tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47009854524242071682024-03-05T12:23:15.932+08:00On Eagles' WingsEven the sky is not the limitLizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.comBlogger300125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-18927824903034995192023-03-20T23:29:00.006+08:002023-03-20T23:31:37.787+08:00Z<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">After staring at the webpage, unblinking, for the past few minutes, it’s now entirely a blur. I blink, and the small box in the corner seemed to dance in front of my eyes, inviting.<br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I take a deep breath, and release it with a hiss between my teeth. I swallow. <i>What do I have to lose?<br /></i></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Finally, I click on the box, and it pops up.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Hi, there. I’m Z. What should I call you?<br /></span></span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>Hi, Z. I’m Celine.<br /></i></b></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>Hi, Celine. How can I help you today?<br /></b></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I pause for a moment, wondering if I should tell this stranger the truth. Something feels like it’s stuck in my throat, and I try desperately to clear it, unsuccessfully.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Can we just chat?<br /></i></b></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Sure, Celine. I understand. We can chat about anything you’d like. Well, how was your day?<br /></span></span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">My day? It’s been a tough one, that’s for sure. In fact, it’s been a tough week. </span></i><span lang="EN-GB">I scratch the top of my head, try to untie a knot I discovered in my hair, and give up.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>It was okay, I guess. Not so good.<br /></i></b></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Why’s that?<br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I have a difficult boss.<br /></span></span></i></b><b><i><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></i></b><b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Dealing with a difficult boss can be challenging and stressful. Why do you find your boss difficult to work with?<br /></span></span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Both my hands reach for my temples, and rub them. <i>How do I say this?<br /></i></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>She doesn't like me. So, everything I do is wrong.<br /></i></b></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I can see that Z is formulating a response, and is taking some time.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="EN-GB">I'm sorry to hear that your boss doesn't seem to have a positive opinion of you. It can be tough to work in a situation where you feel like your efforts are not appreciated or recognized.</span></b><span lang="EN-GB"> </span><b><span lang="EN-GB">But, remember: You deserve to work in an environment where you feel valued and respected. If you've tried everything and still find that you're not able to work well with your boss, you may want to consider speaking to HR or looking for a new job opportunity that would be a better fit for you.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></b></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Of course, Z makes sense. I’ve been saying I wanted to quit for years. But quitting means I’ll be starting over, which seems scarier than dealing with a familiar enemy.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">This hits me. Hard. I gulp.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>Okay, Z. I’m ready to talk about it now.<br /></i></b></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Of course, I’m here to listen. Tell me about it.<br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I minimize the chat box, and stare at the previous page I’d been on. A huge wave of guilt washes over me, and I feel like I’m drowning. I can’t quite breathe.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>What have I done?<br /></i></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It never used to be like this. This bad, I mean. Or maybe it has always been? I don’t really know for sure. I wasn’t hurting anyone, and I did it to make myself feel better, like this…this rush of euphoria, like everything will be okay. Doesn’t everyone do that? Don’t we deserve to cheer ourselves up? Treat ourselves to something nice?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And there were plenty of things in my life that made me turn to this. My boss, for one. Ugh, and then my sister started asking a whole lot of questions, acting all concerned, prying into my business, which she had no right to. I didn’t need another reminder of why she was the golden child, and I was the family screw-up.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I didn’t need anyone to know about this because…it wasn’t a problem. I had it under control. I was sure I could stop any time I wanted to. After a while, I was a magician at hiding it from everyone I knew.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But all the secrecy <i>is</i> exhausting. And…I can’t explain why the rush dissipates so very quickly, and I’m left with nothing but a sense of guilt and disappointment in myself, a boulder that sits squarely on my shoulders, heavy and agonizing.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">My hand shakes a little, and I accidentally click on the previous page again. And this time, the bold red letters scream at me, piercing and decisive.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I hang my head, and a sob escapes from me. I’m absolutely terrified. <i>I can’t do this. I just can’t.<br /></i></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I tilt my head backwards, allow the tears to slide down my cheeks, and breathe in, deep. I’m posed to type something in the chat box again, prepared to rip the band aid off.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><i>Z, I’m a shopaholic, and I need help.<br /></i></b></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">A short pause that felt like eternity.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b>I’m here to help, Celine. I know it must have taken a lot of courage for you to admit that to me, and to yourself. But the first step is always the hardest. And the fact that you’ve reached out to me here in this online group means you <u>want</u> to get better. Let’s get you the support you need to get yourself back on track. You are not alone. You can do it, and we’ll do it together.<br /></b></span><b><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span></b><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I fall back in my chair, the boulder on my shoulders slowly lifting.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I can do it. And I’m not alone.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">-THE END-</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">***</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Date: 20<sup>th</sup> Mar, 2023, Mon<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Writing Prompt: Shopping Addict</span></span></span></div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-48952304764820493232023-03-14T14:23:00.002+08:002023-03-14T14:25:00.042+08:00Dancing Shoes<p></p><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Date: 14<sup>th</sup>
Mar, 2023, Tue<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Writing Prompt: Dancing
Shoes<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">***<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The attic smells
of damp, and nostalgia. There’s a window on the far end, but the sunlight is mostly
obstructed by an old wardrobe that looks quite apologetic, its doors bent, and
its hinges exposed. So, Lynn turns on the light, the brightness revealing just
how much of a mess it is, and gingerly makes her way through the minefield of
boxes, tables, and knick-knacks.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn knew her
grandmother, whom she called Gran, pretty well, and knowing her, she’d have
chucked all the things that were oldest the furthest in, and then just slowly
piled on the rest as they came. Her Gran wasn’t the most organized person,
obviously, but she has to admit, it <i>is</i> a legit method of organization.
It at least gives her an idea where to first look for what she’s searching for.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She pushes some
stacked chairs aside, and after a moment’s hesitation, hops over a large wooden
chest, one that looks like a pirate’s, like it could possibly hold treasure.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Gran had moved
into the house sometime in the early 50s, after marrying her Grandpa. And for
such a house, it was a pretty big deal then, in the 50s. Grandpa was about 10
years older than Gran, and already had a pretty established business, transporting
goods. But it also meant that he had to travel a lot, and so Gran was left to
her own devices most of the time.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn knew her Gran
to be a really industrious woman. While Grandpa was away, she had taken care of
the house, taken up some teaching jobs, and raised seven kids. And even after
Grandpa died, she had continued on, strong and unwavering.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn reaches a
section of the attic, right in the corner on the other side, that she feels is a
good place to start. She randomly picks one of the medium-sized boxes, and blows
away the dust, causing her to cough quite forcefully. She wipes away the resulting
tears, and opens the lid, quickly sifts through the items. Random bakeware. Doesn’t
seem likely it’s here.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Her Gran did
love to cook though. Lynn remembers spending quite a few holidays baking in her
Gran’s kitchen downstairs. From when she was a little girl, all the way till
before she left for university. They’d started off with simple cookies, and
eventually progressed to complicated ones like macarons, and souffles.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Well, looking
back, maybe it was the eating, and the time spent laughing together they’d
enjoyed, more than the baking.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But they hadn’t
done that in a while though, especially since she’d started working. Maybe the
last time they’d baked something together was during her last semester break. There
was always just so much to do, so little time. And there were new friends, old
friends, even several boyfriends that had demanded her attention. But now, the
regret is bitter in her mouth.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn pries open
another box, this time filled with plastic spoons and forks. An entire box full
of disposable utensils? <i>Why, Gran?</i> she chortles. Such a hoarder. She closes
it, not even bothering to look further, assuming what she’s searching for can’t
possibly be here.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">On the top of a
chest of drawers, she spies a hard tiffany-blue cardboard box, tied with a dark
blue satin ribbon, and she instinctively knew—she’s found it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She takes it
down with her as she settles on the cold parquet floor, and places it carefully
in her lap. She takes her time to remove the ribbon, and when she finally lifts
the lid of the box, she gasps.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Lynnie,” her
Gran had used to call her. “Yeah, Gran?”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“You <i>have</i>
to do it, you know? You just have to.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“I want to, I
do. But… It’s not so simple.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Is it something
you want? You love?”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn was silent,
her eyes downcast. She nodded her head.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Then it <i>is </i>that
simple.”<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“But… What about
Mum and Dad? They’re not going to be happy about it. Maybe I should just take
up Accounting, like what they want.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Gran took Lynn’s
hand, kissed it, and rubbed her thumbs over the back of it slowly, in circles.
Quietly, she said, “No.”<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“No?”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“I won’t let
you.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn smiles as
she remembers this. Her Gran had been true to her word. She hadn’t let her.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She looks down
at the exquisite ballet shoes, nestled in soft white chiffon paper, its color faded—once
pink, now almost nude. She traces the sides of the wings down to the pleats and
platform with her finger, flips it over to touch the worn-out soles, and twirls
the ankle ribbons around her hands. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She imagines her
Gran, as she has seen in black-and-white photos, dancing, her hair up in a
tight bun, her feet en pointe, her body a graceful swan.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She sees Gran’s tear-streamed
face, filled with utter joy and pride, as she sat in the front row of the first
sold-out production of her very own dance academy, after years of struggling.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“You’re a
dancer, like me. You <i>have</i> to dance.” Gran had winked, then kissed her
cheek. “You can’t do anything else.”</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn carefully sets
the precious ballet shoes back in the chiffon paper, and tucks the ribbons in neatly
before closing the box.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She lifts it,
and hugs it tightly to her chest, her arms criss-crossed. Inevitably, the tears
flow despite her eyes being squeezed shut.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“We’re dancers
at heart, Gran, you and me,” Lynn whispers, her mouth curving into a grin. “Thank
you.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She gets up, and
dusts off the back of her jeans with one hand as she clasps the shoe box with
the other. Suddenly feeling inspired, knowing that her Gran is probably
watching her even right now, she pirouettes twice, and almost falls over the
large pirate’s chest.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Lynn bursts into
laughter. And she knows, her Gran is laughing right with her.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">-THE END-</span></span></div>
<p></p>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-56663453992077853242023-03-13T10:57:00.001+08:002023-03-13T10:58:41.770+08:00Alarm Clock<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Date: 13<sup>th</sup>
Mar, 2023, Mon<br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Writing Prompt: Alarm
Clock<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">***<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It’s an ugly
thing, for sure. Somebody gave it to me as a gift, probably someone cheap. Was
it for a birthday? I can’t remember. I wouldn’t have used it if my old one
hadn’t been broken, coincidentally.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It’s a digital
one. Super plain. Just a rectangular face, black all over, with brightly lit
red numbering. Boring.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I never thought
much about it, just used it out of necessity. But tomorrow, it’s super important
that I wake up on time. So, I’m setting the alarm, and I’ll try to get some
sleep.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">12:10AM<br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Serves me right
for watching that series just before bedtime, the one called <i>You</i>. Part 2
was just out, and I couldn’t resist. I knew it was going to mess with my head. It’s
so dark and twisted. But I couldn’t help it. What is it about these psychopathic
serial killers that is just so entertaining to watch?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I wish <i>I</i>
could have just killed all the people who tortured me, especially the ones when
I was growing up. They were jerks and bullies. Why can’t people just leave
other people alone? I initially got in trouble because I would wear what I
wanted, and they didn’t like it. I tried to stand up for myself, you know, on
principle, but there’s only so much toilet dunking one can take.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Eventually, I
just wore what everyone else felt was suitable for me to wear. To lay low. I
thought, if I could just survive high school, that would be great.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But the abuse I
endured? Those are permanent scars, indelible, the kind you cannot see.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">2:37AM<br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Those red numbers
are taunting me now. When it’s so important for me to get some rest, I can’t. I
don’t know if it’s because of fear, anxiety, or maybe excitement?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">So many things
running through my head, a million things a minute. It’s hard to process it
all.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I am kind of
grateful that things got just a little bit better when I started work though. Fewer
bullies. Although the biggest bully of all ended up being my boss. He and my
high school bullies? Cut from the same cloth. Close-minded, egotistical bigots,
who hate anyone who isn’t.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Thankfully, my
colleagues are kindred spirits. Sure, they’re competitive too; after all, we
work in real estate. But they don’t hate me for being me—they just hate me because
we’re rivals. That’s a step up, you know? At least they see me as equals.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">We do kind of
celebrate one another’s victories. But we also secretly hope their deals fall
through, or get stuck in escrow. Sometimes. Just kidding. But sometimes.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">We hang out
whenever we can, go to a bar, drink the night away. We work hard, but we party
hard too. And when we meet other bullies outside, they come to my defense.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I can be myself around
them, and that’s the most valuable gift they give me.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">4:13AM<br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Oh, man. I’m
panicking. Every time I look at the clock, I’m counting down the hours. How
many hours I have left before I’ve got to wake up. Maybe I dozed off a little
earlier, but there’s a throbbing in my head now. It feels like I haven’t slept
at all.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Mum’s going to
meet me there later, for emotional support. Bless you, Mum. Always been my supporter.
