On Eagles' Wings

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Bridge (December) BRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr. BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Brrrrrr-brrrr-brrrr. A million tiny pins were poking me in the eyes and I just didn’t want to open them and risk…more tiny pins poking me in the eyes. But the doorbell wouldn’t stop ringing. With much effort, I managed to sit up, eyes still shut. My head was pounding like the bass beat at the club last night playing Oppa Gangnam Style. But it could also be the pounding on my door at the moment. A muffled: “Dad? Daddddddd. Wake up, Dad!” The nausea returned. Oh my god. What time was it? I stood up too quickly and almost blacked out from the vertigo. When my vision stabilized, I realized my apartment looked like a hurricane had gone through it and left all the debris behind. I guess I’d gone a little too crazy with the boys last night after our clubbing and chicks-I-could-totally-bang session back at my place. Resigned, I went

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Comedy (October) XXX Univeresty Asignement 3: Essy Marks: 50 Someone I Admierer By Li Yan There are many poeple in this world. Some people are good people, but some people are the bad people. Good people is good for the world. They is make the world good. But the bad people always making the world bad. always got the fight and killing and cut the queue. I think that the bad people is bad and not good in the world. On the other hand, more and more good people should become, so world is more good. One people is the someone I admier, she is my teachr. There have three reason I like she: beatifull, clever and good. My teacher techer she name is Miss Ling. She is very beatiful. She is most beatidful techer in the world. She eyes round and big. Like a moon. She got a small nose too. Small nose is very cut. She also have a face. She face is magic. I see she face, I smil smell. She smell, I also can smell. She

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Summer (September) Bonus words: chewing gum , ice bucket I stood naked on the beach, everyone staring, laughing, pointing. Or at least it felt that way. I don’t know how I let my idiotic friend convince me that swim briefs were the way to get chicks. “Bro, chicks dig the banana sling, bro. Easier for them to assess , if you know what I mean,” he winked at me. That lame-ass response and wink (who still winks, between dudes no less?!?!) would have been a warning foghorn if I weren’t so desperate. And then that lying two-faced bastard had worn swim shorts. “You….look…. fabulous , bro. Real fab!” He’d greeted me, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Which didn’t last long because, in the next moment his face was buried in the hot sand as I tackled him and punched—as hard as I could—where it would hurt him the most. He groaned so loudly, the people around us turned to look. I ignored his whimpers as I stood up

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Name (August) Bonus words: mustard, asylum Paradise. Her name was Paradise. Indeed, what a beautiful name , he thought. He closed his eyes and he could vividly see her wavy brown locks, the stray strands caught on her moist ruby red lips, her porcelain alabaster skin. It couldn’t have been a chance encounter. Of all the coffee delivery girls at all the branches of Coffee R Us , it had to be her. Of all the offices in the building, it had to be his . And of the sixty-odd interns at his office, the one with coffee duty today, of all days, had to be him . He hated coffee duty, because getting coffee for his coffee-crazed superiors was really, he felt, an opportunity. An opportunity to screw up and get yelled at, with your face covered in superior spittle, for the entire department to watch in glee—until it was their turn. So far, since his six months here, this was his second time on coffee duty, and he hadn’t

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Paradox (July) 911 911!!!! ‘Sup babe? I need help! It’s an emergency!!! Get over here, STAT!!!!! Ok. On my way. I wanted to take my time, going over to Christy’s place. She tends to be…overly dramatic, sometimes. But then again, I didn’t want to be responsible if it were really some emergency. Granted, it probably wouldn’t be her house burning down, or an axe murderer breaking down her front door, but…you can never be sure with Christy. I sped through a yellow light, hastily overtook a white Peugeot whose driver actually rolled down the window to angrily wave a bright yellow steering lock at me, and finally arrived in front of Christy’s small single-storey terrace in record time, accidentally knocking over a trash bin, spilling its contents—last night’s dinner debris and, oddly, a deflated football. Half-running, half-jogging, I went up to her door and rang the doorbell. Christy appeared at t

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Mirror (June) Her eyelids fluttered open, kissed by the sunlight streaming through the windows. Beside her, he stirred, and she turned towards him, her lips barely brushing his day-old stubble. She blew gently on his neck, and she was amused to see his eyebrows furrow. “You awake, darling?” His voice was hoarse. And sexy. She wrapped her arm around his belly in response, and slipped her hand underneath him. She could almost feel his smile, as he planted a kiss atop her head. “Breakfast?” She spoke into his chest. “I’ll ring for it,” he said, but didn’t move. She sat up and stretched, lifting her arms high above her and exposing her naked breasts, as big as pomegranates, as the covers slipped from her shoulders. She watched him watch her, his eyes travelling from her heart-shaped face, to her delicate neck, her small shoulders, taut stomach and tiny waist, the rest concealed by the sheets. And she glowed, like the p

I actually wrote this short story a long time ago, in 2008, and it was published in Write Out Loud: a series of original contemporary writings, by Oak Publication, with editor Karen Ann Theseira, retailed at RM29.90 in MPH, though they no longer print them :p It is one of the reasons why I never gave up on writing. I must be doing  something  right, isn't it? ;) Enjoy! :D **** THE PRIZE by Lisa Kwan             “Good morning. Welcome to Brittany’s Beauty Shop. How may I help you?” chirped a young bespectacled girl. A tall, slim woman wearing a red suit stood in front of the counter.             “I’d like a manicure and pedicure, please.”             “Wonderful. If you’ll just write your name and address in our guest book here, you’ll be right on your way to a relaxing time at Brittany’s Beauty Shop,” she said, still in a chirpy voice.             The woman took the pen handed to her and signed her name. She was certainly an elegant woman, well dressed w