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Mary Millar

Australia

I just want to write as much as I can. Follow me on tumblr: www.ephirae.tumblr.com

1667

Mary Millar (Australia) published:

A Day of Adoption [Working Title] - Chapter 1

PROMPT: Novel Writing Competition 2016

“Maddison?” her voice prompted.

My dull eyes lifted their gaze towards the woman sitting on the opposite chair. She held a pad in her manicured hands with random notes written in an illegible script. Some had lines through them and others were circled. As much as I hated my time here, curiosity ruled over animosity. I wondered what they said, and why my therapist thought they were important.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” Michele slowly leaned...

over 1 year ago

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Mary Millar (Australia) earned a badge Competitor

over 1 year ago

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1

Mary Millar (Australia) published:

Curse

FREE WRITING

For as long as I could remember, I’d been cursed with a strange tingle of anticipation whenever someone spoke. My muscles practically quivered the entire time, constantly waiting and waiting and waiting for something to happen, some word to be said. I usually go about my daily life, unaffected by this curse, but…
 
But we do not speak of the one time something did.
 
Okay, fine. I’ll tell you.
 
I was sat down with Myles on the...

over 1 year ago

1667

Mary Millar (Australia) liked Would you do this for me? by Jess Perrin (Australia)

over 1 year ago

1667
Super star

Mary Millar (Australia) earned a badge Superstar

over 1 year ago

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Prolific

Mary Millar (Australia) earned a badge Prolific

over 1 year ago

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3

Mary Millar (Australia) published:

By Chance

FREE WRITING

I, being the idiot who couldn’t understand Fahrenheit, hadn’t realised how cold it was until I stepped out onto the balcony. My jumper was sweet relief against the biting wind. I leant over the railing, my breath mingling with the steam of the hot chocolate I’d snuck up from the buffet downstairs.

Bare branches reached up from the streets below, a sea of colourless leaves in perfect rings around their trunks. Distant beeps and sirens rang out from somewhere in...

over 1 year ago

1667
1

Mary Millar (Australia) published:

The Girl, The Boy

FREE WRITING

There's a girl in my class who was an unexpected find. She is so incredibly kind and passionate and is always willing to give advice to help my drastically-poor-by-comparison art skills. We often share glances, then burst into giggles without saying a word. My soul lights up every time I see her, speak with her, think of her.
 
There's a boy in my class who was an unexpected find. He is funny and genuine and truly gives me every...

almost 2 years ago

1667

Mary Millar (Australia) published:

The Girl, The Boy

FREE WRITING

There's a girl in my class who was an unexpected find. She is so incredibly kind and passionate and is always willing to give advice to help my drastically-poor-by-comparison art skills. We often share glances, then burst into giggles without saying a word. My soul lights up every time I see her, speak with her, think of her.
 
There's a boy in my class who was an unexpected find. He is funny and genuine and truly gives me every...

almost 2 years ago

1667

Mary Millar (Australia) liked The soldiers who danced by Roisin Dauth (Australia)

almost 2 years ago

Published Work

Novel Writing Competition 2016

A Day of Adoption [Working Title] - Chapter 1

“Maddison?” her voice prompted.

My dull eyes lifted their gaze towards the woman sitting on the opposite chair. She held a pad in her manicured hands with random notes written in an illegible script. Some had lines through them and others were circled. As much as I hated my time here, curiosity ruled over animosity. I wondered what they said, and why my therapist thought they were important.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” Michele slowly leaned forward and cupped her hands on her knees, “but you need to cooperate.”

Diluted sunlight glinted off the snake bracelets on her wrists and into my eyes. I squinted. By this point, I'd rather deal with the pain throbbing at the back of mind than listen to her.

I crossed my arms and sighed, discreetly glancing down at my wrist again for the umpteenth time that session. We were ten minutes over. Great.

But she was persistent, and kept staring...

Curse

For as long as I could remember, I’d been cursed with a strange tingle of anticipation whenever someone spoke. My muscles practically quivered the entire time, constantly waiting and waiting and waiting for something to happen, some word to be said. I usually go about my daily life, unaffected by this curse, but…
 
But we do not speak of the one time something did.
 
Okay, fine. I’ll tell you.
 
I was sat down with Myles on the couch, watching old re-runs of The IT Crowd.
 
“Man,” he said as he sipped on the cocktail I’d made him, “I’d totally bang Richard Ayoade though.”
 
“Who, Moss?” I shot back, watching his character very calmly drink some water as the camera slowly zoomed into the Countdown clock counting down.
 
“’Course. He’s hot, don’t you think?”
 
I scoffed. “Never thought you were into the nerdy types.”
 
“Exactly. It’s why I don't like you.”
  ...

