Coffee

Sasha K. Lotnikee

United States

Hello! I've moved to writetheworld.com/profiles/1668. Please check out and critique my writing there! :)

Published Work

Five Line Fiction

Sacrifice

Sounds of torture and moaning reverberated throughout the cells as I stared at the sharp needle with crazed madness.

One person, he had said.

One person, and the rest can go.

The borderline between life and my timely death was within my reach - would my loss bring hope to others?

I shakily grabbed the lethal injection and plunged it into my skin.

Word

Hidden Words

When recently rereading the fantastic, thrilling mystery, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I bumped into a word I had never seen before. In one of the beginning chapters, "Search for Mr. Hyde", the word "troglodytic" glowed on the page. And now, even as I'm writing this, a red squiggly line appears underneath it. I've read this book a myriad of times - why had I not noticed this before? And so I naturally became absolutely fascinated with this word, quickly rambling for the dictionary. Apparently, it meant "ape-like", and had something to do with cavemen. I finally understood. Mr. Hyde was a troglodytic, ape-like man. What a poetic word! I pronounced it several times, having the words roll of my tongue.

As with most intriguing vocabulary words, I try to incorporate it in everyday speech and see how people react. Even on the phone. Just a couple days ago, I was having a conversation with my...

Get to Know Your Characters: Inventory

In Her Backpack

Helen Angelakis Born: July 7th, 1984 Raised in Greece, resident of California.

1.) A laptop-controlled walkie-talkie 2.) A vial filled with liquid enabling telekinesis 3.) Six-pack energy drinks 4.) A folded-up recipe for chocolate cheesecake 5.) An orange engagement ring held in an orange case with orange padding 6.) A vial filled with liquid enabling teleportation 7.) An extra set of athletic hair accessories 8.) A leather jacket (depending on the weather)

Unrelated

The Color of Fear

Mommy says we have to go to the dentist. I don't remember going there before, but Caylee, my best friend, says that it's scary. Really scary. But Mommy says, "We have to go, Sarah," so I guess we have to go. So I grab my favorite stuffed animal, a koala named Roscoe, and walk out of the house. Mommy gave me Roscoe for my birthday when I was two. I think it's cute. I choose my favorite flip-flops, the ones with the glittery seashells, and we get into the car. "Mommy, I'm scared." I don't want to put Roscoe down. "Honey, it's just the dentist. All Dr. Brown is going to do is look at your teeth. No pain." I don't believe her, though Mommy is nearly always right. I hold Roscoe all the more tighter. In the car, I look up at the huge, gigantic skyscrapers. Daddy works in one, counting money. I think. Mommy calls him a banker....

Unrelated

The Color of Fear

Mommy says we have to go to the dentist. I don't remember going there before, but Caylee, my best friend, says that it's scary. Really scary. But Mommy says, "We have to go, Sarah," so I guess we have to go. So I grab my favorite stuffed animal, a koala named Roscoe, and walk out of the house. Mommy gave me Roscoe for my birthday when I was two. I think it's cute. I choose my favorite flip-flops, the ones with the glittery seashells, and we get into the car. "Mommy, I'm scared." I don't want to put Roscoe down. "Honey, it's just the dentist. All Dr. Brown is going to do is look at your teeth. No pain." I don't believe her, though Mommy is nearly always right. I hold Roscoe all the more tighter. In the car, I look up at the huge, gigantic skyscrapers. Daddy works in one, counting money. I think. Mommy calls him a banker....

Open Prompt

Welcome to my "Blog"*!

{Second Post}

Hello again!

In case you have no idea what you are currently reading, this is a little experiment of mine: a "blog", where I "post" informal writing that will suit whatever my interests.

So, who am I? Yes, my bio will tell you that I am a busy chocolate-obsessed human being, but really, have you ever wondered who I really am? That's the problem with social media these days. It's so easy to just adopt a certain "personality" and keep at it. The other person at the other end may never know you truly are. For example, what would it be like to be around one of my followers for a day? Would he/she be friendly or annoying? What does he/she normally do? Any habits? So let's get around this by zooming into my normal life. Abstract, but simple. Ask yourself this question: what would this "Sasha K. Lotnikee" be doing on a normal, leisurely, Saturday morning?

So,...

Open Prompt

Welcome to my "Blog"*!

Hello everyone!

Due to the fact that Write the World does not supply more than one free write or open prompt, I have decided to create my own "blog", where I will overwrite the past piece of writing I have written and start over with something new. It will look something like a blog with the other published versions before underneath the writing.

