take years, if not decades to make. Hopefully, as time flies, the oxford dictionary may have some rhymes that may go with that no-name sir. But, he has left. ;(

I based this on a story by Ridjal Noor who wrote "Anil". In this, there is a 7 year old boy with a mother and father who live in a village in Malaysia. They are in poverty and a murder takes place during midnight when Anil couldn't go sleep and needed to go to the toilet. The next morning, he knew who committed the murder (hanging up a woman) and tells the person who did it himself. So that no one else finds out, he gets sent on a train almost immediately to get a better education. I wrote what happened after 10 years of him being gone from his village and his reaction to when he meets his mother as he arrives back there. Although, his father seems to not be there.

Returning to my homeland As I trudged through the perpetual crowds of people barging through each other and falling like dominos on the floor, I covered my eyes with my hand slipping down on my forehead. It was so busy that there wasn’t even enough space to even breathe in and sweat dripping across every inch of my body; scorching sunlight hammered its rays onto the cooked concrete and whatever came in its territory. The train station was as dirty as I remember. Recognising every house and every person and every death suddenly hits my brain with all these stupefying memories of when I was just a little boy. All these years seemed like it had just happened yesterday. Even now, I could remember the events in my head, reliving the horror which I hadn’t noticed, which proved that I had a lot to learn and the lucky pick of me getting an education was something I wouldn’t regret. Neither would my parents not regret it too. Anxious and delighted, the feeling of getting to talk to my parents, especially my mother, thrills my entire body and I uncontrollably shakes due to the unbearable excitement. Although my father drank alcohol and abused my mother, it was still a moment which I will never forget. Moments away from reaching my small, dusty hut, I see my impatient mother through the corner of my eye, both her eyes darting towards me and me only as tears immediately begin to slide down my cheeks. She runs up to me and does what she always used to do. Her delicate, bony fingers crawling next to my cheeks as I could smell the mucky and stained clothes, flashing in the sizzling village. Dry skin that looked untouched was dotted around her body as if it were some disease growing rapidly on her but knowing she was the one who raised me and loved me with her soul, I stay motionless to the ground, letting her care for me. “Anil!” she mumbles while tears stream down her face “Look at you, my Anil! You've grown into a man.” And she kisses me on the centre of my forehead. “I’m so sorry for not saying goodbye, Ama. I should have told you in person and I should’ve – “ “No no, Anil. Don’t you be sorry because you made the right choice” and she pinches my chubby cheeks with a smile starting to form on her face. “Look how big you’ve grown, my Anil! A lot taller than me. The last time I saw you, you were beneath my hips!” “You haven’t changed, have you now?” I chuckle as my mother playfully slaps me across the face and grins at me annoyingly. “Where is Apa?” I ask. She ignores me and dashes towards the kitchen (which is something new) before I smell the scrumptious dishes alluring into my nostrils as I recognise them almost instantly; my favourite foods when I was a child. Filling the carpet up with food, she bellows from the kitchen, “I hope you enjoy my effort on this because I made this as a special feast for the two of us”. “What about – " But she stops me instantly, telling me to sit on the floor and eat. Time flying ever so fast with my mother persistently leaving a giant smile marked onto her face makes me forget about all the negative memories that I witnessed during my youth years. No other place would be as better as to be staying in right now and with the interminable conversations going on for hours, I imagine what it was like for my mother to suddenly leave me. And most definitely, I am wondering where the hell Apa is at.

Certainly could help me out ;D

Let's hope your points reach Tanki devs ? I'm Lovin' it X