Ah, I forgot to remind her to get something to eat before coming. I can’t
accompany her for breakfast, I’ve got to fast before the surgery.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Maybe I’ll text
her now. Oh, wait. She’ll be all over me when she sees what time I’m texting
her. She’ll know I hardly slept.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But if I don’t
do it now, I’ll probably forget later. Fine, I’ll text her.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Okay, done. Hm, I
wonder if Dad has said anything yet. Took him a while to come around when I’d
announced to the family about the surgery. Well, technically, it’s the first of
many to come, but it’s my first step, and it’s a big one.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">To be fair, it
took <i>me</i> a while to come to this decision, so how can I blame my Dad for
needing time to come to terms with it? Sure, it’s my life, but it’s going to
affect his too. I get it. I <i>am </i>his only son.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But I have to
say, it couldn’t have been <i>that</i> much of a surprise for him, could it? My
whole life, I’d been different. I’d struggled. I’d fought within myself. It’s
been a never-ending dilemma, tormenting my very soul. I’d been suffering. My Mum
knew it. People who were close to me knew it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I guess I could
have continued to live my life the way I’d been, and life would have been
pretty okay. I’m blessed in many ways. But I wanted to live my truth. I wanted
to be the person I feel I’m meant to be. I wanted to be…free.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Free of bullies.
Free of the weird looks and glances. Free of the whispers, the rumors, the
murmurs, just for being me. Once and for all.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="EN-US">6:00AM<br /></span></b></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Okay, my alarm’s
ringing. It’s time. No point trying to get any sleep now. I’m waking up to the
rest of my life. A life where I’m finally the woman I’m meant to be.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I’ll see you on
the other side.</span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-12187098727604003822023-03-11T22:25:00.002+08:002023-03-11T22:25:07.289+08:00Cosy Nights<div style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Date: 11<sup>th</sup>
Mar, 2023, Sat<br /></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Writing Prompt: Cosy
Nights<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">***<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The fire dances,
crackling happily as it nibbles on the logs. The room is dark, except for the
light from the fireplace; it’s the old-fashioned kind, with an exposed brick
frame, and a poker standing by its side.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Megan and Zack
sit side by side, their arms touching, their feet cocooned together under a
plaid blanket, covering up to their thighs. Megan has her cup of hot chocolate
nestled between her brought-up knees, her hands hidden under long sleeves as
she cradles it while Zack has his settled on the carpet beside him. She blows
on the surface, and takes a tentative sip; the steam fogs up her glasses, but
it only takes a few seconds to clear.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The microwave
hums in the corner in the tiny kitchenette, warming up the lasagne that Megan
just loves, and Zack tolerates. But he has to admit, the smell of chicken and
cheese is tantalising, making him salivate. Just a couple more minutes.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Megan rests her
head on his left shoulder, and sighs. He leans his head on hers. They both
stare at the fire, a contented smile on their faces. Everything feels warm,
from their feet, to their stomachs, to their hearts.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“I’m so happy
we’re here,” Megan says, breaking the comfortable silence they’d had.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Yeah, me too.”
Zack places his hand over her knee, and plants a kiss atop her head.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Glad everything
worked out at work. We almost couldn’t make it, huh.” Her voice is a nervous
chuckle. He shakes his head. “Yeah. It’s been crazy at work these past few
months. But I did promise you we’d come here, where we had our first holiday
together. It’s been a while.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“No kidding. Can
you believe it’s been five years?” She turns to look at him. “Five years,
baby.” His grin is a lopsided one. “Five <i>great</i> years.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She returns to
resting on his left shoulder. It’s quiet again but for the soft roar of the
fire, and the purr of the microwave.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He thinks to
when he first saw her.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He’d gone up to
the HR department from his to submit some pesky paperwork they’d been bugging
him for. He was in a rush, and annoyed, and frankly, in a bad mood.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But when he
arrived there, he was greeted not by the grouchy Mdm Lai as he’d been in the
past, but a pretty bespectacled girl whose voice was like velvet, and whose big
bright eyes felt like they could read into his.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He’d spent the
next couple of months working up the nerve to ask her out, coming up with the
most random of excuses to go up to HR. His colleagues thought he was under
probation, or getting fired, or in trouble of some sort.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">And when she
said Yes, he was so thrilled, he treated all his colleagues to a round of
drinks he couldn’t really afford, and instantly regretted.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She complemented
him in every way, so different from his one previous long-term relationship.
Where he was nervous and anxious, she was calm and steady; where he was
insecure and lacked confidence, she was encouraging and supportive. She’d
helped him patch up his scars, have the courage to love again. She made the
fears worth it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He puts his arm
around her, and she inches closer until he could smell her long brown hair—peonies.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Where do you
see us in the next five years, baby?” She doesn’t look at him, but he can feel
her glance. “Um, what do you mean?” He clears his throat and laughs, and runs
his hand through his hair.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“What do you
mean, ‘what do you mean’? I do hope you’re thinking of us, maybe getting
married?” She pulls away, her eyebrows raised, and sets her cup down on the
carpet.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Uh-huh. Of
course.” He swallows. Those eyes of hers, staring. He scratches his neck. She
settles back down, and sighs. “It’s fine.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Fighting a
certain nagging feeling, he asks, “Where do <i>you</i> see us in five years?”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She cups her
face with her hands, leans them on her knees. “Well, I definitely see us married.
And we’ll probably need to get a place together. Both of us are renting, and
I’d always wanted a landed property. I don’t really want to raise a family in a
condo apartment.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Family?” He
gulps.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Yeah. You
mentioned that you wanted one kid, right? But I want two. A set of a boy and a
girl would be perfect, don’t you think?”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">This isn’t the
first time they’ve talked about this. Of <i>course</i>, they’ve talked
marriage, home, family; they <i>have </i>been together five years now. But
somehow, this time, his hands are clammy, and his throat closes up. <i>What’s
going on?<br /></i></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Without warning,
a face flashes in his mind. Her dark raven hair, flying in the wind; her black
twinkling eyes, laughing; her tiny mouth, saying, “I do”; her soft hands in his,
ones that he once believed he’d hold forever.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The microwave
beeps, the lasagne is done. But he suddenly can’t breathe. “I—I have to go.”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Go? Go where?”<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“I don’t know.”<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He gets up
hastily, the blanket sliding off, and knocks over his cup, now cold chocolate
pooling and disappearing into the carpet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Her eyes are
wide like saucers, her mouth agape. Her hands stretch out towards him, but
instead, he backs away.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He grabs the car
keys from the bowl in the entryway, flings open the door to reveal the pouring
rain.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Zack, wait—”<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But he hears a
different ‘Zack’, another voice, another time, haunting. He shuts the door
behind him, immediately getting drenched, and almost slips as he hurriedly
takes the steps down towards the car.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">He makes it into
the car, his hair dripping water, stinging his eyes. As he turns on the
headlights, he sees her at the door, her face illuminated. The confusion, the
hurt, stabs him.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">But he takes a
breath, and starts the engine, backs the car out. He takes one last look at her.
<i>I can’t. I’m sorry</i>. He drives away, leaving exhaust and agony in the air.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">-THE END-</span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-12221964642862308742023-03-07T23:25:00.003+08:002023-03-07T23:25:15.973+08:00Refreshed<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> Date: 7<sup>th</sup>
Mar, 2023, Tue</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Writing Prompt: Refreshed<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">***<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i><span lang="EN-US">Ah.
Lavender. Lemongrass. Jasmine. They smell absolutely divine</span></i><span lang="EN-US">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I close my eyes,
and breathe in the scents. I feel them enter my nostrils, and somehow fill my
entire body, like a large warm comforter, enveloping me in calm, my body turning
to jelly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">As I inhale
deeply, lying flat on my stomach, in the background, I hear the tinkle of chimes,
melodious xylophones, even the soft rattle of the <i>angklung</i>, reminding me
of that crazy trip to Bali with my girlfriends for graduation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">For the first
time then, I had let loose, and it was the best time of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I had paid for
it when I came back though, when he found out, but it was worth it. Just like I
will probably pay for this later today. I push the thought aside, and let out a
breath I am not aware I’m holding. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">A few minutes
pass. I feel utterly relaxed, and laugh to myself, thinking, <i>At this point,
they could do anything to me, and I’d not even fight it.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Someone comes in.
I hear the soft shuffle of the slippers into the room. “I’m going to start soon,
ma’am.” The woman’s voice is young, like a girl’s, and I am tempted to peek.
