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Creative Writing Showcase | Lottie Scroggie | Welfare Fortnight

A collection of pieces from BA [Hons] Creative Writing.

Slow Burn

Lottie Scroggie

The small, skinny trail of smoke rose above the heads of the

congregation in the church. For such a small being, it was

able to spread a little bit of sweetness all across the stone,

cold building, which was in turn, spreading miserableness to

the congregation. The crowd struggled to worship, as they

rubbed their numb, blue hands, looking forward to a warm

drink. The children were bored and freezing. The monotone

waffle coming from the priest didn’t interest them. They

wanted to play. The light from the stained glass window

projected a broad spectrum of colours against the plain grey

walls and cracked floor, attracting the attention of some of

the congregation’s eye, devilishly tempting them to lose their

focus on the priest who was not even halfway through his

sermon; if they had kept staring at the dull grey walls

surrounding them, they would’ve probably gone insane. The

priest who was still droning on, had lost the attention of the

congregation, with the exception of the most devout catholics

sat eagerly at the front, taking in the man’s words as if their

life depended on it; and the incense kept slowly burning, as

the mass slowly progressed and it overran, for a good twenty

minutes, for the fifth week running.


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