Sketch of city street with tram, pedestrians, and buildings including cafe and bookshop

Trina Writes

Reflecting, Crafting and Drafting Narratives

Stories begin with curiosity. I started writing because I wanted to explore the stories within everyday life—the quiet moments, small details, and observations that often pass unnoticed.

  • Will The Bird Sing?

    An autumn afternoon, when the rain isn’t in a hurry, from my window, I see a magpie, perched alone on a wire.  I anticipate its calls, or maybe it’ll sing, … Read more ⇢

    Will The Bird Sing?
  • Monster

    There is a monster hiding for all to see. He grins, he mocks, revealing his disguise, he’s waving as I speak, waving back at me. It reminds me of that… Read more ⇢

    Monster
  • Best advice?

    Nobody’s coming for you. In other words: depend on yourself, and don’t always look for others to figure it out for you. Read more ⇢

  • Orphan Thoughts

    The cat is unusually quiet today; she is typically talkative.  I see her fixed on something outside—it’s a crow. My little furry predator lies like the Sphinx, keeping her eye… Read more ⇢

    Orphan Thoughts
  • imagine neverland

    If she had a parent, would she allow her way?If she had a place,would she be content to stray?A child-like Peter Panin his Never-Never,Neverland. With no guidance,the dreams remain unrealized.Those imaginary… Read more ⇢

    imagine neverland
  • Nature’s Twisted Mess

    The sound that can’t find me,alone in the room,a consumption of emptiness,no longer reminds me of you,a degree of hallowthat envelopes me too I long for the voidthat comfortsin twine.I… Read more ⇢

    Nature’s Twisted Mess
  • Pieces

    Pieces of me chip, chipping away.like paint from a forgotten wall,unseen, they drift, flake and fall.Not to you,Not to them,But to me. I’m devoted to peeling,tearing backthe uncultivated,the uncharted,Parts of… Read more ⇢

  • astray

    Remind me of the love that I create. Tell me the story so it’s not too late.  They take our memory they hoard our past forget the future we knew… Read more ⇢

  • raspberries

    The raspberries taste like home, transporting me back to a place that’s no more. The memory is tied up with the happenings, knoted into a bow. I remember the path.… Read more ⇢

    raspberries
  • Things that Fall Away

    Leaving today will bring the tears. Tomorrow arrives, where is the sorrow? All the things we didn’t know, is leaving without warning. A loss, they say, implies a found. You… Read more ⇢

Read more: Will The Bird Sing?