But I don’t. “Mm,” I respond, slipping off again into my cloud of calm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">There’s a burst
of lemongrass, and I hear a small slush of oil, hands rubbing together, and then
immediately after, warmth spreads across my back. “Mm,” I sigh. Wave upon wave
of calming pleasure break upon my body, starting with the backs of my shoulders,
my neck, then down my spine, right down to just above my buttocks, the rest still
covered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Oh, you’re good,”
I say to the woman. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Her voice is
sweet. And I wonder more about the woman whose magic hands feel like they are
taking me to another world, and I’m not really here. <i>Is this what a massage
feels like? Why have I never gotten one before?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Actually, I know
exactly why, but I ignore the thought. Instead, I ask, “So, how long have you
been doing this?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">It is quiet, and
I mentally scold myself. <i>Maybe she doesn’t speak much English.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Ten years.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Ten years? That’s
a long time! But you sound so young!” I don’t resist turning around to look at the
woman this time, and when I do, I am surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I am not
mistaken the first time—she is certainly young, in her 20s. Her dark brown hair
is tied up in a bun atop her head, with only several misbehaving strands
curling down to her neck. But her eyes, though gentle, bear a kind of sadness. I
can’t really put my finger on it; I can’t even explain how I know that. The
woman smiles, pumps more massage oil into her hands, and rubs them together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Ma’am, shall we
continue?” She cocks her eyebrow, as if amused, as if this happened all the
time, people being surprised at how young she is.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I return to my
position, rest my face on its side, facing my left. There’s warmth on my back
again. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” I feel I’m going to be
surprised yet again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“I’m twenty
five.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Twenty five?
That means when you started working, you were…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Yes, fifteen.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“Wow. How did
you—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The young woman interrupts
with her laugh, a chuckle, more like. “Okay, ma’am. I tell you story. Not to
worry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I blush. “I’m so
sorry if I’m prying. I just—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">The woman’s
hands pause on my shoulders. “I have boyfriend. Long time ago. He is a bad
person. Very bad person. He beat me a lot when he angry. Then I get pregnant
when I am fourteen years old. My boyfriend and me, we get married. But it is
bad decision. He asks me to get rid of baby.” Her voice is even, almost monotonous.
And her hands glide over my lower back. She pushes the cloth covering aside,
and starts working on my calves. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">“But I choose to
leave my boyfriend, to have baby. A little girl. We move far away. She is ten
years old now. Back in Manila. My friend take good care of her, take the money
I make here, and buy her food, and clothes, and school things.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Her thumbs press
down around my ankles, going round in circles, alternating, swift and smooth. Her
voice too, is smooth; it glides over me, but grabs hold of my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">So many questions
run through my mind. <i>What happened to the boyfriend? Does he know about their
daughter? How did she get started working here? When will she go back?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Instead, I
whisper, “Was it difficult?” I realize how vague the question is. But I think
of her first step that changed everything—deciding to leave an awful toxic
relationship, start over, all while pregnant, alone, at 15 years old. If she
hadn’t done that, where would she be now?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She stops, her
hands midway up my thighs. “Yes. I very scared,” she replies, as if she had
read my mind, and then continues on pressing on the back of my thighs. “But it
was best decision I ever made.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I absorb what
she says. She asks me to flip over, and as I do, she takes the cloth covering,
and in one rapid movement, covers my top half, but not before she notices the large
dark blue-black marks on my chest, still healing, and she stills. I see her
purse her lips.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">She stares at
me, and I look away. When she still doesn’t move, I look back, and her eyes
have softened. “Best decision I ever made,” she whispers, every word a wisp of
hope.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">We finish the
rest of the session in silence, and I leave without another word to her
although I give her a very slight nod at the cashier’s, before she smiles and
moves on to her next client.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I exit the doors
into the blinding brightness of the mall. Compared to the dimness of the inside
of the spa, these lights are stabbing. I blink quickly several times to adjust,
until I almost teared.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i><span lang="EN-US">Best
decision I ever made.</span></i><span lang="EN-US"> Her words echo in my head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I take out my
phone, my hands trembling. I know I need to do this. I’ve known for a while. I just
need the courage to do it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i><span lang="EN-US">-Jer,
I’m leaving you.-</span></i><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">That’s all I say.
It isn’t much. But it’s a start. And I know, it had to be more than
happenstance meeting that young woman today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I take a deep
breath, and feel…strangely refreshed. Maybe it’s the massage. Maybe, with the
text I’d just sent, it’s the weight that’s been lifted off my now very-relaxed
shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I grin, stretch
my arms out and up above me as high as they can go. <i>Best massage ever!</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">-THE END-</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">(C) Copyright Lisa Kwan 2023</span></p>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-55541792904250515682023-03-07T00:26:00.004+08:002023-03-07T16:44:57.657+08:00Last Person<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Date: 6th Mar, 2023, Mon</span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Writing Prompt: Last Person<br /><br />***<br /><br />Traffic jam. Again.<br /><br />A super loud honk from the car ahead pierced my eardrums, sending a shooting pain through my skull. <i>What now?</i> I wondered, but wasn’t entirely invested in it. The driver in front must have been dreaming, or more likely texting on the phone, and not moved when he (or she) was supposed to. Not that I’ve…never done that myself before.<br /><br />I stared at the red lights in between the swipes of the windshield wipers until they became blurry, then rubbed my hands down my face. It’s been a really long day at the office, and I thought I could have avoided the jam by leaving late. But of course, it had to rain, and there had to be an accident along the route home… So here I am. <br /><br />I could feel my eyelids fluttering closed, and I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Just hang on till we get home, I thought. Then a quick hot shower and bed, before it all begins again tomorrow.<br /><br />I sighed. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it. Ma has been nagging me to come home for ages. And it’s not like I stay on the other side of the country. KL and Seremban isn’t that far, really. Many even commute daily to and fro.<br /><br />Another sharp honk made me yell out in frustration. ARGH. This, this is why I can’t do the daily commute. I’d kill myself. As it is, getting back to my condo in PJ that’s supposedly 20 minutes away is already taking me ages. Can you imagine travelling back to Seremban each time?<br /><br />So I stay. And I work. Focus on my career. Everyone knows working in a law office is no joke. And as they say, when you’re young, and still building your career, you’ve got to pay your dues, no two ways about it.<br /><br />That meant long hours, no sleep, no proper food. Filing and reporting, running to the courts, documentation, interviews, client meetings, and a lot of coffee. Oh, man. A LOT of coffee. If it wasn’t impossible, I’d have coffee flowing through my veins by now.<br /><br />And Pa, on the other hand, is bugging me about getting a girlfriend. Like, really? Who has the time? I shook my head, put my car into gear, and move several inches ahead to put it back into neutral again. <i>God, when is this traffic going to clear?</i><br /><br />My phone ringing on the dashboard startled me. Oh, God. Please let it not be the boss. Please. And if it was, it wouldn’t be the first time I had to make a U-turn and head back to the office for some last-minute urgent all-nighter. I took a deep breath.<br /><br />But it wasn’t the boss. It was someone I hadn’t spoken to in a really long time. So long, in fact, I didn’t know how to pick up the call.<br /><br />“Uh, hi-lo?” I cringed. I’d started off wanting to say, Hi, and then changed my mind midway to Hello. What an idiot.<br /><br />Silence on the other end. Okay, a chance at redemption.<br /><br />“Hello? Jian? You there?” I looked down at my phone to check if the call was still on, and I had a signal. Digi coverage sometimes, I tell you.<br /><br />“Gor?”<br /><br />That one word had me stunned. He hadn’t called me <i>gor gor</i>, or big brother, in a long while.<br /><br />“Um, yeah?” I cleared my throat, waiting for him to continue. I really had no idea why he was calling me out of the blue after not having spoken to me for so long.<br /><br />We’d had a huge argument just before I’d left for my apprenticeship in KL. Something stupid, I’m sure. But I barely remember. He’d yelled at me, I’d yelled at him. He’d slammed the door, I’d kicked it. <br /><br />Mind you, this was nothing out of the ordinary for me and my brother. We’d always had a hard time getting along. Just…never connected with him. And an age gap of 6 years didn’t help. He had always been a brat, the tattletale that would get me in trouble all the time. We had different interests, different circles, different lives.<br /><br />So when I left for KL, I didn’t look back. I mean, I was overwhelmed and swallowed up by the demands of my work too, of course. But I also didn’t really care. The few occasions that I did go home, we both very easily avoided each other. My family was not the type to have meals together anyway. We were just strangers who lived in the same house. <br /><br />Initially, there was mostly anger. Probably residues from the last fight we had. But over time, it just became less and less uncomfortable, not talking, until there wasn’t much feeling left. It felt weird to bring it up anymore, and so we didn’t. I had no need to talk to him, and neither did he. It stressed my parents out, but they didn’t have much say. They knew they couldn’t force either of us to do anything. And so, it was left to be.<br /><br />It's been four years. And now, I’m getting a call? From him?<br /><br />“How are you, Gor? It’s…been a long time.”<br /><br />Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Maybe it’s the fact that I know I’d have been the last person in the world he would have wanted to call. But it felt like…he needed me. For once, my little brother needed me.<br /><br />I inhaled. “Okay. Talk to me. What’s up?” And somehow, I could hear him smile on the other end.<br /><br />-THE END-</span><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br />(C) Copyright Lisa Kwan 2023<br /><span class="xv78j7m" spellcheck="false">#LizsStoryChallenge</span></span></div>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-13164313113704280572023-03-07T00:23:00.004+08:002023-03-07T16:44:10.039+08:00Coffee or Tea<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Date: 5th Mar, 2023, Sun</span></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Writing Prompt: Coffee or Tea<br /><br />***<br /><br />She was sitting by the window as she always did. Somehow, the seat there was always available when she stopped by. The drink menu was open before her, her eyes on it, but she wasn’t seeing the words.<br /><br />There was a sudden waft of freshly baked pastries, croissants, it seems, and she was very tempted to get them. But she’d told herself, no tidbits, just a drink today. Even though she was hungry, she didn’t think it would be a good idea to eat anything that might mess up her lipstick. She wanted her lips to pop, draw in, entice.<br /><br />There was a ping on her phone, and she looked at it. Nick had texted her. “Free for a drink?” it said. “I was hoping to talk to you.”<br /><br />She sighed. She knew what it was going to be about. But, to be frank, she wasn’t really interested. She hadn’t been interested the last time, and things hadn’t really changed since. She wanted desperately for him to understand that, but he just didn’t.<br /><br />Some may admire his persistence, but after a while, she mostly felt…indifferent. She’d been honest, direct, but he chose to persist instead, knowing full well she will never feel any differently. Let’s just say, she felt like she’d done her part. And this was the best she could do without cutting him off completely as a friend. And she still cared for him as a friend, of course.<br /><br />A waitress bumped into the edge of her table, startled her. “Sorry!” she waved, and rushed over to the customer at the next table, who had his eyebrows in a furrow already. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the waitress nodding her head in apology.<br /><br />She looked out the window, and saw a young couple pass by. They were both laughing, she with her head thrown back. And right in front of her eyes, they shared a kiss. A long lingering passionate one too, one that made people around uncomfortable, and have to avert their gaze.<br /><br />She’d always envied that kind of passion. The kinds in movies. She’d had one long-term relationship that had ended up being a sore disappointment. It had been safe, ordinary, and boring, and had ultimately felt like a waste of her prime years.<br /><br />She thought of Rob from work. Rob from work had dark wavy hair that she wanted to run her hands through. Rob from work could make her giggle like a schoolgirl. Rob from work had the brightest, most twinkly eyes. And Rob from work was, unfortunately, married.<br /><br />But she couldn’t stop thinking about Rob from work.<br /><br />Another ping on her phone, and she heaved a deep sigh as she saw the name Nick again. Oh, Nick. Nick had dark wavy hair too. Nick could be considered funny; he had his own brand of dry humour. Nick had kind brown eyes, always looking to her with hope. And Nick was so, so available; he’d made that plenty clear.<br /><br />But Nick was just a friend. <br /><br />The same waitress who’d bumped into her table now came by hers. “So sorry for the delay. We’re kinda swamped. Our other girl just called in sick, so it’s just me handling orders today.”