Creative Writing

Watching Drunk People Drink

Heads thrown back, lips wrapped around the neck of a green, glass container. The security guard attempts to contain them in the barriers of the ‘smoking area’ but it does not work. They are spilling out all over the street.


The swaying man whose conversation had just been cut short, curtoisy of gravity and drunken clumsiness, swears. He keels over at the speed of light, scoops up his love with a sober sort of competency.  He swears again. Shit. His once sleek scratch free screen is now a hundred tiny pieces. He talks into the phone telling it of his upset. Sharing the drears of the moment. He swears again. His face is cut, a tear of  blood rolls down his cheek.

Over in the corner is another religiousless being. Her face flat on the cold brick wall. When she came out she was accompanied by two of her gals. They had their smoke and they got chatted up a little. She didn’t realised any of it her minds dancing through closed eyelids out onto the street. Sound mean nothing to her. It was cold, hat scarf and gloves cold, but she wore a mini skirt and a leotard. The skin on her arms were scratched and pickled. That mean nothing to her. She was content to stand on shaking legs, faced pressed into the brick. She would regret it in the morning, when she would wake up for church unable to explain away the evidence of her intoxicated transgressions.

There was a girl with unicorn hair, who had a brunt tye friend. They wore similar clothes, as a matter of fact all the girls did bar two. Mini skirt leotard or some other skin tight top and chunky ankle boots. The unicorn girl fell backwards and forwards off of the arm of her male companion. For a second she would lean to far forward and her head would be level with his chest then she would realise and lean too far back aligning her head with the on coming bus pull into the bus stop. Had it not been for the man who had the blood tear rolling down his face, she would have got hit by the bus and probably died. He saved her by standing in the middle of the ‘bus stop’ sign printed on the road, which usual presence forced the driver to break early, releasing the unicorn girl from the clutches of death.

The brunette friend was glazed. It is possibly she had done more than drinking. She appeared to have noticed this near tragic incident and made not an inch of effort to stop it. And fair play to her, her little chubby unicorn friend somehow managed to get the attention of of the boys, while she stood tall above them all in all her artificial height. Looking sullenly down on it all.

Another girl on the other side of barriers that the security man, once again attempted to line up to fit in with their rental floor space allowence, got a hole in her mini skirt. A short lad who was extremely loud, fast and jumpy was smoking. He lowered his had for a talk break, as he spoke about some foolishness his cigarette burned her bum. She didn’t feel it. She was stroking her damp hand along someone’s cheek and up his nose. He didn’t stop her, although he didn’t know where her hands had been and from the feel of their dampness he imagined she has pissed all over them. He grabbed her neck and she kissed him. Then the Spanish began to sing some sort of anthem.

Lights come on, a director walks out and tells them they did perfect. Besides the guy who needed to sort out his cheek and the blood they were all free to go home.  The camera man says he’s got rush, good night. And a bald, tall Asian princess calls a list of people and hands them their call sheets.

The extras would no longer be of any use.

Creative Writing, Flash Fiction, Journal Log's

Dear London,

Dear London,

Winter is just around the corner, but as the days slowly pass by it feels as though it is here, as though it has been here forever. I cant feel my ears, my fingers and thumbs or my toes and partly that is my fault. I dared to fall asleep for just a moment. In that moment a silent bandit came upon me and took my hat and my shoes right off of my body. I know, I know, that sounds unbelievable right? But when your entire body is as numb as an icecube with nothing but a a shirt and jeans to keep it from melting into oblivion, I’m telling you, you cannot feel the touch of another’s human hands.

The rain and winds throughout the day are difficult. I do wonder if I am invisible sometimes. I often get cigarette butts flicked to me. Not out of generosity or nothing, I don’t smoke. It is probably by accident, or out of ignorance. Rarely do I get the odd angel who gives me a food voucher or some change. That’s nice.

