This year the Creative Writing Club has continued to meet after school on Fridays for writing, chatting and the occasional biscuit. Much of the writing which the group did also took place in their own time since writing tends to be a solitary activity. We hope that you enjoy this selection of writing: a poem, two stories which were inspired by a photo of a huge pile of carrots and an essay.

The infinite lid of stars
smothering the city
is sucked away like glitter down a plug hole,
revealing pillows of peaches
ripe and waiting
for the world to eat.
- Tessa Marshall

Carrotggedon
“Good morning, everybody, thank you for tuning into Channel 26 news. Police are on the scene in our city square after reports are being filed that carrots are falling from the sky. I’ll pass you on to John Davis who has more details on the matter.”
“Thank you, Julie. As you can see behind me, authorities are making desperate attempts to control the crowds after many people are claiming to have been hit by a carrot. The first eye-witnesses on scene are here to talk to us next, followed by a clip of video footage taken by an anonymous source who has recently posted it onto TikTok with the caption of ‘Carrotggedon’.”
Cell phone footage plays, backed by dramatic and emphasised screaming and audio.
“Thank you to @user21028 for that video submission, with us now is one of the eye-witnesses we mentioned earlier. So, tell us, what do you remember of the events before the Carolution, as it has been named.”
“W-well,” she stuttered, still being tendered to by the ambulance team.
“I- I was going about my routine, running errands at the corner store, when I walked out and saw a thin line on the horizon. The sun was still shining so I thought nothing of it, that was until I felt a thud on my head and saw a single carrot laying on the sidewalk. I- I looked around thinking someone had accidentally dropped it from their balcony, but there was another thud in the flowerpot on my right”
She points to the cracked flowerpot with 3 carrots impaling the sides.
“I l-looked up and there above me, like a wave of the ocean, an orange mass was towering over me ready to swallow me up. I ran and ended up here, which is where I found myself with the paramedics, and as I checked around me, the wave was gone.”
The camera points back to John who was fixing his hair in the wind.
“Oh, right yes, what a terrible situation, you're in good hands now. Handing it back to the studio with Vanessa Morgan on weather, I’m John Davis and this is Channel 26.”
“Thanks John, as our witness mentioned before there was an unidentified line on the East Coast at around 11am this morning, which blocked our servers from collecting any accurate weather data for this afternoon. Our researchers have determined that this ‘orange carrot mass’ or whatever you would like to call it, is not a threat and is possibly just a trick of the eye or a prank. Now with the weather for this afterno -”
The camera flickers back to John as the blue sky turns an ominous shade of orange. Whimpers and cries fill the air as static cracks from the microphone.
“Well as you can see,” John wails attempting to hold his hair and microphone at the same time.
“Our researchers were wrong and we are currently dealing with a code orange, ironic I know. Behind me is the wave our witness warned us about, I am currently hearing now that the Police are sending vehicles to the location to attempt to stop this wave from attacking us.”
A rumbling noise rolls over the lush hills that once protected the area. A great wave stands over the town deepening the orange of the sky. As if they were ink, the carrots use each other to write in the air, forming an extensive list, bullet pointed from 1 to 72.
“Behind me,” the determined news reporter screeches, still clutching to his hair and microphone. “It appears our carrot… ‘pals’ have written a list of what I assume are their demands, if I am reading correctly it says they won’t give up until there is a compromise.”
More static from his earpiece crackles.
“We have Mikey McCoy who is known for always getting to the root of an issue, acting as our head negotiator today, along with troops of peacekeepers and anyone with a cell phone hoping to go viral.”
As if his instincts were wired to detect a negotiation crisis, the outline of a figure who appears to be surfing amongst the wave of Vitamin C dismounts his board in the frame of the camera.
“Greetings, I am McCoy and there appears to be an issue with some protestors? Ah yes, found them”
He says looking up at the wave now towering over the town.
“Let me just get up there and this will all be over in a sec”
Baffled, John stands in front of the camera and watches in awe as McCoy uses the carrots as a ladder standing on the top and peering down on the crowd.
“I am here to talk to your, well, leader? If you want to call it that”
There was silence until one carrot with two of its fronds slightly larger than the others emerges and sits perched upon the others so that it is eye level with McCoy. Minutes pass and what seems like a single sided conversation comes to an end and McCoy walks down holding a shrivelled leaf with orange written on either side.
“Here in my hand I hold the declaration of caropendance. As you can see above me, in what once was our beautiful blue sky, is a list of 72 demands from the carrots none of which we as a civilization, could agree to. So, with some of my signature quick thinking, and negotiation skills, of course, we came to an agreement that carrots would only be eaten on a Tuesday-Saturday basis and anyone seen dealing, consuming, or harvesting our carrot friends on a Sunday or Monday will have to report to the law offices of the carrots where they will receive an appropriate punishment as deemed necessary.”
The crowd stood there in silence. On one hand they didn’t like the fact that their carrot privileges were being restricted, but on the other they weren’t going to speak up about it as the carrot court seemed terrifying to think about.
“So, now that this agreement is signed and approved, we have reached a final settlement where the carrots will go back to, well, wherever it is that they all came from, and we will be able to co-exist as before.”
There is a weak enthusiastic cheer from the crowd, all of who hope this is some sort of joke, watch as the carrots, who, now had their demands met, slowly fall from the sky and land in a pile in the centre of the town square.
“Right, let’s hand it back to the studio with Julie, this is John Davis, signing off, from what will go down in Newhaven’s history as Carrotggedon.”
- Maya Livermore-Lewis