I've been on Write the World for nearly six months, and I think it is time to start anew, which means I will simply unfollow those who have not been active (I will refollow them as soon as they write something). I, however, will not unfollow anyone following me, since I feel guilty doing so :) Please do not be offended or insulted at all if I unfollow you. If you have written something, I will surely follow you again. I might unpublish some of my works, and as always, I will continue adding new ones.

I...

Wild Places

Home Sweet Home

I've only been there once so far in my life. But I consider it one of the most beautiful places on Earth, ever. It took a number of hours to drive up there. But it was worth it. I could already feel the freshness of the wild in Maine as my family drove around the winding paths at Acadia National Park. The lush, scenic forests graced the roads, casting willowy shadows around the patch of land. Even inside my car, I could smell the park-- wet moss, dry bark, pungent dirt, and the overall sense of beauty and wonder. I simply could not take my eyes off it. Throughout the week, I witnessed the beauty of nature, so awe-inspiring there aren't enough words to describe. But there were two places which nature had taken my heart away with. Our first stop was Sand Beach. It was absolutely breath-taking at first sight. It was early morning, so the brilliant scarlet rays...

Write an August Haiku

The Jewels of the Beach

Icy cool waters Mingling with the sunny sand Like sapphires and gold.

In the House

Where's the Other Pair?

You fling open your drawer, anticipating what's about to happen: a red sock, a pink sock, a navy blue knee high sock, a tiny Hello Kitty never-worn sock, a no-show liner, a black-and-white athletic sock, a orange polka-dotted sock, a regular boring white sock... And yet after thirteen minutes (there's a watch ticking ferociously on your wrist), you can't find a match to the comfy purple puppies-and-unicorn socks in your hand that you really wanted to wear to school today. Hastily, you jam a yellow sunshine colored knee-high sock on your feet and hope for the best. At school, you walk down the hallway late. All the other kids are already hurrying to their lockers to prepare for second period. As they walk by, they scrunch up their noses, roll their eyes, snicker, and stick their tongue out at your socks. They have the 'what's-wrong-with-that-person' face, the 'weirdo-girl' face, the 'was-she-born-in-the-dump' face, and for the half-way decent person, 'um-is-that-girl-OK?' look....

Seventh Sentence Story

Diary of a Bored Hunter's Son

"What did you say, Frances? "asked Father.*

Jan. 1st: Father went hunting today and caught a bear.

Jan 2nd: Father went hunting today and caught a fish.

Jan 3rd: Father went hunting today and caught a deer.

Jan 4th: Father went hunting today and caught a raccoon.

Jan 5th: Father went hunting today and caught a rabbit.

Jan 6th: Father went hunting today and caught...nothing?

Can the world get more exciting?

This I Believe

Summer Workout

"Summer is the time to exercise your brain even more, rather than stop using it." I've heard this phrase said over and over again in my household, many summers over. It's what my father said from the very beginning. And even though I wish it weren't true, I believe that if you live by this motto, the chances are larger that you'll succeed in life. I remember my summers clearly. All my classmates and friends would always be headed out to resorts, hotels, beaches, the Bahamas, exotic countries, or fancy cities for a whole month. Me? I would be holed up in my room, pouring over mathematical equations, researching the roots of English words, reading 1000 paged novels, and computer programming. And after everyone I knew came back from their fun, they would sleep-in, have a barbecue and pool party once a week, play with their video games, and simply do nothing. I attended juggling, chess, computer programming, baking, tennis,...

World Cup Fever

The World's Game Strikes Again: The Dark Side

"Soccer is a pleasure that hurts." quotes Eduardo Galeano*, a distinguished Latin America sports writer. What does this mean? Think about all the soccer superstars plastered with fame in history: Pele, Di Stefano, Cruyff, Eusebio, Puskas, Gullit, Baggio, Beckenbauer. These are the people who have achieved what humanity thought impossible in the past. These are the people who reached a milestone for mankind. These are the people who have changed the course of fate in the world. So, what do you imagine when you think about the World Cup? Probably cheering crowds, the breath-taking soccer stars, the whistle-blowing referees. Maybe even the camaraderie of the teams. But that's not the only part. Underneath all this fame, glory, and team-pride, lies something worse.

These may take form in heartbreak or madness, yet there is no one word to describe it. It's revenge, pride, depression, over-pressure...Who is to blame? Again, there is no one answer. As Galeano puts it, "There's soccer in...