One time I popped into McDonald’s on the Strand for a cup of tea and a muffin and they told me I could only order if I agreed to get a take away. I turned around and pointed into the rain. But that wasn’t convincing enough to them. ‘customers will complain’, they said. I laughed and left. At that time of the morning there were no customers.
I slipped into my already soaking wet sleeping bag and drank my tea.

I no longer have a sleeping bag though. A few weeks back when I left my stuff to go into a café and pee but came back I could not find my sleeping bag anywhere.

So now, I live without any provisions. I have been praying to God to help me, but then I realised… and this is why I write my plea. You are the answer to my prayers. You can help me. With what little you might have, you can help.

If you have a hat, I’d be pleased for it. If you have some spare socks that would be a dream come true. If you have, although its unlikely, an unused sleeping bag, that would be heaven.

If you’re unsure about what I might need or be grateful for just ask. I’d be happy to have a moment of your company. You can find me at the end of your road, and around the corner from your work, sometimes, I sit by the train station and the homeless person across the road from your gym, that’s me too.
I promise I am not pulling your leg, I am putting out my plea because I am in need. Please, please, help me as I endure a homeless winter.
Love, your fellow human

By Chaneen Salako
For the A Homeless Winter campaign 2014

Creative Writing, Flash Fiction

Who She Was

She became the type of woman you might see struggling down the Oxford Street, high street, with a dozen paper bags in each hand, running for a taxi. Each paper bag would have a famous name on it and it would have some wonderful luxury inside. She wouldn’t say ‘hi’ even if she recognised you. It wasn’t very classy to have a street side conversation, apparently. She would have you book a lunch date with her or something similar.

I wouldn’t permit you to despise her because she was like this, she just didn’t know any better. She was no longer the young girl you once knew but she was still a girl. And you can’t really blame a girl for who she is until you get to know her. So you would have to get to know her all over again, and then decide if you blamed her.

I won’t tell you what I think of her, but I would like to hear what you think of her once you had gotten to know her again.

Fashion Flash Fiction, Literature

Flash Fiction: Fashion: Spectacular Spectacles


Don’t make a spectacle of yourself in those spectacular spectacles” Mr Alan chuckled to himself as he hurried passed Meg in the corridors. Mr Alan thought he was hilarious, and his chuckle turned into a session of intense laughter. He didn’t really think Meg was doing herself any harm in wearing her ‘spectacular spectacles’. They had a sleek thick black rim, and they had someone signature on the arms, they were what you might call chic. As a matter of fact he thought they did her justice. They complimented her peachy, narrow face and her shiny cropped black hair. He had always had an eye for Meg but, that eye took control over his voice box and he could never express to her in words what his eye had become so fond of. He thought she was perfect, she was all that a young woman should be. Her clothes were always clean and they always fit. He believed the way one dressed reflected their inner person, and so he knew her inner person was clean and well sized.

He was an English teacher and his favourite thing was words, and so he had a very witty way of talking and thinking. He was very fond of talking and thinking, he almost never stopped doing one or the other. It was weird that He had never said anything to Meg before this.

Meg found it weird that Mr Alan had spoken to her in such wondrous verse. She felt spectacular. Mr Alan had finally noticed her. Although, she wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but she was pleased that he meant something. She was the newest member of staff at school, but she had been there for the good part of a year, and Mr Alan had never known, before now, that she existed. She had made really good friends with all the other English teachers, and some of the teachers from other departments, but Mr Alan was a difficult task.

Her spectacles became her statement piece. She wore them every day, and every day Mr Alan would say the same thing, ‘don’t make a spectacle of your self in those in spectacular spectacles’. The funny thing was that she wasn’t required to wear spectacles for any reason. God knows why she wore them on that day, but it gained her a friend and so she would continue to wear them.

Eventually, on the last day of term Mr Alan plucked up the courage to say something else. “Miss spectacular, would you like to meet up over the holidays?”


300p for LV

I’m sure we all lust over those iconic designer pieces that we see celebrities flaunt about carelessly. But there’s always a small detail that means not all of us can have the privilege to flaunt our own too. The Price! With the price of Louis Vuitton bags starting at £1096 going up to £94,829 there is very little hope for a lot of us.

