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Mini-sagas by 2014-15 C1 students - Your Writings - Your Stuff!
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Minisagas by C1 students (2014-15)

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She was scared. Strange lights sparkled above her. She was not able to identify anything around her. Where was she? She felt uncomfortable although it was warm. All was strange. Unexpectedly, she was held, she cried. But then, she heard a familiar melody: "Mum is here". She felt at one.

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The rose arose and begged the clouds for rain. Faded, weak, it needed to be watered. It refused to give up. Its purpose was to blossom. No matter how long it took. It was determined to flourish. After the first drops of Fall arrived,
the rose proudly showed its thorns.

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Another dull lonely day. He woke up, had breakfast ,got dressed, and headed for the office. As he was turning the computer on he realized there was a yellow note stuck on the screen. There it was, her answer: "Yes, I will". His brand new life had just started.

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Embarrassing

The've got three. I saw them for the first time one year ago. They caught my attention especially because the father was really ugly. Over time, I asked her why their children don't resemble their father. She answered, "They look like their father but not like my husband".

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Dreaming of a new apartment, Olga is prepared to find herself in a new big city. She didn't like to be considered a shallow girl so you could see books and letters sticking out of her suitcase while she closed the door of her parents' house, according to her, forever.

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The nasty sound of the alarm clock woke her up to reality. She loathed getting up early in such freezing mornings. That's the way the cookie crumbles! That dream about her warm mother's arms made her smile. She missed her mum's light-hearted mood. "I'll call her!", she thought.

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My beloved Jane,

from somewhere in Afghanistan, your brave and courageous Theodore introduces a loving kiss and this letter full of passion in a sharpened arrow, takes a wooden bow and aims at your sweet heart. I am always missing you. My heart bleeds because of you.

I love you so.

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Red, orange, yellow, white, her bad temper was fading away. She deeply regretted her hurtful comments, she felt guilty for betraying his dreams, she knew he didn't deserve it, she knew it was her fault, she realized she had to come over with an apology. White, yellow, orange, red. Sorry.

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Stuck in the hustle and bustle of modern life, she felt she was going nowhere. that was not how she had imagined her life when she was a child and used to daydream about her adulthood. She had become a workaholic forgetting about the most precious - time to achieve your dreams.

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Listen to me Nightingale! I want you to sing my sorrow form the rooftops. I was the bravest greyhound in England, no rabbit nor hare escaped from my claws. My lord took pride on me. I grew old, the compliments became punches. And now I wander retelling my misfortune everywhere.

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My sweet blonde little girl, avoid ordinary organized stressful life, let happiness and love be your living partners and do not be afraid of where they take you. Keep on trying, there is always a new day to enjoy. Laugh, Dance, Sing, Paint, Cry, Fall in love, Let yourself shine.