One Sentence Story

Ode to the Lemon-Eater and Liar

The mind-bending question: How can something be tantalizingly tempting, yet be so sour at the same time?

Perfect Weekend

Dreaming...

I pull the covers over me, and welcome the hopes and dreams I embrace at night. I've pulled out my gigantic dusty canvas bag out from the crannies in my closet. In goes the comfy blue flip-flops, a striped yellow towel, sunscreen (the sort that smells pleasant), my iPod and my ear-buds. Bags of chocolate, grilled cheese sandwiches cut into triangles, chips, watermelon, and a couple cans of soda and water are jammed into the cooler waterproof part of the bag. I change into my t-shirt and shorts, and shove a pair of sunglasses to my head. Several outfits go into the main compartment of the canvas sack. I check my purse for my phone and wallet. As I grab the umbrella and beach chair, ready to walk out the door, I freeze. There's something I forgot. I tear back upstairs into my room, reach for my ballpoint pen, my crazy notebook, and my laptop, and race downstairs. I'm ready...

All in a Name

The Big Reveal

Alright, alright. Maybe you've guessed. Maybe you haven't. Well, I'll tell you anyway. Sasha K. Lotnikee isn't my real, true, birth name. Sasha K. Lotnikee doubles as my pen name AND my nickname. There, you have it. So you might of wondered what the "K." stood for. Good thing you asked. Promise you won't laugh? Promise? Alright, alright. It stands for Kreep. There. The reason why I didn't type my full name in.

So...you may ask: Why Sasha Kreep Lotnikee? It's not one of the random names that pop into my mind, is it? No; it's cleverly devised and derived from two words: Shakespeare Tolkien Can you see it? Takes a long time to figure out. (If you want to see how, read the footnote.) Sasha's isn't a bad name for a girl, and Lotnikee doesn't sound too ridiculous either for a last name. But the middle name...I just had to keep it to a "K". Why Shakespeare? Why Tolkien?...

Living in Music

On My Own

It's beautiful. It's eerie. It's sad. Eponine's voice pierces your soul with her mournful words and haunting melody.

And now I'm all alone again Nowhere to turn, no one to go to Without a home, without a friend Without a face to say hello to...

It all starts out with a tiny, pitiful voice. The words etch out a message: sometimes, you feel all alone. The world feels so big, and you feel shunned and ignored. "Without a home, without a friend". It's almost impossible to imagine no one in your life to talk or relate to.

And now the night is near, now I can make Believe he's here. Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping. I think of him and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping...

Dreams don't always come true. Everyone says "Reach for your dreams!". But the reality is, that dreams don't always become true. No superhero, no princess, no...

Homesick for a Place

The Realm of Music

CRASH! I knew I was in big trouble as soon the beautiful clarinet broke. Sobbing, I flung myself onto the couch and pounded my fists onto the padding of the furniture. The pretty piano playing stopped and I could hear footsteps. My heart thudded-- I couldn't hide; my parents would know where to find my anyway. "Gwen? Was that you?" My mother's sharp voice interrupted my thoughts. Then, I heard a shriek. She saw the shattered clarinet on the ground. "Miss Gwendolyn Leona Angelico, please explain why this priceless instrument is in pieces on the floor!" I heard my father's stern voice has he peered behind the couch. I wiped the teardrops away from my eyelashes, and tried to explain. "Well...I was trying to play the clarinet, and I couldn't make a decent tune...and so I...uh...it...fell on the floor." I quickly tried to scamper out of the room. "Hold it there, young lady! You're going to have to pay for...

Twenty-Six Sentences

Mind of the Blind

"Apples, peaches, pears, and grapes," I mutter under my breath. Bumpy little dots guide me everyday as I walk down the aisle. Closed eyes cover my unseeing eyes. Darkness overwhelms me everyday, everywhere. Everyone stares at me like I'm a monster. Fearing that I will bite or kill them, that I will hurt them. Grasping the fruit basket, I walk past the whispering crowd. Holding up my head, showing them I am proud. Inside, I am angry: I sacrificed myself to be like this. Jostled, teased at, bullied, shunned from society, all because I defended my friend. Kicked in the back, jabbed at both eyes, I had foolishly stood in front of her. "Let me at him," I thought. My act of love and defense lost me my eyes. Now I can't see what food I'm buying. Ocular surgery won't save me-I am doomed to stay like this all my life. Proudly, I walk to the frozen section without pausing....

