{"id":8633,"date":"2025-12-19T03:55:24","date_gmt":"2025-12-19T03:55:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/?post_type=article&p=8633"},"modified":"2025-12-19T03:55:24","modified_gmt":"2025-12-19T03:55:24","slug":"english-enrichment-creative-pieces","status":"publish","type":"article","link":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/article\/english-enrichment-creative-pieces\/","title":{"rendered":"English Enrichment Creative Pieces"},"content":{"rendered":"

Throughout the year, students from Year 9 and 10 participated in the English Enrichment course, producing a range of works\u2014from lyrical poetry to short stories and even film scripts\u2014to submit to various writing competitions. Through the support of not only teachers, but also their peers, they strung magic together with dedication and the desire to create, discovering new realms of literature to explore.<\/span><\/p>\n

The enrichment course ultimately became more than a space for writing. Students not only honed their craft but also learned to listen deeply, to critique with care, and to celebrate the diverse voices within their cohort. In doing so, they built a community of young writers who approached challenges with creativity and courage, leaving behind works that reflect both their individuality and their shared journey.<\/span><\/p>\n

Oliver Townsend and Steph Ha<\/em> (Year 9)<\/span><\/p>\n

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Below are extracts from each piece. If you would like to read them in full, please click here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

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Extract from <\/b>Faraway Lands<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

By Mischka Allen (Year 9)<\/b><\/p>\n

The ocean is dark ahead of him, velvet-soft ripples spanning either side of the small, fragile steam boat that he had, despite reason, boarded willingly. <\/span>Euroka<\/span><\/i> did not seem very able on land, and now that she had left it behind, Robert could not help but acknowledge the unease that rose like sickness in his stomach.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He was still not sure how he had been so thoroughly misled. The mate had laughed at him when he had justified the company of Rose and their children, and that had been where his confidence had first wavered – it had taken many blows since. They were to be Northward-bound; to leave Sydney. Dreams of watermelon crops and a cottage hewn from strange Australian trees seemed suddenly so distant; but work was necessary and work was what had to be first established.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from Travelling<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

By Jason Chen (Year 10)<\/b><\/p>\n

That morning I discovered a problem with my printer before I had even put my shirt on. This particular machine was a half functioning greyish block I had found on sale two years ago and it was sitting on the floor half disassembled and covered in stickers I had <\/span>not<\/span><\/i> put on it. Someone had come in during the dead of night and decided this was a good idea. They\u2019d even left the window open for God\u2019s sake, so that a faint hum of traffic filtered through the room. My clock was broken\u2014someone had taken the time to wind it back 15 minutes from what my phone insisted was 6:30 in the morning. I noticed because today, time mattered. The manuscript had to be submitted before midnight. Miss that, and the sabbatical would be formally logged as unproductive. My father had been very clear about what happened after that.<\/span><\/p>\n

Each sticker bore the red logo of the shop that had sold me the printer, followed by a block of text:<\/span><\/p>\n

Notice: This item and its immediate surroundings may contain regulated or hazardous materials. Do not operate. Await further instructions.<\/b>
\n<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from <\/b>Delayed Train<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

By Jed Dou (Year 10)<\/b><\/p>\n

The platform of a small train station in an unknown city. CENTRE STAGE, a bench with paint peeling off it.\u00a0 HANS and PAUL are sitting placidly on the bench. They appear to both be passing time, reading the newspaper. Occasionally, in unison, the two check their watches. STAGE RIGHT, next to HANS and PAUL is a dead pot plant. UPSTAGE, behind the bench, HANS, PAUL and the dead pot plant is a vending machine, its lights fill the stage with an inviting neon glow.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

TRAIN INTERCOM<\/b><\/p>\n

The 8:12 train to Central on platform 2 is delayed by approximately 157 minutes.<\/span><\/p>\n

PAUL<\/b><\/p>\n

(<\/span>checking his watch lazily<\/span><\/i>) We might be a little late for work this morning.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from Methodical\u00a0<\/em><\/b><\/p>\n

