Miriam H. Culy
Bio
Stories (9/0)
6 lessons I learnt from bed rest
I have a chronic illness known as ME. And when it flares up, I have to rest. I don’t have a choice in the matter. I'm writing this on my phone's note section after 3 days of being stuck in bed, which came after 4 days of resting at home, and I don't know how much longer it'll last. Being stuck in bed, with your body being so weak that simple tasks like going to the toilet is a struggle, is frustrating. But here are some things I've realised.
By Miriam H. Culy 3 years ago in Lifehack
Unscripted
When the green light stopped flickering to say we were off air, I ran. I ran past the people in the room who were asking me questions, past the assistant, Shana, standing by the doorway with a sympathetic expression on her face, past the tech-guy, Daniel, who was standing in the corridor in shock. I ran past them all. I dared not look, or go, back. Yet, I didn’t dare leave the building – this had just been broadcast to the whole country. Shutting the door behind me, I went into a small changing room, not my one, or they’d find me too easily. It contained a dressing table with a mirror, a tiny sofa, and a sink. After fumbling about in my pocket, I found the key that would lock the door. I had the place to myself, for now.
By Miriam H. Culy 3 years ago in Fiction
The brown paper isn't torn
"Two, three, five," I whisper. Each one getting louder. "Seven, eleven, thirteen," And louder. "Seventeen, nineteen, twenty three," I can feel my heart beating. "Twenty nine, thirty one, thirty seven," the numbers and beats getting louder and faster with each. "Fourty-one-fourty-three-fourty-seven-fifty-three-fifty-nine-sixty-one -" Someone shouts, it faintly registers somewhere, but I block it out. "Sixty-seven-seventy-one-seventy-three-seventy-nine-eighty-three-eighty-nine – ”
By Miriam H. Culy 3 years ago in Fiction
Sharing is Caring
When on an expedition to Borneo at the age of sixteen, and having been a rather fussy eater growing up, it’s not surprising that I experienced many foods I'd never had before. To be honest, there were times I struggled with the new cuisine - and I never quite got the hang of having noodles for breakfast. But there were some real joys in experiencing the new foods I encountered there.
By Miriam H. Culy 3 years ago in Feast
Follow the Bluebells
I blink. And again. My eyelids flutter open. Shut. The light is blinding as I open them fully this time. Colours merge as I get my bearings. Red. Black. Grey. I clamber out from my hiding spot. No one found me here. My parents said they’d catch me up, to go here and wait for them. But the noise has stopped. They never came.
By Miriam H. Culy 3 years ago in Fiction