Book Review: The Tale of Two Cities

The way Dickens portrays his characters and the shift from peaceful London to the terrified city of Paris is so flawless that it'll make you cry. It is, without a doubt, one of the best classics ever written. If you’re in the mood for a history lesson filled with a swashbuckling doctor, a pathetic impostor nobleman, a perfect maiden, and a knight shining in breeches, then this is your go-to book.

Uzma Fatima

I'm Uzma, an eighteen year old living in the land of Oompa Loompas. I have been writing for quite a while to bring my emotions out. I kill my time reading or cooking up weird scenarios, and attempting to write a book.

Weekly Winners: I Sit Under the Greenwood Tree

"I sit under the greenwood" was initially inspired by the book of the same title, "Under the Greenwood Tree" by Thomas Hardy. There is also a poem by Shakespeare of a similar title. This is a reflective prompt and the submissions we got showed this character in almost every other piece.

Streetwriters

A community of artists working together to grow, nurture and help build a better and artistic world where greatness is a measure independent of one's race, status, ethnicity, color or creed.

I Sit Under the Greenwood Tree

An Endeavor Towards Self Love

I write this while embarking on a journey of self-appreciation and love, where I can pause, savor, cherish and remember the things that I passionately care about; a journey where I live for myself. I write this while training myself to praise what I see in the mirror instead of my surreal imagination while taking my baby steps to create a life that veritably screams, "Me."

Harshitha Janakiraman

I'm Harshitha, a fluttery human who enthusiastically pens down her thoughts and finds solace in manifesting her personal experiences to let the world know they are not alone.

An Endeavor Towards Self Love | Streetwriters

Weekly Prompt

Submissions closed. Please wait for the next prompt.

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Palpable: An Excerpt from an Unpublished Novel

All my memories are the same. Various scenes pass, I am the victim in this nonsensical existence. I just let it play out, for I have no other option. Stuck in this horror that is my mind. To and from each day I go, ever exploring. Hoping beyond hope I can find some kind of solace, make some kind of rational out of all this.

Love Is All and Love Is Nothing

…a voice, a vibration, a lost soul, an unveiled destiny. Seen, unseen, known, unknown, stumbling through hazy visions of its unredeemed past, finding not what was but still is; a picture of Love. A stunning stroke on the black bare wall of its own prison and then void…Echoes making unbearable…