Week 2 Writing Homework

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  • Due Date : October 28, 2025
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33 thoughts on “Week 2 Writing Homework”

  2. Ethan

    The hinge on the old chest groaned in protest as Elias forced it open. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light filtering through the attic’s grimy window. He sneezed, waving a hand in front of his face.

    “Well?”

    Mark stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the light from the hall. He didn’t step inside. His leather-soled shoes were silent on the wooden floorboards, but his impatience was loud. He checked his watch.

    “I’m looking,” Elias said. He pulled out a stack of vinyl records, blew dust off the top one, and set it aside.

    “Elias, the movers are charging by the hour. My flight is at five. If you wanted it, you should have taken it when Mom first asked.”

    “She didn’t ask. She said ‘clear your junk’.” Elias grunted, leaning deeper into the chest. His fingers brushed against something small and hard. He pulled it out.

    It was a compass, brass, and heavy in his palm. The glass was cracked, and the needle spun uselessly, untethered from magnetic north.

    Mark, still in the doorway, sighed. “Seriously? That old thing? We fished that out of the creek.”

    “You dared me,” Elias said, his thumb tracing the crack in the glass. “Said you’d give me your entire comic collection if I got it.”

    “I was ten. And you never let me forget it.” Mark took a step into the room, but stopped short of the dusty circle surrounding the chest. He adjusted the cuff of his blazer. “Does it even work?”

    “The needle’s loose.” Elias gave it a shake. A faint rattle. “But the hinge is still good.” He opened the lid.

    Mark glanced at it, a brief, tight smile. “The ‘North Star.’ Right. Figured we’d never get lost.”

    “We didn’t.” Elias said, quiet.

    Mark’s gaze lingered on the compass. His tight smile faltered, becoming something softer, almost genuine. “Yeah,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “We didn’t.”

    His phone buzzed, vibrating sharply in his pocket. The sound was abrasive in the quiet attic. Mark flinched, and the brief connection vanished. He pulled the phone out, his face resetting into a familiar frown as he glanced at the screen.

    “Look,” he said, his tone already clipped. “I’ve got to take this. Are you done? Just… put it in one of the boxes. Or don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

    Elias watched him turn and walk down the hall. He stopped for a beat at the doorway, his back to the room, before raising the phone. His voice, when it came, was brighter, smoother. “Jenna, hi. Yes, the projections for Q4 are solid. Tell legal to proceed…”

    Elias stood alone in the attic. He closed the compass. The brass was cold. He weighed it in his hand for a moment before slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. He looked at the half-empty chest, then back at the empty doorway.

    Slowly, he reached up and pulled the string for the single lightbulb, plunging the room into shadow. He closed the chest, the final thud echoing in the small space, and walked out, leaving the dust to settle.

    Reply
  3. Summer

    The Paper Swan
    The park was nearly empty. A boy sat on the bench, folding paper with slow, deliberate hands. His pile of swans was smaller than usual—just three, each creased with care.
    A girl approached, her steps hesitant. She stopped beside the bench but didn’t sit.
    “You still make those?” she asked.
    He didn’t look up. “You still come here?”
    She sat, leaving space between them. “Not often.”
    He handed her a swan. She turned it over. “You used to give these out like candy.”
    “I used to think they meant something.”
    She placed it on the bench between them. “They did.”
    He folded another. “You stopped replying.”
    “You stopped asking.”
    He paused. “You stopped showing up.”
    She didn’t answer.
    A breeze lifted the edge of the swan’s wing. She caught it before it blew away.
    “You always hated when they got dirty,” she said.
    He shrugged. “They’re just paper.”
    She held it to her chest. “You said they were promises.”
    He didn’t respond.
    A child ran past, laughing. The boy watched him disappear down the path.
    “You still fold them the same way,” she said.
    He nodded. “Muscle memory.”
    She reached into her bag and pulled out a faded swan—creased, yellowed, edges soft. She placed it beside the others.
    He stared at it. “That one was yours.”
    “I know.”
    He reached for it, then stopped. “You kept it?”
    “I didn’t know what else to do with it.”
    They sat in silence. The wind rustled the trees. A dog barked in the distance.
    She stood. “I should go.”
    He didn’t look up. “You always leave before the sun sets.”
    She hesitated. “You always stay.”
    She walked away, her footsteps soft on the gravel.
    He picked up the old swan, unfolded it slowly. Inside, faint pencil lines: a date, a name, a tiny heart—and a second name, crossed out.
    He refolded it, placed it gently on top of the pile.
    Then he folded another.