<br /><br />“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m waiting for someone. Maybe later?”<br /><br />“Ah, sure. I’ll come back in a bit.” She practically flew to another table, where another young lady was waiting.<br /><br />She looked out the window again, wondering if he was going to be coming soon, debating whether she had time to make a quick run to the washroom to touch up on her make up. She hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, but you know, just in case. Make sure her lips still popped. She’d chosen that rose red shade for a reason. “Kissable”, the packaging had said. And that’s what she wanted him to see.<br /><br />“Hey.” The voice was deep, a little husky, like he’d just woken up, sexy. She turned to face him, smiling, intentionally biting just a bit of her lower lip. “Hey,” she replied.<br /><br />Rob sat down opposite her. “Hope you didn’t have to wait too long. You look fantastic, by the way.” He smiled, his dimples showed, and she sucked in her breath.<br /><br />“Not at all,” she managed to say, as she watched him swiftly flip open the menu, then place his hand near his mouth. That mouth. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him.<br /><br />“Since I kept you waiting, this one has to be on me. And maybe…dinner sometime too?” he raised his eyebrow, eyes twinkling, almost mischievously. She bit her lip again, slowly, intentionally. <i>Kissable,</i> she thought.<br /><br />“Well, if you insist.” She smiles, and looks down. His foot had stretched out from under the table opposite her, and was almost touching hers.<br /><br />The waitress popped up again, like magic. “Hey! I’m back! Let’s take your order. Coffee or tea?” she chirped.<br /><br />Coffee or tea indeed, she thought. Which should she choose? Another ping from Nick, and this time, Rob’s foot very lightly trails up her ankle.<br /><br />She looks up at Rob, smiles, and leans forward. “Whatever he’s having. I’m in.”<br /><br />-THE END-<br /><br />(C) Copyright Lisa Kwan 2023<br /><br />***<br /><br />If you've made it this far, hi. I used to write short stories, but hadn't written one in years. Thought I'd take the chance now during my confinement to challenge myself to write one short story a day (but lenient lar, ok. I still tengah pantang and breastfeeding 🤭).<br /><br />I'll get a writing prompt from a random generator, and then write whatever comes to mind. Just to get the juices flowing once again.<br /><br />Feel free to read, enjoy, comment. Would love to hear from you too. <3<br /><br /><span class="xv78j7m" spellcheck="false">#LizsStoryChallenge</span></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-19513040186615077502019-11-02T18:05:00.000+08:002019-11-02T18:05:19.950+08:00Tap<i>by Lisa Kwan</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>***</i><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The crying. Non-stop crying. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where is she?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn realizes she’s in an empty room. It
isn’t any room she is familiar with though; there are no walls, no windows,
just nothing. But she hears the crying. Her heart is pounding, and cold sweat
forms on her forehead, in her palms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Suddenly, she sees her. She’s there, in a
corner of the room, if there were a corner. A small bundle, completely wrapped
in swaddling cloth, dark, unmoving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The crying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn moves forward, slides to her knees
beside her, absolutely terrified to pick her up. She leans in, but hesitates.
She wonders why. Guilt creeps in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The crying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She lifts her up, and the crying intensifies. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What’s wrong? </i>She hastily unwraps the
cloth from her covered face. She pulls the last of the folds of cloth free to
reveal her baby...with her eyes gouged out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She screams as she drops the bundle, and
watches in paralyzed horror as long slimy dark tentacles snake out where the
baby’s arms and legs should have been, and as they creep up her legs, grip her
abdomen, slide around her shoulders, and clutch her neck, tightening their
grip. They draw her closer, closer to face the eyeless face, its mouth now
rounded in an “O”, as if surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She screams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn jolted awake. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Where am I? </i>She looked around at the messy desk, the bright orange
couch, the cabinet, the fake potted plant near the virtual window that was
indicating a very bright morning. The large numbers on the wall showed 10:03AM.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Her body felt like it’d been crushed by an
anvil, very much like the one in that old, almost ancient cartoon with the
coyote--what was it called again?--and she was emerging from a similar cloud of
dust. The shooting pain in the left side of her head had resumed, and she could
barely move, she was so exhausted. She attempted to adjust how she was sitting,
groaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">It was then that she noticed quite a number of
eyes peering at her over their virtual screens through the transparent walls,
feigning ignorance, but betraying nosiness. She swiftly waved her hand, and the
walls became opaque, emitting a soft glow. She bit her lip, appalled by what
the others must have seen, or worse, heard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">A petite bespectacled female assistant
appeared, her eyebrows in a furrow. “Ms Abedeen,” she started, but then she
disappeared and instantaneously reappeared with a glass. “Have some,” she
offered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn stared at the glass as if it were
completely alien to her. Eventually, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with
the back of her hand, and took the glass and drained its contents. The
effervescence was both soothing and calming, and her shoulders relaxed.
“Thanks, Triss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She nodded at Triss, gave her a small smile.
“I’m...sorry, again.” She ran her hand through her hair, which felt rather
oily. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">When was the last time she’d washed
her hair? </i>She sighed. “I’m kind of a mess.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Triss’s smile mirrored hers. “Let’s get you
ready for that meeting.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The walls of her office lit up with her
presentation, one that she’d been preparing for the past two months, ever since
she came back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">As she stared at them, she felt the familiar
prickling of cold sweat in her palms, at her temples. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why did these look foreign? </i>She knew she’d been working on them all
day yesterday. Or was that the day before? Was it Saturday? Monday? Wait, what
day is it today?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Triss reappeared. “Everything alright, Ms
Abedeen?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn swallowed. Swallowed hard. “Yes,
everything’s fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn stared, her mouth slightly agape, her
mind gears stuck, and painfully silent. The wall displaying the slide she was
on blinked, the words blurring, as if telling her, "You're on your own,
honey." She looked around at the others sitting around the conference
table helplessly. In fact, a number of them looked away, embarrassed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Ms Abedeen? You haven't answered the
question." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She opened her mouth, and closed it again.
"I-I'm sorry," she managed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Minutes later, after the haunting whoosh of
the holograms disappearing, Brendwyn slumped over on the table. Mr Melvedant
hadn't said much. Rather, he had been uncharacteristically civil and
sympathetic, which meant she was almost certainly in deep trouble. She wasn't
sure if she would come back to a job tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Her ear buzzed. She tapped on her right ear,
and sat upright, wiping off a stray tear, absentmindedly wondering if the new
eyeliner she'd purchased would streak. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Yes, Melyssa."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Brendwyn, good morning. How was your
meeting?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Melyssa, get straight to the point. I
didn't pay for you to beat around the bush. I pay for you to take care of my
house."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Sorry. Just wanted to update you that we
had a slight situation earlier in the morning. Although Aurora's fever has come
down from last night, she threw up a bit just now. I managed to calm her down
with some songs and music, and at the moment, she's sleeping. For now, I don't
think it's necessary to call the doctor yet."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn sighed. "I've told you before,
when I'm at work, you're not to disturb me with anything unless it's really
important. This is an example of something that doesn't make the top of the
list, Melyssa."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn paused. "I really don't want to
have to recall you," her voice lowered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"I understand. I just thought I'd update
you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"This didn't warrant a call," she
snapped. "Next time, just send me a FaceNote. I'll listen to it when I
have the time." Brendwyn tapped her ear again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Ms Abedeen?" Triss’s voice appeared
behind her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"What?" Brendwyn swung around to
face her.. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Private holocall from Mr
Melvedant."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn closed her eyes, pressed her
forehead. Inhaled. Exhaled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Okay, Triss. Thank you." She waved
her hand, and Triss disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She adjusted her suit jacket, and sat up so
straight until her back hurt. Plastering what she hoped was a confident yet
apologetic smile on her face, Brendwyn tapped her ear once more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Mr Melvedant appeared, seated opposite her,
his face grim. "Mr Melvedant, first off, let me--" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">But something in his face made Brendwyn stop
mid-sentence. All her fire dissipated, and instead, she stared at her clasped
hands before her, praying he wouldn't see them trembling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">It was the longest five seconds of her life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Ms Abedeen, you have been our
top-achieving executive for the past four years. But I must say that your
recent performance after a certain…recent development, has been rather
disappointing. It is one thing to make such unacceptable mistakes within the
company, but with our most important clients? Do you have any idea the damage
you've done?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"I'm sorry, Mr Melvedant, I--"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"I gave them to you because I trusted
you. I thought you could handle it. But from what I've seen today, I may be
very wrong."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn's heart broke a little. And she
fiercely fought the tears and sobs that were threatening to escape from her.
She fought once more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Mr Melvedant, I assure you, I can. Today
was a rare, I mean, a one-time thing. It will never happen again."
Brendwyn leaned forward, locking her eyes with his, willing him to give her
another chance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">His gaze faltered, and he cleared his throat.
She drew a sharp breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Please, Mr Melvedant. You have seen my
work. You know what I'm capable of. You know I can do this, no matter what the
circumstance. I'll redo the presentation. I'll speak and apologize to each of
our clients today personally. I'll fix this. Not only that, I'll make sure this
project will be our most profitable one yet, and by the end of the year, you'll
be rolling in so much money, you'd even feel like giving half to your
ex-wife." Brendwyn hoped that teeny little personal bite she'd slipped in
would work in her favour--they've known each other a long time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Mr Melvedant leaned back in his chair, and
crossed his arms. He didn't blink, and neither did she.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Finally, he nodded. Her heart leapt, then sank
to its knees in relief. "Thank you," she whispered. And he was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Ms Abedeen?" Brendwyn jumped out of
her seat. "My God, Triss. Stop scaring me! What is it?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Sorry, Ms Abedeen, but Sasukinawa <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">san</i> is on hold for you. He…wants to
speak to you about the earlier meeting."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn looked up. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Here goes</i>, she thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Just as she was about to tap on her ear, her
ear buzzed. She hesitated, and then tapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Brendwyn, Aurora's worsened. I'd given
her Acetominophen, but her fever's spiked. I've called Dr Ameella, and she
highly recommends her coming in. Would you like me to transport her, or…"
Melyssa drifted off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn sank into the chair. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Brendwyn? You there? What would you like
to do?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN">Yes,
indeed. What do I do?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She leaned back, looking up at the ceiling,
and grunted in frustration. Resigned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Melyssa, I'll be there. Just give me a
few minutes." She tapped her ear once, and tapped again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Sasukinawa <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">san</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">gomen-nasai</i>…"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn sighed as she finally arrived at the
familiar ash grey door with the tiny gold ladybug. She had always had an
inexplicable fondness for the ladybug, but staring at it this time brought no
comfort.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She stood at eye level in front of it, and the
door clicked open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Welcome home, Brendwyn," Melyssa
chimed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn stepped in, took off her jacket and
shoes, put them on the moving belt that silently swallowed them into the
recesses of her closet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"You look like you need a hot beverage.
