Young Writers Society

Uhm like... is that a distinguished bird... in chat?? Limited time only?!

mwah mwah mwah mwah MWAAAAHH

Missing you this NaPo <3

Pengu <3 hello

Whoa, WHAT??

What do you mean, "Penguin's back in chat"?? Is it... for a limited time only?!

> no returns, no refunds.

WHOA duuuudes, it's me! HErE again in the chatroom.

Limited time only!

It's moi! again! in chat - limited time only!

Aw yeah this ole penguin is in chat for the time being!

i LOVE u

On Tuesdays Louisa had ballet. She stared at her slippers, gripping the block toes hard until her knuckles paled. Then she began beating them against the hard concrete of the back steps where her parents wouldn't notice. Slammed and slammed, they were broken in. They were broken and busted. They were useless. Peeling the ripped silk from the edge she pushed and yanked against the strong glue.

On Tuesdays Louisa had ballet and she goddamned hated it.

Three weeks ago they passed the skate park on the way to George's footy practice becase the corner lights were down. The detour slid behind Louisa's eyes like a revelation, all those kids barreling down the dips like absolute maniacs - how come they got to fly? Her tights scratched together where she had been pulling the threads, for weeks she'd been ripping tiny little holes in every single pair of tights she owned. At some point mum would have to take her for more. At some point someone would have to notice that she lost the bun net and bobby pins they kept for recitals.

At some point someone would have to notice.

#writemoar

What??? I mean what??? Penguin is back in chat for the SECOND day in a Row!

come by, say hi!

Hey DOODS, Hey GUISE, HEY PEEPS

Come say hi in the YWS chat while I'm here!

Spending some time doing nothing while I read through my lists of books: https://www.thestorygraph.com/

Do you know me?

On waking the stars were black angry smears that shifted blearily every time you blinked. There by the bedside was a glass of water, sat long enough the ring of sweat suctioned it to the wood when you tried to lift it, and it slid half spilling. The glass clipped your teeth as you finally took it up, the minute crack surprising your gasp and then the water was the wrong way, wrong tube, down the lungs.

Somewhere a beeping continued like felt under your nails, a scraping texture at the point of your jaw, pressing. The glass is slippery in your hand and you let it back onto the table, counting the shapeless slices of black that still line your vision. Your palm presses down to your thigh, feeling the coarse links of the hospital blanket - you recognise this, knit squares that feel heavy and empty all at once. Are all hospital blankets like this? The threads feel endless, you could trace them until they turned in on themselves and maybe by then you'd be able to see properly.

Don't count on it.

(I don't know what this is, but take it as tribute to the YWS godzillas out there)

Hey hey ! It's #GiveAGif day so ~ here's some penguins for YOU!

Really enjoying all the #shareyourart work on the feed! Great stuff guise.