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  5. Kingsley

    The Broken Compass

    Mark stood silently on the bottom of the hiking trail, his finger tapping relentlessly as he waited for his best friend, Jack to arrive. Mark clutched an ancient compass as his body quivered uncontrollably in the cold. The exquisite artefact, a special gift from Jack, felt like a heat pack in his shivering hands, bringing back pleasant memories of their first hike together. As Mark desperately scanned his crumbled map, double-checking the route he was going to take, a shadowy figure shrouded in cold mist approached him, waving his hand energetically. A smile beamed on the person’s face as he sprinted towards Mark, wrapping his arms as he gave him a warm embrace. Mark recognised him spontaneously. It was Jack.

    Jack skipped onto the trail cheerfully as Mark sat on a frozen rock, his eyes still fixated on the map.

    Jack impatiently exclaimed, “C’mon Mark! We don’t have a lot of time. Don’t waste our time looking at maps.”

    Mark muffled, “We must remain safe.” He curled into a tight ball as his body quivered under layers of thick clothing. “I don’t want to get lost, so that’s why I’m prioritising safety first.”

    Jack groaned, as if he lost all his energy. He questioned, “What is the point of hiking if there is no fun? If we make sure we are all safe, then there wouldn’t even be any adventure!”

    Mark stood up, stretching as he yawned tiredly, clearly fatigued. He searched for Jack, his eyes scanning the frozen land until a voice reverberated across the forest, saying “First to reach the peak wins!”

    Worries of dread overwhelmed Mark as he thought about the insecurities of hiking alone. Throughout his entire life hiking, he has always been with Jack, relying on his energy and support. Mark sighed deeply as his puffy boots touched the beginning of the endless hike, spanning farther than the eye could see. He wished Jack would understand him – his feelings, his fears, everything.

    Halfway throughout the treacherous hike, Mark felt a sense of agony engulf him. He felt tired without his partner’s enthusiasm and could not advance further. He lay on the ground, his face filled with fright and despair. Melancholy surrounded as he remembered the awlful sight of Jack betraying him, abandoning him in this desolate wasteland. He reached for his emergency rescue phone but his hope was shattered as he spotted the system setup stuck at 50%. Back, before he started the hike, the signal was stable, but now? The signal was lost. He was hopeless, abandoned and utterly lost.

    He stared at his bronze compass, the gift from Jack. Its glass face was cracked and its needle froze and twitched randomly between north and west. Mark’s mind spun around, still surprised by his friend’s choice. He asked himself, ‘Was Jack a true friend? Was he loyal for leaving him isolated? Is this what friends do?’

    His only option now, was to head back and go home. If he could make it.

    One week later, Mark’s knuckles knocked on Jack’s door, praying for a response. He was greeted with a familiar person, but a different face – one with a sorry look. Mark settled down onto a wooden chair, a scowl plastered onto his infuriated face. His mouth threw offenses and accusations at Jack, who replied equally as hard. Jack yelled at him to go away, and Mark headed towards the door, stomping furiously. He gave Jack one final nasty glare and slammed it shut, huffing and puffing. Ever since that, they have avoided each other.

    Reply
  8. rockyli

    The Cottage
    An old man sat in his veranda gazing at the falling sunset. He lived in a remote village in the middle of Australia where people never go. In fact it was probably faster to travel to America by boat then to drive there.
    Then a young male pedestrian stopped in front of the old man’s cottage.
    “Excuse me is your name Chris Prosy”
    I examined him before answering. “And is your name Steven Prosy”
    He hesitated and approached me carefully then asked. “You live here still?”
    “Why not.”
    “You promised that you would find yourself a home in the city.”
    “I said I will if it doesn’t exceed my budget.”
    “And your budget was 100,000.”
    “That is correct.”
    He sat down on the chair opposite me. “You expected to buy a house using that budget.” He gave the old man a stone hard stare.
    “That is how much this house costed.”
    The young man tried to relax his anger before answering.
    “You promised to give me a home to live in after I come back from work experience and I explicitly mentioned that to buy me a house.”
    “What’s the difference.”
    “A house has running water and fixed electricity, this is a disgrace to live in.” He spat the last words out with hate and disbelief.
    They watched the last rays of sunlight die out and the young man stood up and walked off leaving the old man alone again.