By Jennifer Duong<\/b><\/p>\n

A careful eye glances at the shiny new mechanical pencils, analysing faults. That one over there looks more like a tester than a selling product, and the fourth one to the right is cracked. The pencils are the first thing most see when entering the shop, so it should not surprise her. She selects a decent looking one-certainly the best in the bunch-doodling briefly on the testing paper before placing it into her basket. The pencil rolls, then settles: proud in its loneliness.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Her reasoning for skipping past the thick fluorescent highlighters lies with the far prettier ones arranged on the side, their aesthetically soothing pastels a direct contrast to their lively neighbours, and their slim figures far more pleasing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She finds herself at the other end of the store with fingers on a small black rubber. She has always preferred them to their brighter counterparts, rationalising it as dirt-free and cleaner. She will say nothing of red rubbers. But her experience with black ones has been quite good so far, with the exception of last Saturday\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from artefacts as adhesive<\/em><\/b><\/p>\n

By Steph Ha (Year 9)<\/b><\/p>\n


\n<\/b>v. metal, silver (age 34)<\/b><\/p>\n

a watch, unclasped. its face a shard of broken dawn.<\/span><\/p>\n

gleaming cold, inside gears grind\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

like teeth locked in a sleepless jaw, gnawing<\/span><\/p>\n

minutes to dust. you say that <\/span>time is a river,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

but this is no water\u2014 only hinges, only rust.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from Stories of Escape<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

By Lucinda MAN (Year 10)<\/strong><\/p>\n

A phone rings. You pick it up. You say:<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Emergency. Police, Fire, or Ambulance?<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019d like to order pizza delivery.<\/b><\/p>\n

The voice is a child\u2019s, muffled but not shaking.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

You called police to order pizza?<\/span><\/p>\n

Uh, yeah. \u2026 To 9 Henson Road, in Flemworth.\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

You are bemused.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

This is the wrong number to order pizza.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

No, no, no, no, you\u2019re not understanding. 9 Henson Road, in Flemworth.\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

A note of urgency. You scribble the address down and start searching.<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from (Lie)utenant<\/em><\/b><\/p>\n

By Rita Karina Munoz (Year 9)<\/b><\/p>\n

He\u2019d always wanted to get into this military academy, the big one, in Moscow. He even kept one of those small plastic toy soldiers on his desk, like a little cheerleader. I always wished for an aspiration like his–it would make all the late night studying significantly easier, if I had a cheerleader of my own, even if it was only in the form of a dream, but one never came to me. I hadn\u2019t yet known what I wanted to do with my own life, only that I wanted to get one.\u00a0<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from Breaking the vase and keeping it in the hope that one day it will magically fix itself<\/em><\/b><\/p>\n

By Genevieve Meunier (Year 10)<\/b><\/p>\n

It was a few days later when they finally bumped into each other. There\u2019s a spark of something hateful in the air that the rain hasn\u2019t extinguished, and it ignites, and it burns blindingly bright and spills out of Reggie\u2019s mouth and into the air.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from Earth<\/em>\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

By Ty Nguyen<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Earth, I hope I can visit one day.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I hate being in this ever-nocturnal life.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I just love the presents given by dad<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The books contain information on: Gazelles, platypuses, even cassowaries.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s like a mossball, floating in a sea of dreams.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u201c<\/span>What does it sound like when all the dreams \u2026 are crushed<\/span><\/i>?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

** -DESCENT – COMPLETED- **<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Extract from <\/i>\u201cWhat made you come to love this place again?\u201d<\/em><\/b><\/p>\n

By Oliver Townsend (Year 9)<\/b><\/p>\n

She<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n

It\u2019s strange. Just down from the town centre and the grand Victorian mansions, the mill used to tower over us. Those silos were titans when I was a girl – hulking skyscrapers, watching over all below. My dad worked here. He\u2019d come home covered in flour, hands splintered from crates and timber, which my mother would gently tweeze out each night. Back in the 70s, Summer Hill didn\u2019t revolve around caf\u00e9s and light rails, it pulsed to the scent of grain and the hum of freight trains.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Throughout the year, students from Year 9 and 10 participated in the English Enrichment course, producing a range of works\u2014from lyrical poetry to short stories and even film scripts\u2014to submit to various writing competitions. Through the support of not only teachers, but also their peers, they strung magic together with dedication and the desire to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","class_list":["post-8633","article","type-article","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article\/8633","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/article"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8633"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/fortstreet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8633"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}