by samuel siow
I open my eyes again. I am lying down, it is dark and confined in here, I could hear sounds of sadness and the pitter-patter of raindrops.
write something worth reading.
by samuel siow
I open my eyes again. I am lying down, it is dark and confined in here, I could hear sounds of sadness and the pitter-patter of raindrops.
by mavis teo
Their newest, fanciest project (the one I’m trying to push my species into) was recruiting volunteer species to be placed into an artificial environment.
by zack soh
If you’ve ever wanted to write a poem, or even just read and comment on one, then this guide is for you.
by david cheng
There she was standing,
Off in the distance.
by dee pei hui
The Grandor was working on a disc, something like a CD. He left the room for a while to retrieve something from his office.
by tyrina toh
Written from the perspective of an awkward individual, should be taken with a pinch of salt (because if used unsparingly, the other party might feel assalted.)
by luther loh
The wind surely
Taught that head, fiery hair To burn
by ephraem tan
MORAL: Don’t look a gif’d horse in the mouth
by kim hajeong
Tennessee Williams once said about his Pulitzer Prize winning play, A Streetcar Named Desire, that “Streetcar is an extremely and peculiarly moral play, in the deepest and truest sense of the term. […]
by hannah ang
My parents wanted two children.
Sometimes my mother looks at me and sighs.