Would you like one? We have coffee, or tea, or maybe some white pearls white
tea?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn waved Melyssa away. She headed to the
bedroom. The door slid open, and the bed rose from a platform to catch her as
she fell onto it, her right arm falling over her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Something about returning home, the solace of
her bed, unravelled everything she’d been holding together for so long, like a
loose thread. Against her will, she sobbed, tears flowing down the sides of her
face into her ears, snot filling up her nose, choking her a little. Before
long, it turned into full-on howling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Melyssa stood by, solemn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Brendwyn?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"What now, Melyssa? What now?!"
Brendwyn flung her arms out, and sat upright, the tears tickling warm in her
ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Melyssa pressed her lips together. And in the
background, muffled crying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">"Ugh!" Brendwyn groaned, stormed
through Melyssa and out of the bedroom into a smaller, tiny room. In the middle
of the room, a bare cot floated, surrounded by blue light beams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">As she soundlessly approached and moved past
them, the lights disappeared. She stood there, looking down at what lay in it.
There she was, crying so hard, her face scarlet. Her bawls were practically
ear-piercing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">In a second, Brendwyn had picked her up and
was shaking her, to which she responded by crying even louder. “Why do you
never stop crying? You’re always crying! Stop crying! JUST STOP IT!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Aurora shrieked. An alarm sounded, and red
lights flashed. Melyssa appeared. “Brendwyn, put the child down. You’re acting
in a very unsafe manner. The child may be harmed.” Her voice was soft but icy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn blinked, with Aurora still held up in
mid-air. As she collapsed to the floor, Aurora fell onto her lap and rolled off
onto the floor where she continued wailing. Melyssa wordlessly observed as
Brendwyn pulled her knees up and sobbed into them. “I can’t do this, I can’t do
this, I can’t do this…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The alarm went dead, and the red flashes
ceased. Melyssa vanished. And only the cries of a baby, and the sobs of a
broken woman, were left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">Brendwyn awoke on the floor with her back
stabbing her, and her feet numb. She had no idea how long she had been sleeping
there. She got up, and found Aurora asleep beside her, her face peaceful and
angelic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She gently lifted her off the floor, tucked
the corners of her swaddle in tightly, and placed her back in her cot, still
sleeping. Her head throbbed. The world around her spun for a moment, and she
swayed a little, held the cot to steady herself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">When the world stopped spinning, she gazed
down upon her sleeping baby. There was an ache in her heart and entire body she
could not describe, but she knew she had no choice. She exhaled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She tapped the air above the cot. A screen
materialized. She tapped on a few more buttons. The words in front of her felt
absolutely despicable. Yet, she knew this was for the best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Crushed; mso-bidi-font-family: Crushed; mso-fareast-font-family: Crushed;">RECALL THE ITEM?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Crushed; mso-bidi-font-family: Crushed; mso-fareast-font-family: Crushed;">YES<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>NO<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The words flickered there for an eternity, and
her finger was poised above them, uncertain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She tapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Crushed; mso-bidi-font-family: Crushed; mso-fareast-font-family: Crushed;">ARE YOU SURE?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Crushed; mso-bidi-font-family: Crushed; mso-fareast-font-family: Crushed;">YES<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>NO</span></b><span lang="EN"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She tapped again before she could change her
mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">The portal opened up beneath Aurora as she
slept, unknowing. Brendwyn only just managed to plant a soft kiss that barely
touched her cheek before she was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She propped her elbows up on the cot, and held
her head in her hands. She didn’t even try to stop the tears, and they fell
like rain on the spot where Aurora had been, still warm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">A tiny audible beep made her look up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Crushed; mso-bidi-font-family: Crushed; mso-fareast-font-family: Crushed;">SEND NEW ITEM?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN" style="font-family: Crushed; mso-bidi-font-family: Crushed; mso-fareast-font-family: Crushed;">YES<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>NO</span></b><span lang="EN"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She blinked quickly, pulled the words into
focus. She held her breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">She tapped once more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN">Author’s
Note: Written for the Commonwealth Short Story Competition 2019, but missed the
deadline (1st Nov, 11.59pm). Nevertheless, this is the first attempt at
something a little futuristic, but on an issue quite close to heart.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<i></i>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-20657645471128545322018-06-25T12:01:00.000+08:002018-06-25T12:01:15.297+08:00Weekly Visits<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Written for: The Writer's Tower</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Theme: Euphoria</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Weekly Visits</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I walk down
the hall, flanked by notice boards boasting of students that had won awards,
competitions, achieved straight A’s, their faces bright, innocent. I knew he
wasn’t up there, but he was as talented, smart and beautiful as any one of
them. I reach the “Congratulations on coming to school!” sign, which I scoffed
at, right outside his classroom, and knock on the open door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
teacher, Ms. Manjeet, turns around, stopped at mid-sentence, surprise on her
face. I take one step into the class and nodded. She comes towards me, and I
whisper into her ear. Her turn to nod. “Tobias, your father is here to take
you. You can gather your things and leave with him. Check with Hannah on what
you’ve missed, okay?” Tobias’ eyes were already on me, as his teacher speaks,
his eyebrows high, questioning. I made sure Ms. Manjeet doesn’t see, and then I
wink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
looks even more confused, and hesitantly turns to pack his bag behind him. In
the meantime, I thank Ms. Manjeet and wait outside the classroom, and I hear
her continue the class on Subject-Verb agreement. I get a sense of déjà vu, but
I just crack my knuckles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tobias
appears beside me, slinging the other side of his backpack over his left
shoulder. “Is everything okay?” His voice is a little shaky, and I feel bad for
scaring the poor kid. “Let’s get to the car first,” I lightly touch his
shoulder and lead him towards the car park.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What’s
going on?” he asks again, his voice hoarse. “Have you got all your things?” I
reply instead, eyes looking straight ahead, poker-faced. “Yes.” “Then, let’s
go.” He is silent. A million thoughts must be running through his head. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Is something wrong at home? Did someone die?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
we are out the school gates and the sun is shining so hard on our heads that I
have head sweat, I turn to him, finally ready to put him out of his misery.
“Toby,” I deliberately suck in my breath. He looks up at me, wordless, his eyes
a hint of panic. “I have something to tell you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
flinches, steals a quick look down and then back at me, as if he had convinced
himself to be brave, to face me when I break the bad news, and it had to be
bad, whatever it was. I exhale.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’re
going to the fun fair.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
taking you to the fun fair. You said you wanted to go for your birthday, and
today’s your birthday, so I’ve pulled you out of school to go. So do you wanna
go or not?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“B-but
I thought—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What
did you think I was going to say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well,
I dunno, like somebody died or something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Actually,
yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?
Who?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m
just kidding. The fun fair thing though, we’re doing that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What!
Oh my God, Dad, can you stop kidding around? You’re going to give me a heart
attack.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You’re
too young to have a heart attack. Stop being so dramatic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“But,
what about school? What did Mum say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t
worry about school. I’m a very charming person, as I’m sure you know, and I’ve
got your Principal, Mrs. Kuan, eating out of the palm of my hand. And what Mum
doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Dad!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
ruffle his head, and throw my head back to laugh. “Come on, kiddo. Your
Magnificently Fun Day Extravaganza With Dad begins now!” He sideways-glares at
me, frowns as if assessing if I was kidding, then finally smirks, deciding that
I wasn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Okay.
You’re buying me cotton candy. And I’m gonna beat you at every game there is.
You better bring your A-game on.” I stare at him. A corner of his uniform shirt
is untucked, and his Monday tie is a little askew. But his steps have become
springy, as they always do when he gets a little excited, his cheeks are red
from the heat, and his dimples show. He looked like he still had his whole life
ahead of him, but he is merely enjoying the present moment. And I soak it all
in. This is what I miss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
wait till he looks up at me again. I wink. “Deal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even
though it is a weekday, there is still a crowd. Amidst the tantalizing smells
of all things fried and positively sinful, starkly reminding us that it is just
about lunchtime, kids are running around pulling tired-looking resigned parents
behind them, squealing excitedly at this ride or that, this snack or that
treat. Teenagers, mostly in twos, strolled together, hand in hand, or arms
slung over each other, laughing, kissing, giggling. I guess we had more than
one truant at the fun fair today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
reach down to take Toby’s hand, and he pulls away. “Daaaaad. Come on, I’m
seven.” I am amused. “Wow, Mister I’m-A-Big-Boy. Too cool to hold your dad’s
hand now?” He shrugs, and something about the way he does, each time, hits me
with the realization that he is growing up, faster than I’d like; but I guess
the him now is all I will have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
steps suddenly accelerate slightly, almost unnoticeable, but I do, and I see
why—we are approaching the bumper cars, his favourite ride. He holds back, as
if hesitant, clears his throat. “Hey, we’re at the bumper cars.” He nods. “Did
you know that bumper cars run on electricity? They get powered through the
poles that connect the back of the cars to the wire grid at the top.” Toby
points to the ceiling as we arrive at the queue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Really?”
I act surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah.