Twenty-Six Sentences

Mind of the Blind

"Apples, peaches, pears, and grapes," I mutter under my breath. Bumpy little dots guide me everyday as I walk down the aisle. Closed eyes and stretched eyelids cover my unseeing eyes. Darkness and loneliness overwhelms me everyday, everywhere. Everyone stares at me like I'm a monster. Fearing that I will bite or kill them, that I will hurt them. Grasping the fruit basket, I walk past the whispering crowd. Holding up my chest, showing them I am proud. Inside, I am angry: I sacrificed myself to be like this. Jostled, teased at, bullied, shunned from society, all because I defended my friend. Kicked in the back, jabbed at both eyes, I had foolishly stood in front of my friend. "Let me at him," I thought. My act of love and defense lost me my eyes. Now I can't see what food I'm buying. Ocular surgery won't save me-I am doomed to stay like this all my life. Proudly, I walk...

Crash, Holler, Swish

Walking Down the Hallway

Zoom! The girl with the rolling backpack... I walk past an open classroom. "But Mr. Young, my dog ate my homework!..." I meet a mob of yelling students. "Do you think I'll make the audition?..." "Jenny won't talk to me anymore..." "Why can't I wear this hat in class?..." "Mrs. Martinez assigned us way too much homework..." Splash! The secretary spilled her coffee. Her heels clack as she runs to the janitor's closet. I hear a long buzz in an office. "Jack Johnson's lunch is by the front desk." I turn and saunter down the empty hallway. And then I only hear one sound and it is Silence.

Open Prompt

Welcome to my "Blog"*!

Read these beautiful words carefully, savor every thought and memory that this poem conjures up.

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still like dust I rise.

Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see my broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words You may cut me with your eyes You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise.

Out of huts...

Real-World Problem Solver

U.S. Education

Coming from a private school, which holds extremely high standards for academics, I was shocked to learn that there were middle school students in a public school at a nearby city that were reading Clifford books, when I was already devouring works of Tolkien, Shakespeare, and Virgil. Another moment I remember from ages ago, was when I was in fifth grade. My fellow friends were discussing how to multiply fractions to whole numbers, while I had was already reviewing the quadratic equation concepts at my school. I agree that my attitude should have embodied more humility, rather than disdain, but to this day, I still think that the education in the United States should be more education-centered, and set higher standards for children.

First, I will describe how my change will affect the future generation of students and children. Education isn't the key to everything, but it does hold certain importance in the future of ones life. It will enable...

Write a Letter to Yourself

It's OK to Fail

To my future self,

It doesn't matter what I do in the future world; I have one simple wish: to make it a better place for the next generation to live. Whether it be a lawyer, who defends disadvantaged people, a scientist, who finds a cure for Alzheimer’s disease, or a writer, who will bless children with wonderful books, I hope that my life will support other people. I believe that I was born to be there for other people in need. Right now, I am part of a debate team, which will prepare me if my calling is to be a lawyer; my rigorous academic schedule, which highly specializes in math, will equip me with skills that are necessary to become a scientist. This wonderful Write the World program, along with my novel, develops the strength needed to pen great works.

I don't want to live in some fancy apartment in New York City, or a grand mansion which...

The Unseen

Happiness Haiku

Happiness is light

That shows the way in sad times

Felicity's here

Time Travel

I Am With the Poor

Dear Journal,

It's a one room house, the wooden floor creaking as people walk on it. There is one bed, the metal bed posts rusting, a child in rags pulling a wholly thin sheet, pulling it up to its chin. Across the room is a broken table, cracked pots and pans piled on it high. The window is dusty, and clothes are strewn everywhere. The mother sits at the edge of a plastic chair as I stare into her face. She's only half way through life, but the wrinkles on her face have gone deep. Her lips are dry, her skin smudged with dirt. Eyebrows curved down, staring into the distance. Then her eyes. They're brown and large, full of worry. No more joy- but wait! I see another thing. Fear? No, it's hope. Hope that the children that are on her shoulders will one day grow up in a richer community, with more opportunities.

The Great Depression is one...

Team Machine

Welcome to the Fears of Parliamentary Debate

My knuckles whiten as I walk through the hallway of a strange school. I clutch several sheets of colored paper while my head is throbbing from fear. You might think this is my very first day at a new school, but you are wrong. It's worse than arriving at a different school. It was the my first menacing debate tournament. My comforting fellow debaters tried to assure me that I would be fine, but I wasn't. What if I stuttered? What if I couldn't come up with any refutations? What if I couldn't handle the heckles*? And even worse, what if I fainted? These "if's" echoed in my head as my two other teammates came to the cold classroom.