But you see, the reason why I am focusing on Louis Vuitton is because I got my own!! I mean yeah there may be a zipper missing and really worn out leather in places, BUT I have my own real Louis Vuitton bag! The best part of it was that is was on sale from its original second hand price in a Boutique in Hammersmith, London. For one day only they marked all their prices down to £8 for dresses and leathers and £3 for everything else. When I saw the neglected, little treasure sitting there in a pile with other vintage bags my heart skipped two beats. I knelt down and rescued it from the dreary pile with a gentle touch I could feel the authenticity. My heart skipped another two beats, I had to lift my head and double check the sale signs pinned up all over this gold-mine.


When I went to pay, I asked the cashier if they took card.

“Yes, of course we do” he smiled back, “that’s twelve pounds please.”

I was going crazy inside, but I had to keep a composed outward mannerism.

This reminds me of the Chanel Beauties I got from a store in Fulham, London for £13.


The Oversized


The 'What?'

This oversized, 70s style, floppy hat is a great accomplice in the sun.


> Paired with some oversized shades, you’re well protected and ready to go. 


The 'how?

'how I would reccomend styling this fab    piece.

Looking at accessories and lusting the oversized craze in addition to the oversized floppy hat and the oversized shades, why not add and oversized watch to keep track of all your timely commitments, an oversized (statement) necklace to jazz up any  outfit, and to keep in tack all your daily bits and pieces with and oversized bag.

The 'where?'

This hat is from Asos for £20 
- But for my 'thrifty fashion' month, I found this in 'Traid',
 Hammersmith, London for £8.99

The 'why?'

So recently I got the most awkward tan. Initially I didn't think I could tan
 because I am really dark skinned already and I guess I have just never noticed any signs of tanning before. It happened when, I was woken up by my mini sister, she  asked me to go and watch her school assembly (she's five and fabulous) and since it was the first time I was back in town, since the last time, I though why not spend some quality time with the family. So I got up, got dressed and got out, to put it simply. When I arrived at my sister's school the teacher told me the assembly was not on that day, it was the following week on Friday. So having dropped her off at school for the day I was really   lost for ideas on what I could do unplanned and so early that day. I decided to head home and pack up some things for a morning in the park. 

When I arrived I scouted out a shady area where I could set up shop. For a few moments this was okay, it was nice and warm but not too hot. Having been there about half an hour I began to feel really warm, like the rays of the sun was piercing into the pores of my skin. I was no longer in the shade, the sun had moved and the shade had reduced. I was on my laptop and it begun to get extremely hot. So I decided to move. I got back into the shade and half an hour later... the same thing. After this I decided, for the sake of my beloved laptop, to put the thing away. I took out a book, laid on my back and begun reading. Obviously I had my shades on, because it was almost vital to have them under such bright and hot sun light. 

WP_20130708_014A while later my mum called to find out where I had gotten to and she said she would come and meet me. When she arrived, she commented on how prepared for a 'picnic' I was. When I took  off my glasses to ... Well I don't remember why I took them off, but it did. She commented on my tan. She told me I had a large patch of lighter skin around my eyes, which were probably from the glasses. I couldn't believe it. 

I thought how stupid I looked, and I remember I was meeting a friend later that day, a friend I had not seen in over a year. When I did finally met her I kept my sun glasses on the whole time. Until she suggested going to eat some where, and typically it would be somewhere dimly lit, Nandos. I had to take them off, I had no choice. 
So this is 'why' I decided to invest in a wide brimmed floppy hat, because that way I would  have complete shady protection for my face from the sun. The rest of my body can blacken away until the sun goes away.

The first day I got it, I shoved it on my head, I didn't really bother matching and pairing  it with my outfit. Simply because I hadn't planned on obtaining the perfect buy so soon.     Luckily, it went well. And typical of London I got comments and compliments left right and   center.I love my oversized hat. Cj xx