Today the Sky Rained Carrots
They fell and fell and fell. Bright orange and a range of sizes. Vegetables falling from the sky onto helpless onlookers. They tried to put up umbrellas to protect themselves from the sudden downpour of carrots. But it was no use. The fire brigade was called to pull people out from underneath the sea of carrots. But it was no use. With every person pulled out another three were pulled under. A digger came in the hope that they could push the carrots away. But it was no use. The carrots were fighting back.
A revolution of vegetables, fighting and biting and scratching. People tried to eat them to get them out of the way. But it was no use. The carrots weren’t being eaten. They were eating. Each carrot was now the size of a pumpkin and almost as fat as one too, but still they surged forward, in a synchronised wave. They were growing and growing, destroying everything in their tracks. Cars. Buses. People.
A young girl dropped her toy bunny. She screamed and cried out, she bit and scratched. No one could keep hold of her. She ran toward the onslaught of orange. She tripped on a newly formed crack in the tarmac and grazed a knee. She started screaming again. But no one would go to her. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes and began pouring down her cheeks. But no one would go to her.
She began crawling towards the fluffy pink bunny with button eyes, and nobody stopped her. She snatched the bunny off the ground and held it close. “I’ll love you forever and ever,” the little girl whispered into its fabric ear. She looked up from her rabbit, the biggest joy of her life and stared straight into the eye of a carrot.
She held the ragged rabbit out to the monster. Innocent. Trusting. The carrot stopped in its tracks. Staring at the girl. The innocent young girl who would give her life for a stuffed animal, and it felt something deep inside of it. An odd feeling, one that could not be described by words. But that feeling made it stop devouring, burning, breaking, and destroying. One that made all the carrots stop devouring, burning, breaking, and destroying.
If one girl would do that for a stuffed toy, then maybe the world was ok. Maybe it wasn’t as broken and fractured as they thought. Maybe there was no need to destroy humans to save the world. Because if everyone thought like this little girl, if they didn’t want to destroy this beautiful place, their only planet, their only option then maybe the earth would have a future after all. The carrot took the bunny and stared into its black button eyes, maybe just maybe the next generation would be different. Maybe the next generation would be better.
The carrot handed the rabbit back to the little girl, who hugged it tightly. In the space of a second the carrot saw that little girl’s future. Her constant battle against others of her kind. Her fight to save the world. Her world. The carrot smiled at this. Its exterior melted away leaving not a trace of its existence.
Today the sky rained carrots. Today a monster showed mercy. Today a small girl saved the world.
- Neve Overend

Sexism is an issue in professional sports today
Sexism against women is alive in professional sports today. Sexism has been around in sports for hundreds of years and it still continues to this day. In some instances, sports men are considered more valuable than sports women. You would think in this era there would be equality in sports, but, in my opinion, it remains in the top ten biggest problems in the world.
Firstly, I will raise the issue of male athletes getting paid more than women. Worldwide, the average professional sports woman only gets paid 84% of what the equivalent man would. This is unfair because men and woman work equal hours and equally as hard. It is argued that more people would pay to go to a male sports game then a woman's game. However, there is a question about male athletes get more advertising than women, so this would result in more spectators viewing their games and providing additional revenue. It is also argued that more men attend sports games as spectators and therefore are more interested in watching men. But is this not further discrimination against women who have less access to such events? Therefore, this is an issue that also relates to unfair pay across other industries too.
Secondly, men get more advertising than woman. Have you ever noticed how most sport ads are male models and sport professionals? Because of their greater media attention, men get more opportunities to attract sponsorship. Many people have argued that the low coverage of women's sports stems from the lack of interest in watching it. If there are no viewers, sports media has less inclination to put the time and effort into covering it. By men being more represented in sports advertising, it may have the effect of attracting men rather than women and continue to support stereotypes. So, advertises make sure men get more fame because more and more people will see those ads and then play and watch those sports.
Thirdly, the uniform expectations are usually different for men and women. When I was younger, girls were expected to wear skirts to hockey training when boys could wear whatever they wanted. This is an example of sexism, where one gender is discriminated against based on their sex or gender. In many cases, women wear more revealing uniform playing sports than men. Women must wear those tight, virtually non-existent shorts that are the norm on volleyball courts. Of course, these bare minimum uniforms must be all about sports performance - the less material, the less restrictive, the tighter the clothes, the easier to move. If that is so, then why do male volleyball players wear baggy shorts and tank tops? The easy answer: It is a ploy to sexualize the female body. “If the uniforms are regulated and women would prefer to wear something else, something that covers more skin and they can't, then this is problematic,” explains Ann Savage, a professor who specializes in gender, women, and sexuality studies at Butler University. This shows that women’s and men’s sports uniforms have very different rules and is another example of sexism in sport.
In conclusion, there is sexism in sport today. It can be seen by inequalities in pay, media exposure, and different uniform standards. I hope that someday in the future, society will work towards making playing fields equal.
- Emma Gray