I'm Issy.
I'm 14 and an aspiring artist and author.
Black Lives matter.
Bi puns
Murder mystery TV shows
Shakespeare poetry
I can't even be bothered writing them all down
Have a nice day

Message from Writer

Remember to write even if you think you are bad at it, you're not

They Bay

December 25, 2020

PROMPT: “All Alive”

I feel the heat pounding on my back, as we traipse our way across the mountain, in search of a cooling bay. The day is not so hot, really, but the hike is like fire and brimstone. Our legs and feet are sweaty and aching, the brief coolness of Wineglass Bay fading off our backs like footprints made of water. 
    A bay comes into sight; cobalt and aquamarine water spilling onto pale sand. You can hear a sense the water, it's presence could make the deepest fire-pit feel just a bit of peace. It's waves, washing rhythmically in and out from the shore, are small, calm and peaceful. 
    In the moment, I know how Tantalus felt. To be down there; to feel the cold water mold to the shape of our bodies and then flow on as if we were never there; we want that. But the rocks are jagged, the climb to steeply downhill and the fall to far. So we don't. 
    Instead, we continue, looking on at the water from afar. The trees rustle around us, our steady footsteps providing a metronome for the sounds around. The heat is getting to us now, the father we trek from Wineglass Bay, and from the cool, quite water of than unknown bay, like the pool of Tantalus. 
    And then we're there. Ciara and I give our shoes to Mum, so as to walk down the perfect, white beach barefoot. The sand ebbs and flows under us like a braded river. 
    We reach the water; the cool, precious water. It's cold -- there's not other way to describe it. The water feels blue, and thick. It's like some un-earthly substance, or another kind of air. 
     On the beach, the others laugh at Ciara and I. After dipping their toes in, they decided it was far too cold, even after this, hot, hot trek. So it's just the two of us, in the deep ocean. The water comes easily up to hour shoulders, only a few meters out. 
    It's cold, refreshing. It's like the feeling of lying down after too long on your feet. It's like a rich, gooey pudding, after a day of hard-work and only just having dinner, the fulfilling and plainly joyfulness of sleep. It's a dream, where movement and time are elements to be played with and changed. 
    The water is just it. 


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  • December 25, 2020 - 2:38am (Now Viewing)

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  • Stone of Jade

    The final chapter has been published for On the High Seas!

    4 months ago
  • The Inky Writer

    RE: You phrased it right, sorry I meant where in Ireland do your grandparents live, I live in Dublin. Circus sounds like such an awesome activity wow that's so cool you got to do it!
    Andrea :)

    5 months ago
  • The Inky Writer

    RE: Ah, I'm so glad you like Ireland! That's awesome you're part from here! What county do your grandparents live in? Those sound like such beautiful memories. May I ask, what is circus?
    Happy Christmas!
    Andrea :)

    5 months ago
  • The Inky Writer

    I adore this piece. The description is beautiful. I almost feel as though I am dipping into the sea alongside you and Ciara. Getting into refreshing water after a long hike is certainly one of the best feelings ever. I live in Ireland and the summers don't get too hot but just heating. After a longish hike with my scout group last summer we jumped into the sea fully dressed and it was one of the most amazing feelings. Thank you for returning me to that moment. Happy Christmas!! :)

    5 months ago