    Reply
  9. Emma

    The bell over the café door chimed softly as Nora stepped inside. She hesitated, eyes scanning the room until they landed on a familiar back hunched over a mug.

    “Eli,” she said.

    He looked up, offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re early.”

    “I forgot you like to be late,” she said, pulling out the chair across from him. The scrape of wood against tile sounded louder than it should have.

    For a while, they spoke of small things. The weather. The new bakery across the street. The way the city always smelled like rain even when it was dry.

    Nora stirred her coffee, the tiny silver spoon clinking against the cup. It was the same spoon she had given him years ago, back when they had spent every afternoon sketching plans and laughing over too-strong espresso. She had found it today in the bottom of her drawer, still faintly scratched with his initials.

    “You kept it,” she said quietly.

    Eli glanced down. “Couldn’t throw it away.”

    “Funny. You threw away everything else.”

    He didn’t answer. Instead, he adjusted the napkin beside his cup with the careful precision she remembered so well, folding the corner into a perfect triangle.

    Outside, rain began to fall. Drops streaked down the window between them, blurring the reflections of their faces until neither could tell who was looking at whom.

    “I saw your design in the paper,” he said finally. “It looked good.”

    “Yours too.”

    Silence settled again, heavy but not cruel. Nora reached for her spoon, then stopped. She left it beside his cup.

    As she stood to leave, he didn’t try to stop her. He only watched, fingers tracing the curve of the small, tarnished handle as though it might tell him what to say.

    The bell chimed again when she was gone.

    Reply
  10. Kyle Hui

    Leaves rustle as I entered the park. I saw a shadow in the distance. That was my friend. We took sperate paths because I studied and he just played sports. This was where I always studied but why was he here?

    He sat under a jacaranda tree the one where we used to laugh and play. Memories flashed back but I snapped my snapped myself out of it knew we’ve separated.

    ‘What are you doing here, you never came back here’ I whispered with a hint of sadness.

    Studying, figured I’d never live a good life out of it.

    ‘Well at least you finally came to your senses’ I said, this is what I told you before.

    ‘What made you stop’ I asked curiously.

    Well… I started training more and less academic practice which led to my scores being falling like flying colours. After I failed my rep team trial horribly for the 3rd year in a row figured that I wasn’t good enough, so I started studying. My grades weren’t shooting up but they were going up steadily.

    ‘Wow, I never thought you’d give up it was something you chased ever since I knew you’ I told him with no emotion.

    Silence blew over the morning air, chill came over us.

    At least I got into a decent university good enough for me to get a good job

    My life was in ruins until I remembered what you told me in high school “Your academic always comes first no matter what”

    ‘Glad you remembered’ I said coldly.

    I got to go my university lesson starts in 1 hr.

    But it’s only 5:30!

    ‘I know, I have big dreams’ I said turning around got to go.

    I left wondering why he has done so he never would’ve done this. All he does was party and play sports nothing else.

    I left the path and the leaves flying up then falling back down slowly, floating. Soon his figure was fading the mist slowly engulfed him.

    Reply
  11. JASH

    The lantern

    They met by the creek just before dark. The brass lantern between them threw a weak circle of light, shivering whenever the wind passed through the trees.

    Eli kicked at a stone. “Didn’t think you’d still have it.”

    Claire turned the lantern’s knob, the flame flaring for a moment. “It still works.”

    He gave a quiet laugh. “You said that last time.”

    “And it was true then, too.”

    They stood watching the water move past, slow and brown. The flame flickered against their faces, then steadied.

    “You could’ve brought a new one,” Eli said.

    Claire brushed a moth from the glass. “This one knows the way.”

    He nodded, eyes on the light. “We used to follow it everywhere.”

    She didn’t answer. Only lifted the lantern and set it down on the wooden rail, the metal clinking softly.

    After a long moment, Eli leaned forward and blew gently. The flame wavered, then died. Smoke curled upward, pale in the dusk.