By Chance

I, being the idiot who couldn’t understand Fahrenheit, hadn’t realised how cold it was until I stepped out onto the balcony. My jumper was sweet relief against the biting wind. I leant over the railing, my breath mingling with the steam of the hot chocolate I’d snuck up from the buffet downstairs.

Bare branches reached up from the streets below, a sea of colourless leaves in perfect rings around their trunks. Distant beeps and sirens rang out from somewhere in the city. The sunrise had just cleared the horizon, and cast a beautiful glow on the aged buildings opposite me. There was very little noise, save for the birds. Only a few wanderers roamed at this early hour of the morning.

This place was a pure dream.

 “Hey.”

A voice interrupted my reverie, and I looked around to see a girl my age leaning over the balcony beside me, her long hair dangling around the glass panes. She was...

The Girl, The Boy

There's a girl in my class who was an unexpected find. She is so incredibly kind and passionate and is always willing to give advice to help my drastically-poor-by-comparison art skills. We often share glances, then burst into giggles without saying a word. My soul lights up every time I see her, speak with her, think of her.
 
There's a boy in my class who was an unexpected find. He is funny and genuine and truly gives me every bit of his attention when I speak because I can see it. Conversation comes so easily when we talk, no awkward silences, twiddling thumbs, or quick glances around the room in search of distraction. It is the first time where I’ve felt that I’ve truly clicked with another person.
 
Her eyes are the moon, gentle and guiding.
 
His smile is the sun, radiant and refreshing.
 
And I love them both so much.

The Girl, The Boy

There's a girl in my class who was an unexpected find. She is so incredibly kind and passionate and is always willing to give advice to help my drastically-poor-by-comparison art skills. We often share glances, then burst into giggles without saying a word. My soul lights up every time I see her, speak with her, think of her.
 
There's a boy in my class who was an unexpected find. He is funny and genuine and truly gives me every bit of his attention when I speak because I can see it. Conversation comes so easily when we talk, no awkward silences, twiddling thumbs, or quick glances around the room in search of distraction. It is the first time where I’ve felt that I’ve truly clicked with another person.
 
Her eyes are the moon, gentle and guiding.
 
His smile is the sun, radiant and refreshing.
 
And I love them both so much.

The Hole

Michael stared down at the empty hole, arms frozen mid-movement. His grip on the shovel slackened, and crumbs of dirt trickled down the pile that felt heavier with each passing moment. He knew this campus like the back of his hand, dammit! He was sure this was where he’d left the body.

His stomach filled with dread. But what if somebody moved it? No, that couldn’t be possible. There was no one even here at this time of night, only the security guards. Speaking of them – he checked his watch. It would be another 6.2 minutes until they came back around here.

He swore to himself. He’d timed everything to the second, and now there was this? He dumped the shovel on the ground and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He checked his watch again. 11.4 minutes until the security cameras would reactivate. Six minutes until security came back around. If it...

Map

Rowan rolled over in her sleeping bag, her mouth dry and mind groggy. The warmth of the animal fur drew her further in, and the wind served her a cool blast of air that promised an icy day ahead. But the day ahead was nothing she could hide from, so despite her reluctance to do so she opened her eyes and rubbed away the sand that had built up over the night.
 
As she stretched, a figure emerged from the bushes some way ahead. Rowan immediately woke up, and after several moments of her mind racing to find places to hide she realised that the person was Sage.
 
“By the stars, Sage, you scared me half to Unalir!”
 
Sage’s response was a nonchalant shrug as she tossed an apple in the air. Rowan’s eyes grew wide. It was an unbelievable shade of red and shone like a star. Her mouth watered at the sight of it. Sage...

Don't be Afraid to be Significant

As the reality of being a high school graduate is slowly coming together in my mind, I’ve realised that I have a lot to thank my school for.
 
In primary school, I was one of the shyest people in my grade. I would hang around with the people I called friends like sand after a trip to the beach, and the words “Mary” and “meeting new people” would rarely be spoken in the same sentence, unless there was a “definitely doesn’t like” somewhere in the middle. So it would be safe to say that taking the leap into high school was one of the scariest experiences for eleven year-old me. The first people who even showed a slight interest in me were the ones I clung to, and perhaps it was this which what drove them away.
 
In another effort to not be without friends, among the many clubs I joined that first year was the choir, and...

Serum

A smashed bottle lay in front of her, still half-full of that bitter blue liquid. The rest was draped over the smaller shards. Even from this distance, she could see it slipping through the uneven cracks of the floorboards and hear it land on the hollow pipes underneath the makeshift lab. The sound rung in her ears. Each drop was like a crash of cymbals and served only to amplify the pain from the serum.
 