Electricity is converted to kinetic energy—that’s movement—and also, heat. And
it’s based off of Newton’s third law of motion—that for every action, there is
an equal and opposite reaction.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “I’ve been reading
up,” he mumbles, embarrassed, and shifts his weight to his other foot. I am
struck by how smart he is, how curious, how brilliant. I am in awe. He is after
all, only seven.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
is quiet, but his eyes shine, and I know he is almost impatient, a bird about
to burst forth from its nest. “Let’s go,” I turn and take a few steps away from
the cars. He stares after me, crestfallen. I pause and turn back to him, beam wide
like an open wallet. “Daaaaaad,” he whines. I grab him into a wrestler’s
embrace, squeeze him tight despite his protests. “This cool-boy attitude you’re
trying to pull is so not working,” I playfully punch his face. He proceeds to
deny it, but not very convincingly, as we get in line.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You
suck, Dad,” he finally ends his rant. “Language,” I reply. “Sorry.” But I am
smiling so hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The final
credits of the movie scroll up and fade out to black. I glance to my right and
see that my wife is asleep, and lightly snoring, her mouth open. Thankfully,
she had suspected nothing, even though our little “skit” to explain how I had
finished work early and picked him up for ice cream was a poor performance, to
say the least. Either that or my wife was one damn good actor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My eyes
sweep over the coffee table where three pairs of feet were miraculously propped
up on between the dishes from dinner earlier. Pizza and birthday cake for
dessert was a roaring success, well applauded by both Toby and my wife. You can
never go wrong with pizza. And who doesn’t love birthday cake? Wishes were
made, copious kisses were planted on a seemingly reluctant recipient, and
laughter heard throughout. The movie of choice was of course decided on by the
birthday boy (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for the hundredth time) and (grudgingly)
accepted by all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And on my
lap, Toby lies, where his slightly-too-long fringe covers his eyes, and a tiny
bit of cream sticks to the corner of his lips. I thought to wipe it for him but
didn’t for fear of waking him. My left leg is asleep, tiny pins and needles
running up and down it, and I yearn to stretch, but instead, I continue staring
at my son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think
back to the day he was born, and remember thinking that nothing anyone had ever
said to me then had prepared me for the arrival of my son, a little ball of
angry, bawling red; the overwhelming fear and sense of responsibility that
consumes you at that moment, and all moments since, the love, the joy. The anticipation
of nurturing this little creature whom everyone says has my eyes, my chin, my
way with words, my devilish grin, into the man he is meant to be, a man I would
be proud to call mine. He is one that I am <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">already</i>
proud to call mine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A flash of
the world spinning 360<sup> </sup>degrees, the steering wheel, the roar of
metal against metal, his screams. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What is
this? A glitch?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He stirs
suddenly in spite of my best efforts to be completely still. He frowns,
wrinkles his nose, blinks up at me, relaxes. “Hi, dad,” his voice croaky. “Hey,
buddy.” We are silent for a moment, eyes and hearts connected. “Best birthday
ever,” he whispers. I inhale. “I love you,” I place my hand on the top of his
head, draw comfort from the warmth, try to absorb it, sear it into my memory
forever. My heart is full, overflows, spills over like a waterfall over Toby,
over the coffee table, filling the room. Intense joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just like
that, everything fades out to black, and I am hit with sudden panic, screaming
inside. “No!” I shout. “No, not yet, please! Give me more time!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My heart
falls as I see the familiar white coat come into focus. I am sweating. “I’m
sorry, Mr. Daniel. Your time is up,” her eyes are soft, almost apologetic. She
proceeds to remove the IV lines from my wrists, the neurofeedback EEG sensor
cap that feeds the images to my brain. “But I need more time,” I plead. She is
a statue. “Please. I have more money.” She finally sighs. “Just…please. He is—was
my son,” I grab her hands, desperate. She gently pulls away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We don’t
recommend that our patients spend too long in one session, Mr. Daniel. Maybe at
the next one? Make an appointment at the front office, and we will be waiting
for you next week, okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I slump
into my chair, resigned. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Till next week,
Toby. I’ll see you again soon.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The End<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">© Copyright
of Lisa Kwan 2018<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 12pt 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written 24<sup>th</sup>
June, 2018<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Author’s note: Written for the
Writer’s Tower, for June 2018 theme: Euphoria.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span>Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-16932053858403635632018-05-29T13:00:00.000+08:002018-05-29T13:02:30.230+08:00Garden of Daisies<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Written for: The Writer's Tower</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Theme: Phoenix</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Garden of Daisies</span></span></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px; text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">By Lisa Kwan</span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I kneaded the soil with
my hands, relishing the feel of the dirt between my fingers, the earth trapped
in my fingernails turning them brown-black. The spade lay beside me, but I felt
no need for it.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I looked up for a
moment, stared at the sky. Dark clouds were visible in the distance, but right
now, over my flowerless garden, the sun was bright and glaring, and hot; small
beads of perspiration were beginning to form on my temples even though I had
only just started. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’d better get this
done soon</i>.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I dug my fingers deeper,
removing more soil, the beginnings of a hole forming, a shallow grave. I kept
on digging, trying to keep my mind focused only on what was in front of me. Dig,
dig, dig. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Don’t think of anything else</i>,
I tell myself. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Don’t think</i>.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">The corner of my eye
caught the pale, smooth stone I had brought with me out to the garden, and I
failed. I don’t really know how it would have looked like, but I had imagined it
fair, and beautiful, taking after Jonah’s and my complexion.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Nowadays, that is as
far as I would allow myself to imagine. The more I had imagined, the bigger the
heartbreak, the deeper the scars. Would he or she have been a runner, like
Jonah? Or a pianist, like me? Would he or she have liked eating cereal, or
vegetables? Or be a meat-lover? Would he or she have grown up to be a doctor,
an artist, a teacher, a national swimmer?</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">No one would ever really
know. And I hated myself for wondering.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I blinked back the
tears, trying to push the feelings away, failing yet again. The ugly monster emerged
once more, sneaking its slimy limbs around me; first around my waist, up my back,
over my shoulders, then closing in on my neck and throat, chest, until I couldn’t
breathe. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Was it my fault? Had I done
something to cause this? Maybe if I had been happier, more careful, it would
still be alive?</i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hadn’t asked for
this. I had never thought of myself as a mother. But those stupid daydreams and
sickly giddiness at the thought of being one had grown and flourished as the
weeks went by—having a little girl to share my love of summer dresses, or a
little boy to teach to go catch spiders with. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stupid.</i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I remember when it had
first happened. Oh, the pain. It felt like someone had punched (and kicked) my
stomach. Or like someone was turning my body inside out through my abdomen. I had
fleetingly thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Is this how it feels
to die? </i>And oh, the bleeding. So much blood. And then came that sinking
feeling, that my nightmare had materialized. It felt like a huge stone had been
slowly, carefully, lowered squarely onto my chest.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I picked up the stone,
clasped it in both my hands and held it to my heart, closed my eyes and wept. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Goodbye, little one. I already love you with
all my being.</i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Maybe I was not meant
to ever have a healthy baby. Maybe I was only meant to carry them around with
me for several weeks, dream of our lives together, share whispered secrets and
wishes and thoughts to each other, and then they leave. Maybe that is all the
mother I will ever be. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">When my sobs had
ceased, I lifted the stone, touched it to my lips. I finally lowered it into
the hole I had made, and gently covered it with the loose soil, built a small
mound of earth, a mountain of my grief.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I sat up and took a
deep quivering breath, and stared at my flowerless garden, now with six silent mounds
staring back at me. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No more,</i> I tell
myself. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No more, please.</i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But my breath catches.
I notice something I hadn’t before. A single, tiny, delicate daisy, growing
atop the very first one. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How?</i> I
wonder. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How?</i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I see a little girl
kneel down by the daisy, touch it lightly, and turn to me laughing. I see a
little boy run up to it, sniff it and call me over excitedly, asking if he can
pluck it.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I blink through the
tears, and they disappear. I want that. So badly. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hold my breath as I
walk over to the daisy and kiss it. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Some
day, </i>I think. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I’m going to be a mom.</i></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="margin: 0px;">Author’s Note: </span></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="margin: 0px;">Written
for the Writer’s Tower with the theme “Phoenix”. Inspired by a recent experience
of a friend who is now expecting. Details mostly fiction.</span></i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="line-height: 115%; margin: 0px;">
<span style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">© COPYRIGHT LISA KWAN
2018</span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-11919242766233600122015-04-02T22:06:00.003+08:002015-04-02T22:12:45.308+08:00The Resit Test<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">by Lisa Kwan</span></i></div>
<div class="p2" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a> </span></span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Theme: Irony (March)</span></span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Medal Words: seductive, goblet</span></span></span></blockquote>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;">The lecturer had been nervous all day, wondering how and
when she was going to tell them. Would they be upset? Would they cry? Would
they be angry? Or worse, would they complain about her to their faculty deans
and get her in trouble?</span></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But she had to tell them; she just had to.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Probably at the end, when they had less time to....kill her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Throughout the lesson, she had tried to act as normal as she
could. Students had asked her questions about class work, she had answered. A
student made a joke, she laughed, albeit a little restrained.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, it was the last ten minutes of the lesson. She had
to do it—now or never.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Guys, there's something I have to tell you. It's about your
test.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The class immediately quietened, and she could see (and
somehow <i>feel</i>) all eyes on her. Her
heart began to thump again, an erratic drum beat in her ears.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“There's no easy way to say this, so...” She took a
shuddering breath. Whispers began and died before her next line:<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Your writing test papers that you did last week? Well, I’d
kept them in my box in the office after marking them, and I was going to return
them to you next week. But when I checked my box this morning, they weren't
there.” Silence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“The problem is, I hadn't recorded your marks because I
wanted to go through the paper with you and finalize the marks before recording
them...and now they're all gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A collective audible gasp went round the room, like a creepy
wind.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I think you'll have to re-sit test. I’m so sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anxious questions started pouring in. “Will they be the same
questions?” “Of course not, I can’t do that.” The boy looked crestfallen. “Will
it be during class time?” A girl, eyes a little teary, asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I need to find a
common time slot when all of you are free, so we can do the test again. Since I
still have a lot of the syllabus to cover, it’ll have to be an extra class.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Groans. Tears. Curse words. In English <i>and </i>Mandarin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Miss, can’t we just do some lousy quiz, and you’ll give us
the marks?” “Miss, just <i>agak-agak</i> the
marks, can already lar!” “Miss, give us high marks. No need do again lar.” “Yeah,
Miss.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The lecturer looked at
all the pale faces staring expectantly at her. She wringed her hands, and said,
“I just wanted to say….April Fool, everyone!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The class erupted in an
uproar. “Yor, Miss, don’t do like that to us lar! Heart attack oh.” “Miss, you
so bad lar. Scare us only.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She laughed out loud,
smiling. “I’m sorry, guys, I couldn’t resist. April the first only comes but
once a year. Besides, it was kinda fun.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Not fun ler, Miss. Fun
for you only lar.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The class dismissed
then, mostly relieved. And the lecturer imagined that they would be talking
about the funny prank that their fun, sporting lecturer had played on them for a while.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She headed back to her
department office, and decided to stop by her ‘pigeon box’ in front of the
counter, waving distractedly to the administrative assistant, Belinda.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The test papers were
not there. They really weren’t! <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She searched high and
low, turned her office room upside down, asked Belinda if she had seen anyone
sniffing suspiciously around her box. Who would want to steal students’ test
papers?!<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They were mysteriously
gone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Good luck to her trying
to explain </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">this</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> to her students now.
Maybe, just maybe…they’ll find it funny?</span><br />
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>Author's Note: Inspired by true events. Partially fiction.</b></i></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="s1"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
© COPYRIGHT LISA KWAN
2015<o:p></o:p></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-56370210272786817922015-02-28T17:31:00.001+08:002015-02-28T22:15:02.289+08:00The Flower<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan</i></div>
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<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></i></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/?ref=bookmarks" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Unromantic (February)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Medal words: candelabra, eccentric</span></blockquote>
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*** </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
was annoyed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite
it being the morning, she had awoken in darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
pushed herself off the bed and padded in her bare feet towards the ceiling-high
windows of her bedroom, her translucent nightgown almost trailing the floor. They
were still tightly shut, the windows, probably the work of some ill-informed
servant—she hated them closed like that, especially in the mornings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
pushed her tiny hands against the wooden shutters, and they creaked as they
opened, as if protesting most enthusiastically. As she had suspected, it was a
beautiful morning in Willow Vale. A special day. She wondered if today would be
different. And a tiny part of her dared hope. It was, after all, their first anniversary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There
was plenty to do before her husband returned home. But at that very moment, her
stomach growled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Melyra,”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A
young girl came beside her almost immediately. “Yes, m’lady.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Breakfast.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Downstairs,
m’lady. I will escort you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They
walked silently down the winding stairs, the stone walls dark and cold and depressing.