    Claire waited, then picked it up again. “You never did like when it burned too long.”

    He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You never let it go out.”

    They held each other’s gaze across the dark glass—its reflection catching both their faces, then neither.

    Finally, Claire turned toward the trail. “Goodnight, Eli.”

    He didn’t answer until she was almost gone. “Take care of it.”

    The lantern swung in her hand as she walked away, unlit but still warm.

    Reply
  12. Ariana Huang

    Week 2 writing

    The door creaked as Julia slowly stepped in the cafe door. Inside Lilly was carefully placing the menu and making the shiny cutlery cautiously down trying not to make a dent. Lilly didn’t notice until Julia made a sound.
    She looked closely and carefully at Lilly looking to see if see would move. “Hello Lilly” Julia said quietly
    “You are here 20 min early!” se replied with a bit of excitement while inspecting the glass cups.
    “Have a seat!”
    While Lilly said that it sounded a bit awkward because the last time they talked was in Primary School, which was 5 years ago. They used to be best friends but since they went to different high school they never chatted again. Julia stared at the menu like it was a book and didn’t talk, Lilly just inspected every single ingredients on each recipe and decided curiously what to order.
    “What are you going to order?” Julia whispered.
    “Maybe Pasta Bolognese.”
    “Same, i love Pasta Bolognese!”
    Soon Lilly realised that they might have a lot in common so they started a giant chat. Lilly just had to be very organised so she made sure that her pasta was carefully mixed. While she was mixing her pasta and listening to the sharp consistent drops of rain they found out they work in the same office.
    “How did we never notice each other?” Lilly questioned
    “I don’t know.
    “Did you submit the group art contest?”
    “Yes”
    “which one is yours?”
    “The one with flowers and animals.”
    “I loved that one!”
    After they had lunch at the Cafe they walked out and wanted to communicate more they got each others phone number. The rain had now stopped they heard the door creak again and the Galahs and Kookaburras singing to the beautiful spring weather now that the sun came out and said bye to each other.
    “Bye” Lilly yelled
    “See you soon!”
    “Hopefully in the office next time!”
    “Bye”
    They went back home and was astonished how that was the best lunch together.

    Reply
  15. Zac Cui

    Reunion

    I pushed my way through the cluster of unfamiliar students, when suddenly, a familiar face. Very familiar. We pushed through the crowd and sat down, a silent agreement hanging between us.

    “It’s been a long time,” he said, breaking the silence.
    “I know”
    “You still have it?”
    “Have what?”
    “The locket”
    “What locket”
    “The one on your neck”
    He gestured to my hand, clamped around the locket
    I paused, then stuttered
    “Oh… yeah”
    “Remember it now?”
    “Remember what?”
    “Your promise”
    I sighed and shook my head.
    “I’ve never promised anything”
    “Yes you have”
    “It’s been five years, even if I did”
    “No, six”
    “It doesn’t matter”
    He paused, then replying
    “It matters that you promised me”
    “No, I didn’t”
    My eyebrow twitched, the creased.
    We hung in silence, a delicate thread, able to be broken by the lightest touch.
    “Fine” I grunted,hands brushing the edge of my shirt.

    I opened the locket, taking out the small photo. I quickly glanced over it, a photo of his twelfth birthday.
    “Now do you remember?”
    I paused, before replying
    “Remember what?”
    “The party, silly”

    A bead of sweat cascaded down my cheek and I shifted on the hard metal bench.
    “You invited me to your tenth birthday?” I questioned.
    “Yes, you gave me a matching locket that matched yours!”
    I subtly smiled, but without the eye crinkle.
    His face was suddenly dominated by his massive smile post to post.
    “You loved to draw” he said
    “And?”
    “I remember the drawing you enclosed in here”
    He gestured towards his locket, identical to mine
    He opened it, the click flashing memories in my mind.
    ‘Here:”
    He showed me my intimidation of The Starry Night, with imperfect edges and wrong texture.
    “We stopped a long time ago” I insisted
    He paused before saying
    “We can continue”
    “We’ve grown apart”
    “We can restart: we’re both new,”
    “Ok”

    A small grin tugged at my lips as he stood up and walked away, memories flooding my mind. Maybe we could.

    Reply

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