The pain. It felt like tiny mouths were gnawing on her insides, and rivers of lava were melting her veins. It drove the breath from her body and the thoughts from her mind. But she couldn’t even react to it. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t twitch. Her body was paralysed.
 
A flash of light shone in her eyes, but she couldn’t focus her gaze to the bottle, nor move her sight anywhere else. She could only take in everything at once.
 
Two...

Chained

Rest had become a forgotten privilege, and this was a rare time in which she could treasure it. The basement she was chained up in reeked of blood and rotten flesh. The blood - definitely hers, and by deduction, the flesh was a combination of other victims.

It wasn’t completely dark. Her screams had earned her a small candle in the farthest corner of the room whose light was harsh to her now unaccustomed eyes. Nevertheless, she watched it, no breeze to make it flicker. The dripping wax never made it past an inch, the cold air made sure it hardened fast.

Amber shivered. The combination of the low temperature and her wrists moving inside their silver chains made her hiss into the silence. The entirety of her body felt numb. She’d been strung up like a piece of meat in a butchery. 

She was so stupid to come here alone, to find out about all those mysterious deaths. But...

Photo Prompt

Rush

There is always a constant whirl of colour, and a stream of incomprehensible voices. There are always places to go, people to see. The constant murmuring is deafening. People push and shove to pave their way. A phone rings. A baby cries. Someone despairs over a lost opportunity. Sounds melt into each other until they become this rush of noise that forever assaults the senses.

Everyone walks on, and, despite the intimacy, takes no notice of one another. Acknowledgement, yes. Recognition, perhaps. The moment is fleeting, and later forgotten. Faces blend into one another, and they create this inexplicable memory that is remembered only in dreams.

There is no moment of stillness. The world moves on.

Except you. You, who captures this moment in the click of a button. 

Floating

Floating

It’s the feeling of sleeping in on a Sunday morning, tucking your exposed feet back into the covers as you curl up in the warmth kept from a cool night, sunlight streaming in from your window.

It’s the feeling of getting a bright red ‘A’ on an assignment you worked so hard on that you feel like nothing could keep down your high for at least a week.

It’s the feeling of hearing your favourite song on the radio, and knowing every sing word, you belt it out unashamed.

Because, that feeling – that feeling of floating – is something you’ve got to grab and never let go!

All Gone

Dangling lights swung with creaking groans as a lone breeze slunk into the room. Bits of paper danced over shattered glass and shapes of brown and red. Empty window frames supported crumbling walls, the sound of falling plaster being the only thing piercing the never-ending silence.

There was no life here. Not anymore. Couldn’t be. Any new life would be wiped out instantly. That fact became instantly obvious from the fetid bodies littered on the floor. Actually, a flood would be a better word to use. There was no earth or concrete, only half rotten skeletons.  

There was one small empty space however, marked only by a chair. A wall of bodies surrounded a pair of rotting hands gripped tightly around a crude spear run through its own heart; and two words written in now dried blood: All Gone.

Run!

Do you know what it’s like to run? Like really run? Where you’re running so fast that it’s a miracle that you’re not tripping over your own feet?

Because this kind of running is not the sort seen at your annual cross country marathon where you’re heaving after roughly a minute after failing to get in front of the endurance racers. Nor is this the kind of running where you race to the bus with false hope in your heart, even though it’s already pulling away. Not even the sprinters truly know what it’s like.

That feeling of achievement – of winning – is all fine and dandy, I can assure you. But it’s not enough… Fear is a more vicious motivator. It forces you to ignore your limits – no; fear forces you to throw those limits out the window whether you like it or not because they don’t matter. Never mind about being worried about how fast...

Mary Millar's 11 Likes

Would you do this for me? by Jess Perrin

Published over 1 year ago

The soldiers who danced by Roisin Dauth

Published almost 2 years ago

The Worst Thing Of All by Roisin Dauth

Published almost 2 years ago

oh thank god (and assorted unfocused thoughts) by Tacita

Published almost 2 years ago

My True Love by Sarah Grimson

Published about 2 years ago

The Invincibles by Sarah D

Published about 2 years ago

Never Yours by Sjanni

Published about 2 years ago

For Her by Stewart Worthington

Published about 2 years ago

Obstinance and Stargazing by Grace Mary Potts

Published over 2 years ago

Where Were You? by Maeghan Bielski

Published almost 3 years ago

Floating by Maeghan Bielski

Published almost 3 years ago

6 Likes from Others

By Chance

Liked by 3 people

The Girl, The Boy

Liked by 1 person

The Hole

Liked by 1 person

Serum

Liked by 1 person

Map

Liked by 1 person

Run!

Liked by 1 person

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We like your photo and your biography.

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