Couldn’t these stones have any other colours other than grey, grey and grey? She
wished she could spruce up the place with colourful banners and silks and
flowers, which she’d tried, once, while her husband was away. She lightly
brushed the side of her left cheek before she tucked a strand of hair behind
her ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They
finally arrived at the dining hall. The high-back chairs were neatly arranged
in long rows on both sides of her as she sat at the head of the table. She
imagined them all greeting her “M’lady,” splintering as they bowed like wooden
lords and ladies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out
of habit, she traced the edge of the table with her fingers, galloping
stallions that ran all along the sides. As in almost all their possessions,
there was some form of a horse motif, reminding anyone and everyone who her
husband was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even
before they were wed, she’d heard stories about her husband—stories of how his
horses had been trained to walk through fire, swim across Red Lake and run a
hundred yards in mere seconds, whose coats shone like gold. And when she had
seen those magnificent beasts for the first time, she never doubted. They were
creatures people would kill for. Creatures people would sell their daughters
for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There
were stories about him, too. That he grew up with horses, ate and slept with
them, had sexual relations with them and even fathered human-horse aberrations that
became his prized horses. “You’re wedding The Centaur,” they told her. Half
man, half horse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
had seen her husband ride, flying across their fields as if one with his steed;
fully man, and an admirable one at that. She knew the rumours were rumours. Her
husband was only…eccentric.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although
breakfast was rich and looked appetizing, she barely touched it. Her taste buds
had yet to get accustomed to the food on this side of the Red Lake. She pushed
her plate away. “M’lady,” the young girl said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
pouted. “I don’t want this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
young girl nodded and said no more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then
she stood up and announced to the rest of the waiting servants, “We have plenty
to prepare before my lord arrives. So let us begin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
rest of the day flew by as she directed the servants to clean, dust, polish, wash,
and cook. Nothing but the finest linens, the smoothest silks, the softest
pillows; the most tender meat, sweetest figs, the strongest wine. All the
gold-plated candelabras were brought out, now sparkling. The servants lit them and
more candles as the sky grew dark, arranged them on the overflowing dining
table, and in their bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
she looked over the feast awaiting them in the dining hall and the entire
castle lit with candles, she hoped she’d done it right. She prayed he would be
pleased. Now, there was only one last thing to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
returned to her bedroom with Melyra wordlessly following behind her. She
stripped herself of her clothes, damp with sweat. She stood before the mirror,
staring at her own naked body, wide-eyed. Her budding breasts had flowered, and
her hips had taken on more womanly contours. Hair had appeared on certain parts
of her body, much to her dismay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
could only imagine what doing <i>it</i>
would be like, her knowledge of such matters only as deep as the forbidden
romance novels she used to read secretly in the outhouse under the light of a
dying candle as a child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
ran her hands all along her body, from her chest, down to her belly, picturing
his big strong hands, hands she had seen pull a foal out from its mother,
touching every part of her. Caressing her, kissing her softly, and gently. It
seemed to be full of passion, love, lust and desire. She wondered if when you
made love, two really did become one. Would she be part of him, become half
horse as well?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe
she could win his heart this way. Then maybe, he would stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What
are you doing, child?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
swung around, startled, and saw her husband had returned. From where she stood,
his graying hair shone almost silver. Melyra hastily excused herself and left,
leaving the two alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I
was getting ready…for you, my lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
frowned as he looked around at all the flickering candles in the room. “I am
tired from the riding. We’ll speak in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
took two tentative steps towards him, placed her shivering tiny hand on his
hairy one. “I had my first bleed while you were gone,” she whispered. He
stilled. She continued, “I..I thought maybe we could…” and she leaned up
against him, as all her heroines had done when it begins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
struck her hard across the face, and she reeled back, instant tears in her
eyes. He grabbed her petite body and threw her on their bed, laid with the soft
silks she had the servants place earlier that day. Before she could get up, he
flipped her onto her front, her face buried in the pillows; but not before her
face had tasted the strength of his hand several more times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Without
a word, he mounted her like he mounted his horses, and she cried out from the
pain. As the tears streamed down her face, she looked up to see the horses,
those damned horses galloping and frolicking gaily on their headboard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They
were all she could see.</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">© COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-11897484655112476092015-02-01T12:35:00.000+08:002015-02-01T12:36:19.229+08:00The Sanguine<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>by Lisa Kwan</i></b></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span><br /><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Sanguine (January)</span><br /><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bonus words: "saucepan" or "croissant"</span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Their
march-like footsteps could be heard around the corner. We ducked into a nearby
alley, hearts pounding. They trudged safely past. Any second later and they’d
have caught us. I shivered. I gripped her small hand tighter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We
crept along the walls, barely daring to breathe. Her small bag of belongings
swung heavily around her slight shoulders as we swiftly turned corners and
darted between the shadows. I remember fleetingly wondering what she’d brought with
her, knowing there was no return; if one of the contents was regret.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
suddenly pulled me back, gripped my cloak. We’d arrived at a dead end. I must
have taken a wrong turn; it was too dark to see. It wasn’t the same way I’d
come by. Still, I pulled her closer, and silently made way towards the main
road. It was our only path out of the town.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Merely
a few steps later, a guard headed in our direction, his armor reflecting tell-tale
moonlight. I felt her squeeze my hand ever so slightly. We were exposed.
Quickly, we slipped into one of the houses through a side doorway. I thanked
the gods that these people never locked their doors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We
found ourselves in a kitchen. We stayed deep in the shadows by the doorway,
watching for anymore incoming guards. She leaned back and knocked over a
saucepan which clattered to the ground, a deafening sound that made my stomach
shrink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
grabbed her and we ran. Ran until our lungs felt like it was about to explode.
But I heard them coming after us; first the one, then several, their shouts
getting closer. </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They must have realized, too soon, that she was
gone.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">Against my better judgment, I turned back to look. The street
seemed like it had been lit on fire—blazing torch flames danced and rose high to the roofs; the smell of smoke and their fury equally choking.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
tripped, and her legs just gave way beneath her. She collapsed in a heap; even
so, she fell as gracefully as if she were doing a dance. As my heart sank
together with her, I watched everything in slow motion. Mid-air, she smiled a sad
smile, as if knowing this was goodbye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
ran to her side, tugged her to her feet; but suddenly there were hands
surrounding us, grabbing us, clutching at us. We were pulled apart, and I cried
out her name. I only saw my name on her lips, noticed the cut above her eyebrow from her
fall before she was taken away, disappearing into the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Several
successive blows landed below my ribs, and I doubled over from the pain. My
eyes teared up, clouding my vision. But as I looked up, I recognized the
face—the chief of the Sanguines. Her father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
he stood in front of me, six-feet tall and in full armor, the mob diminished to
a hush. Without warning, he bent down and tore my robes at the shoulder,
revealing my mark of the Earth—of a Melancholic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“A
Melancholic,” he spat. The crowd grew restless. “So it’s true,” they murmured.
“The chief’s daughter and a Melancholic were together…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
pushed myself up, albeit shakily, with the little strength I had in my arms. “Please,”
I begged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
was completely blindsided by the chief’s ensuing blow. “You know the law. All
of us, be it Sanguines or Melancholics, Cholerics or Phlegmatics—we do not mix,
mingle, or socialize with anyone outside of our community. It is absolutely
forbidden. You <i>know</i> that. Yet you <i>chose</i> to seek out my daughter, a
Sanguine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
wiped the blood off my mouth, my hands shaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What
reason on earth,” he bellowed, “—would a Melancholic have with a Sanguine,
other than to spy on us and to have us destroyed?” He took a shuddering breath.
“You took advantage of my daughter. You <i>used</i>
my Zethora for your own agenda.” The murmurs rose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even
though it wasn’t true, I kept silent. Now that I had been caught, I needed to
make sure Zethora would be safe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Add
to that the fact that you have been captured on Sanguine land. That, too, is
punishable by death.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Please,
sir. I would never hurt her or any of your peo—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“LIES!
All lies! Silence your deceitful mouth, or I shall!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
hung my head. I thought of the day I first saw her, watching her in secret, in
awe, and vowing to have her; so what if she were a hated Sanguine, and I, a
Melancholic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And
I remembered growing to know her—her kindheartedness, optimism and spontaneity
a stark but welcome contrast to my wariness, pessimism and rebellious nature—and
eventually, inevitably, to love her. And I realized that, unlike what had been
ingrained in us since birth, Sanguines were people too, with hopes and dreams, full
of love and compassion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“…and we’ll live in a small
little hut surrounded by fields filled with flowers of all kinds.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I hate flowers.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It doesn’t matter. I love them.
They’re beautiful.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You would.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We were silent once more. I
gently traced the mark of the Air on her shoulder, burned into her soft skin at
birth. As was mine. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Earth and Air. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day and Night.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Heratis…”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hm?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We will…could…one day. Right?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I turned to her. Her eyes glistened.
And against my better judgment, I promised.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Now,
any last words, Melancholic?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish I could have
held her face once more, kissed her once more. I wish I was stronger. I wish things
could have been different—perhaps another time, another place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As they dragged me away, I somehow heard her voice. Almost a whisper in my ear, “I’m
coming with you.” </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My eyes searched the
crowd for one final glimpse but could not find her.</span></span></div>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I prayed she was safe,
that she would live on.</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">*Author’s note: Story
inspired by the theory of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_temperaments" target="_blank">Four Temperaments</a>.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">© COPYRIGHT LISA KWAN 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-28331490621653787542014-12-31T20:24:00.001+08:002014-12-31T20:24:26.285+08:00Bridge<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>by Lisa Kwan</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Bridge (December)</span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">BRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Brrrrrr-brrrr-brrrr.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But
it could also be the pounding on my door at the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A
muffled: “Dad? Daddddddd. Wake up, Dad!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
nausea returned. <i>Oh my god. What time was
it?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 <i>too</i> crazy with the boys last night after our clubbing and chicks-I-could-totally-bang
session back at my place. Resigned, I went to get the door instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Dad?”
My ten-year-old son looked up at me, relief and annoyance mixed on his face. “Thought
you were dead, or something,” he mumbled as he pushed past me towards the
living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m
sorry, son. I…was sleeping.” Stars started playing hide-and-seek before my
eyes. I tried to swallow the rancid stench of overnight alcohol and vomit from
my breath. And at the same time, swallow that lump of shame and regret down
with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You
were supposed to pick me up from school. You forgot,” my son accused, eyes
glaring. He pushed aside some empty beer cans on the couch and cleared himself
a seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
glanced at the small alarm clock perched atop an about-to-topple-over pile of
clothes and groaned. <i>I’d slept past two o’clock?!</i>
He’d probably had to use up his allowance for cab fare to get here, by himself.
