Milla

The summer was grainy, taken on my dad’s Olympus, tarnished with rings of coffee.

Salt blew its path through the thin leaves, shells of my depth decay– I am met with a garden.

My knees veiled with green lace, soft brushes, I smell my dad’s cigar around a walls corner,

tall grasses wrap their tiny hands upon my legs – the breeze, a blurry thread.

Quiet hums from others play in the distance, the melody of a rumbling car.

The blessed nectar from an orchard peach does my hand sticky,

warmth, vibrant colours buzz in the p.m. glow, quiet vibrations,

its sweet, tender tang, I lick its remnants.

I graze my fingers along the verdant lawn – the stone fruit’s seed casting a little shadow,

sunlit eyes gaze at my creased manuscript, walkman veins gently entangle within its folds.

I rise to a nodding stance, I raise my hand, ferns shielding daylight from the undergrowth.

Bees soar over the leafy sea – each a little solider, wings of stained glass,

I pace slowly around the garden, soles of feet meeting with cool soil.

My eyes leisurely stroll, tracing the pearly fountain, hands walk,

the tweeting birds bathe themselves in the other, coryphées in white lace.

Rays embryoid the yard, fenced by thick trees, her leaves generous and giving,

closed off, the orchards hands stood giant – guarded by her nature.

Her bones strong, but never rough, delicately laced with auburn flecks.

Her beginnings meet with the sandstone wall – I swing open the dull gate,

the metals tinge and echo throughout the meditative yard.

Waves blow whistles – an angel strings a tune,

coos of rolling currents welcome me, flowers gossiping near my ears.

I gently lower down each step, the carpet of clovers whispering to themselves,

I make my way down the stairs; dustings of sand begin to show –

Coarse, once a mighty shell – served to fit a king.

Feet sinking into pebbly sand, the sand declaring my body,

I peer down the beach – walls of rocky cliffs, fairies shielding from watch.

Eyes meet with squinting beams of orangeness, the sun is bright –

as if the sun were a seed and grew a peach, soothing the land with its nectar.

I almost trace it, and feel its fuzz prickle my grasp.

Seas dappled with deserting sun – light waves their beams along the seaweed draped sand.

The same visual I yield to – will wonders ever cease?

Blessed it be – the orchards fingers outstretch, pressing her nails against my limbs

ears buzz – muffles of echoes from my father,

the hums of the garden pulled my soles backward – my dad’s Olympus sat upon its shelf.

Author Bio

Milla Fischer is a year 10 Oxley student and passionate learning writer attending the 2024 creative writing course. Personal goals include refining and growing as a writer and expressing themselves and their interests. Their passions include art of many forms (painting, drawing, sculpting, photography). They also are interested in film and expressive music. Milla chose the creative writing course because they believe writing is an essential and beautiful aspect of human culture and aims to further understand all the aspects of literature.

Book Review – “Call Me by Your Name” By Andre Aciman

Call Me by Your Name (2007), a novel by André Aciman, is a beautifully tender and vivid piece – one of my most cherished books. André Aciman (b. 1951) is an Italian American writer born and raised in Alexandria, Egypt. Aciman started writing the beginnings of Call Me by Your Name as a diversion until one April morning. “I was dreaming about being in an imaginary Italian villa overlooking the sea…a swimming pool, a tennis court, wonderful family and friends”. He then grew the summery and lush world we know today. Set in the upbeat summer of Northern Italy in 1983, the book follows a young but internally mature Jewish-American boy, Elio Pearlman. Elio’s world is abruptly changed upon meeting an American university student, Oliver – who stays at the Pearlman family manor for the summer while completing his manuscript. I came to read Call Me by Your Name years after I had initially seen the movie. The adaptation was released in 2018 and won 12 awards from distinguished organisations. I fell in love with the setting and cinematography of the Call Me by Your Name world – the intense summer of northern Italy occupied my mind. I completed the book for the first time this year after months of procrastinating. I enjoyed every page. I even used the novel as inspiration for my featured creative writing piece, Somewhere in Northern Italy. Elios’ story is deeply emotive as the summer continues – Elio begins to grow an obsession with the student Oliver, and he becomes fascinated with his unkept confidence and casualness – in turn, he begins to resent him for it. Eventually, Elio eventually understands that he is attracted to Oliver, but he cannot bring himself to act upon his feelings. Instead, he tries to hide his emotions while hoping Oliver will do something to acknowledge the energy flowing between them. After continuous overthinking from both parties, their relationship blossoms but only for a short while, destined to collapse purely because of their little time. The remainder of their weeks are filled with a deep, passionate love while also being painful, confusing and full of internal changes and feelings. Ultimately, it conveys an indispensable ending message. Our hearts and bodies are given to us only once, and we are born to feel, so we must embrace every single emotion, no matter what. Throughout this book, I admire the masterful writing style, as it reflects the realistic internal monologue of a teen. My favourite parts of the book are the many deep symbols, meaningful language, and interconnectedness – Is it better to speak or die? Being one of my most beloved quotes. As for the label of an LGTBQIA+ book, I find it to be the exact opposite. Yes, the book is a love story between two men, but such words and themes of being gay in the 1980s are left behind. Aciman silently acknowledges the indifference of Elio and Oliver from any other straight couple, which I interpret as deeply accepting and normalising. As for readers, the book is best understood with a knowledgeable and comprehensive mind as the novel requires constant effort to understand – regardless, it rewards those with its meaningful lessons and authenticity.