NOVEMBER 23rd…

This week we’re going to start studying George Orwell’s ANIMAL FARM. This novella was written just after the Second World War and is an political allegory…

We will study it in our English Literature lesson with our teacher Mr Savina. It is part of our curriculum to study one novel or play that marked American or English literature.

Ghida’s mini short story…

We all met one evening, in December, they were all here, all of them. The rain was pouring doing, the wind was howling… we had to stay in…

The party was cancelled because of the horrible weather. So me and my friends decided to stay home and cook Christmas dinner and celebrate it together. Everyone was working, the kitchen was really busy. I worked on the dessert while some of my friends made the turkey the others the stuffing… everyone was working. We were laughing and joking and playing around with the food. It was a good time. When we finished we went to the living room to wait for the food to get cooked and baked. We decided to play some cards and jam out to some music, but it ended up turning into a dance party. I went to the kitchen to check on the food when I smelled a funky odor. I rushed to the kitchen only to find the the oven was on fire. I screamed and everyone rushed to the kitchen. One of my friends called the firefighters and told them to come quickly. We tried to stop the fire but it was getting bigger. Suddenly the door bell rang and the firefighters ran to the kitchen and turned off the fire. It was a relieve. The food was burnt but at least no one got hurt. Everything was fine. At the end, after we cleaned the kitchen we decided to order food because it’s safer. So we ordered burger king and pizza hut and sat down to watch some movies and chill out.

 

Noura’s mini short story…

Every single night. The moon hiding behind the soft figure of the floating clouds, creating a beautiful portrait, the sky dark and the atmosphere; pretty haunting. Laying in bed, the mattress slowly dipping under my weight, abducting all the pain of the day, I’d stare out of the window, to watch the sky, floating lights here and there, called stars. The sheer material laying above my body providing me the warmth I need during the coldest nights. The portrait I had drawn during the day would become lively at night, maybe only in my head, and the mind and heart would glow with new colours daily, helping with the artpiece of the next day. And when I’d drift off to sleep, it would be a new beginning in another dimension, and I’d become a pondering soul.