TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY
Bio
When I was a child, I would wake up in the night because of nightmares. As time went on, I realized that I was looking forward to my dreams. Now, I write them, among other stories as well.....
Stories (38)
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The Dead Planet
I was at school and only seven years old when I wrote this story, my first ‘essay’ at school, after having just learned the alphabet and how to read and write. I even did my own artwork cover. It was a red planet in a starry night sky. At that age, I don’t even know how I was aware of space and other planets. Perhaps a teacher spoke of our constellation, I know we had lessons in later classes, but I don’t remember lessons on space at or before seven years of age. Perhaps I’d seen comic books, maybe I heard other people speak of the planets. The teacher was impressed and put my book on show in the main foyer. It went missing while on display, and I don’t remember every word that I wrote at the time, but I remember the story, so I am now attempting to write about The Dead Planet once more…
By TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY2 years ago in Writers
Cinder Ella
Cinder Ella It was good to get out of the house – I started hanging around the staff when father died because my step-mother and step-sisters no longer even attempted to be civil to me anymore – but my step-mother was spending everything my father and his ancestors had worked so hard for so it wasn’t long before she was firing the staff and it was just as well that I’d spent so much time with them, because it became my duty in life to cook, clean and serve her and her daughters…
By TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY2 years ago in Fiction
Mahuika's Revenge
Readers, it is best to first read my story: ‘From Out of the Darkness’ “Stay away from me, Tanemahuta!” Mahuika hated what her brother had done, “I will never forgive you for making us play that horrid, stupid game which separated our parents, changing our lovely existence with our loving parents…”
By TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY3 years ago in Fiction
READY
I have heard others speak of ‘their purpose in life’ – up until this dream, I had never known mine… READY A chill went down my spine. I opened my eyes and peered in the darkness. He was there. Still the same, he had not aged, not too tall, but muscular. Still medium sized, but powerful looking. Still strikingly handsome, but as always, unsmiling - his usual unhappy demeanor - almost scowling. Always making me wonder what I have done, or am not doing more likely, to displease him so.
By TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY3 years ago in Fiction
DIFFERENT
DIFFERENT A PAST LIFE I was sitting on the beach, as always, watching other children playing – running around, in and out of the wet area, trying not to get caught by the incoming waves, and laughing if they did so. They never invited me to join them. I knew that there was something different about me, I wasn’t sure what it was, just that there was something about me that they did not like – over the years, I got used to it, being different, being alone, the watcher – still, one learned a lot, just by watching…
By TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY3 years ago in History
On the Wings of Birds
AFTER Hinewai was packing, Tania helping, both feeling so excited at the thought of returning to their lives on the other side of the desert and lake, and Kahu – it took awhile, but Kahu had built a new village – not out of the ruins, but closer to the great Lake Taupo, amidst even more precarious, volcanic steaming eruptions – his people were used to the rumbles and the continual thermal activity, they knew where to build and where not to, they knew where to step and where not to, they knew when to get into hot springs and recognized the signs and knew when to get out, before the water reached boiling point, they knew which areas to avoid, and which areas were calmer than they appeared to be. Even the horses knew which areas were dangerous and which were not, so long had the Te Arawa lived in the wild terrain. Rebuilding and helping what was left of his people had kept him too busy to feel too lonely, except when he retired for the night, when he was so tired that the fleeting thoughts of missing his wife barely began before he was snoring, and his dreams were always the same…
By TANIKA SMITH WHEATLEY3 years ago in Fiction