The classroom is humongous, and student work is hung up on the whiteboard and wall. Falsely cheerful posters adorn the opposite wall. My three opponents are already waiting for us there, looking like lions ready to feast on their prey. They...

Lucky or not?

Tossing and turning in my sleep, flapping my arms like a bird. Soaring through the sky, shooting through the puffy clouds, twisting the sheets on the bed.

" It's all a dream," I say to myself.

Why can't I fly?

My alarm rings with a cacophonous noise. I grumble, I groan. Another day of waking up at six in the morning to walk to school.

Why does school have to start so early?

I trudge sullenly down the road. The world seems ugly- rotting plants, sick trees, gray clouds. My clothes are wrinkled and old. I pass the colossal mansions, with gates gilded with gold, and look back at my own tiny house, with paint peeling off.

Why did my mom have to lose her job?

I enter the building, and settle down into class. I'm hungry- forgot to eat the most important meal of the day. Another girl sits down, devouring her cinnamon bun, dipping apples into caramel, sipping...

Lucky or not?

Tossing and turning in my sleep, flapping my arms like a bird. Soaring through the sky, shooting through the puffy clouds twisting the sheets on the bed.

" It's all a dream," I say to myself.

Why can't I fly?

My alarm rings with a cacophonous noise. I grumble, I groan. Another day of waking up at six in the morning to walk to school.

Why does school have to start so early?

I trudge sullenly down the road. The world seems ugly- rotting plants, sick trees, gray clouds. My clothes are wrinkled and old. I pass the colossal mansions, with gates gilded with gold, and look back at my own tiny house, with paint peeling off.

Why did my mom have to lose her job?

I enter the building, and settle down into class. I'm hungry- forgot to eat the most important meal of the day. Another girl sits down, devouring her cinnamon bun, dipping apples into caramel, sipping...

Life Through A Window

Night through a Window

He runs down the dark road desperately

Away from his house

After a while,

He trips.

Someone reaches out to help him.

There is a lady; with looks that are

Inconceivable,

But her figure is slender.

He gives his guide

A whisper of gratitude.

The village clock strikes three.

"Want to sit?"

She points at the wooden garden bench.

Her voice is wispy and light.

The world seems beautiful

From this different perspective

At night.

The many hued petals of the daisy

Glow in the light of the thin crescent,

Showering glints of rainbow hidden in the

Shadows.

Half-wilted daffodils sparkle past the garden gate

And the wind whips through the purple orchids.

Silence.

Even in the darkest night

The vibrant lilies bloom.

The other side of the world

Is here.

The village clock strikes four.

Sitting side by side,

She turns to him.

"Do you want to stay?"

He nods.

Chrysanthemums and sunflowers

Glitter like jewels under the twinkling...

A Chance Taxi Ride

Long Lost Faith

Flashback ten years ago. We were together, so close everyone thought we were sisters. We did everything with each other, nobody ever saw me without seeing you. We were what people called friends. But slowly, you started drifting away. Your blue eyes which once shown with eagerness had lost its excitement. It gleamed with selfishness. You were always with your own group of people, excluding me. I felt ignored. Pain shot through me as I saw you walking with somebody else to school. It was never me. I thought our bondage would never occur again.

Ten years into the present. I slid into the taxi cab and paid my fare.

"The airport?" He asked, taking my money.

"Yes. Quickly." I nodded. A few moments later, we screeched to a stop. I frowned.

"I asked for a quick ride. Why are we stopping now?" I asked the taxi driver. He didn't respond, but let the woman in the cab. She was...

Life Through A Window

Night through a Window

He runs down the dark road; after a while, he trips. Someone reaches out to help him. There is a lady; with looks that are inconceivable, but her figure is slender. He gives his guide a whisper of gratitude. The village clock strikes three. "Want to sit?" She points at the wooden garden bench. Her voice is wispy and light. The world seems beautiful from this different perspective at night. The many hued petals of the daisy glow in the light of the thin crescent, showering glints of rainbow light hidden in the shadows. Half-wilted daffodils sparkle past the garden gate and the wind whips through the purple orchids. Silence. Even in the darkest night the vibrant lilies bloom. The other side of the world is here. The village clock strikes four. Sitting side by side, She turns to him. "Do you want to stay?" He nods. Chrysanthemums and sunflowers glitter like jewels under the twinkling stars. Life is like...