And I hated the fact that it wasn’t the first time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My
boy picked at a loose thread on the armrest of the couch, silent. I sat down contritely
beside him. I felt something squish under my ass, but I didn’t care. I was
really sorry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m
sorry, buddy. It won’t happen again, I promise.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
scooted further away from me, pulling harder at that loose thread. The foam
underneath was already partially exposed, rotting and ugly. I had to fix it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Whadd’ya
say we get a pizza for lunch? We’ll get anything you want, stuffed crust and
all.” I nudged him with my shoulder and noticed his lips fighting the urge to
smile. And I resisted the urge to do the same. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
sniffed. “You…won’t be forgiven that easily, Dad.” I pulled him into a hug,
which he pretended to get out of. “I know.” I wasn’t a good enough dad; that
much I knew, and that made me sick to my stomach. But it felt good to hold my
son. We sat in a comfortable silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I
want Hawaiian Chicken with extra cheese and stuffed crust. And barbecue wings.”
I laughed and got up to make the order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“And
don’t forget the onion rings!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“So…did
you have a good time?” I asked, hesitantly. I was always worried. Worried my
son would one day lose those rose-tinted hero glasses through which he saw his
father—and I would be left to try to put the pieces back together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It
was fun. We had pizza.” “Oh, really?” “Yeah, with stuffed crust. Stuffed crust
is the best. And chicken wings. And onion rings. Hey, that rhymes!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“So
it does!” I chuckled along with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Tell
me about school today.” “Ooh, Mum, today in Science we learned about frogs and
did you know frogs started as tadpoles that look like little black fishies and
then they grow legs? And then Mrs. Raj said…” He happily launched into his
I-don’t-need-to-take-breaths telling of his school day, which I absolutely
loved. Reminds of when he was little and he’d go all red in the face when he
told his stories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Oh,
yeah. Um, Mum…” “Yeah, hon?” “The new Archie comic is out.” “Uh-huh.” “I think
I kinda need an advance on my allowance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
stopped at the traffic light and turned towards him. “Why? I thought I’d given
you your allowance on Monday?” “Don’t be mad, Mum, but I…kinda already spent
it.” “On what, exactly?” “I…don’t want to tell you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
refused to look at me, but started peeling bits of skin from the sides of his nails.
My mind whirled with the possibilities that he wouldn’t tell me about. Toys?
Sweets? Porn? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or…something
to do with his dad. Somehow, I knew I was right. And that made my blood boil.
He’s been a jerk of a husband; that I can forgive. But not a jerk of a father to
our son. I believe I’ve given him enough chances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
the traffic light turned green again, I opened my mouth to say something about
that no-good father of his. “You know wh—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m
sorry, Mum. It won’t happen again. I promise.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
looked genuinely sorry, as if he had committed the worst sin in the world. When
I knew he hadn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
sighed. “Tell me about your day with Dad.” He looked up then, delighted. Not
even surprised by the change in topic. I stole glances at him as he regaled me
with what other little misadventures he’d had with his dad that day, and I couldn’t
deny how his eyes lit up. I couldn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“And
then Dad says, ‘But you left your head!’ and I laughed so hard I almost peed my
pants, Mum, it was so funny Dad is always telling me funny jokes do you wanna
hear another one, Mum? A rabbi walks into a bar…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
looked straight ahead, comforted by the sound my son’s laughter and soothing
voice as he talked on and on about his father. I guess I could give him one
more chance. Just one more.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">© COPYRIGHT LISA KWAN 2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-85471039969088884112014-10-02T23:13:00.002+08:002014-10-02T23:20:11.700+08:00Someone I Admierer<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>by Lisa Kwan</i></b></span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Comedy (October)</span></blockquote>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">XXX
Univeresty<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Asignement
3: Essy<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Marks:
50<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Someone
I Admierer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By Li
Yan<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My
<s>teacher</s> 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 <s>smil</s> smell. She smell, I also can smell. She
also have the good body. She body very thin and long. Like modell. I wish I
like she body. Maybe I also can become a modell. She hair also long and <s>kerl</s>
<s>kler</s> <s>crel</s> not strait. I think girl got not strait hair is very
pretty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anothr,
Mis Ling is clever. She is very smart. Because she like reading a book. She always
readig a book. Everyday I see she carryng the books she reading. Sometimes I
see the English book like book she useing in my class. Sometiems. it the other
book that is very dificult to read. She can tell me do right things and not the
wrong things. So I always can do the right things. In our life, always do right
things is very improtant. When I have a questions, I always ask she. She also
can tell me the answer. Everything I ask she, she can give me answer. That’s
why I think she is very clever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thrid
thing why my techer is the one people I admire, she is good. She is a good
people. Many things good, she do. For an examples, she give food to a cat. One
day I saw she in the caftreia, she with she friend, a lot of people. A lot of
people, it were very noise. Then she go to order a noodles. That noodles is
very delicious. A lot of people always go to there buy a noodles. Down the
table she sit, suddenly have a cat. The cat is very cut. The cat making the
noise like, Please give me the food. She friend tell she don’t give a food to
she. But she still giveing to the cat. The cat is very happy. So I say my
techer, she very good people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To
sum up, Miss Ling is the one people someone I admierer. Because she is beutifull,
clever and good. I think need more and more people like she. She is the most
best techer in the world. I think she also the most best techer in universe.
Mis Ling, I loveing you very much.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Miss,
I wish you like my essy? I writing about you. And all things I writing is the
true things. This my feelings. I hope you can give me the high marks. So I can
pass. I want pass so I can go back China. My fathr tell to me I cannot go back
China if I not pass. I put in here also have the RM50. RM50 can get the enoff marks
to pass???? Thanks you.)</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New";">Remarks: There ‘have’ no way I
can pass you. Here is RM25 returned. Half total marks = you FAIL. ‘Thanks’ you,
too.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New";"><br /></span>
<br />
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">© COPYRIGHT LISA KWAN 2014<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Author's Note</b>: I was inspired from having marked and read my international students' essay writing. No offence intended, just for fun---they are such dears, but seriously, their writing can make me laugh AND cry. @.@</span></div>
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Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-21275729485956222492014-09-28T23:54:00.000+08:002014-09-28T23:57:39.760+08:00Summer Sling<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Summer (September)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bonus words: <i>chewing gum</i>, <i>ice bucket</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
stood naked on the beach, everyone staring, laughing, pointing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or
at least it felt that way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
don’t know how I let my idiotic friend convince me that swim briefs were <i>the</i> way to get chicks. “Bro, chicks dig
the banana sling, bro. Easier for them to <i>assess</i>,
if you know what I mean,” he winked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You….look….<i>fabulous</i>, 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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
groaned so loudly, the people around us turned to look. I ignored his whimpers
as I stood up and waved everyone away. <i>What’s
done is done</i>, I thought, mentally kicking myself for not thinking to bring
a spare. I dusted off the sand stuck to my exposed and embarrassingly pale
thighs, self-conscious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
heard some groups of people giggling behind me and I wished I could just die
right there. “Hey, bro! Nice legs!” Snickers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
whirled around to stare angrily at them but was too humiliated, and ended up pretending
to gaze at somewhere further off in the distance. I then gave my friend, who
was still doubled over in pain at my feet, another kick in the crotch area,
just in case he forgot how mad I was at his prank. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At
his yelp of pain, and the growing snickers and chuckles I could hear—or imagined,
I had no idea at that point as I could barely lift my head from the
self-consciousness—I decided I’d better buy another pair of more-decent swim
shorts to change into from one of the vendors. There were plenty of stalls
along the beach; I could just grab one, any one. Anything was better than what
I was wearing now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
I walked the short distance to the nearest stall, the sun was blazing hot, with
not a cloud in the sky—perfect weather, really, summerlike. The beach was
packed with people because of the recent school holidays. So there were plenty
of school kids who had come with their parents and even grandparents for a
family vacation or day-trip to the beach. Which was really <i>great</i> for me, you see, especially in my “banana sling”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“See
the uncle, so <i>shame-shame</i> one!” “Yerrrrrrr,
so <i>geli</i>!” Eruption of giggles and
laughter. Disapproving looks from the elderly. “<i>Mei</i>, come here. Don’t look. Not nice to stare.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somebody
throwing an ice bucket on my head would have been less painful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
finally reached the stall I had my eye on, which was really eye-catching
because of its display of colourful floral swim shorts. They looked cheap and
tacky, and I mentally cringed. But another burst of laughter from behind me
made me hastily point to a bright-orange pair with white floral patterns and
ask, “How much?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
aunty tending the stall told me it was fifteen ringgit. I didn’t bother to
bargain and reached down to touch the right cheek of my behind before I
realized I had cleverly left my wallet in my car, where it was parked quite a
distance away from where I was due to the crowds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Obviously,
I didn’t have any money on me. (Where else could I have put it?!) So I asked
the aunty if she could let me change into the swim shorts first, and then I
could run back real quick to my car to get the money and then run back here.
She stared at me as if I had blue rubbery skin and tentacles growing out of the
side of my head. (I may have been watching one too many sci-fi movies of late.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Helpless,
I turned around to find someone who would kindly lend a
stranger-in-a-banana-sling fifteen ringgit to get out of this predicament. To
my surprise, a ten and five dollar note were held out to me—in hands belonging
to a…chick. No, a <i>babe</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
was pretty, tanned with short hair, a pixie do. Though I preferred my chicks
long-haired and fair, she had this aura about her, like she was cool and
bad-ass. Maybe because she was furiously chewing gum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or
because she had a snake tattoo snaking from her mid-belly down to…wherever is
behind her bikini bottom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I—uh—noticed
that she was wearing a frilly bright-orange bikini and a smoking hot body. Slim
and slender and taut. Wouldn’t I love to pour something hot and sticky all over
her and slowly lick it off her—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Here,”
she said simply. I blanched. She pushed the notes into my hand. “Get the
bright-orange pair,” she urged. “Then we’d match,” she winked and then crossed
her arms beneath her bikini top, accentuating her well-endowed bosom and deep
cleavage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
visibly gulped. “I-I-I—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Or
maybe,” she looked me up and down, pausing at my banana sling, “you could just
keep what you’re wearing right now.” She leaned forward and whispered into my
ear, “I think you look <i>delicious</i>,”
and stuck her tongue in it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">WHAT.
THE. HELL.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay,
I don’t know how often things like these happen, especially outside of porn
movies, but I’m making a wild guess here, like, hm, I don’t know, NEVER?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And
when a chick, no, <i>babe</i> like that
tells you to keep your banana sling on, YOU DO IT.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Okay.”
I managed to sound mildly indifferent despite me playing “We are the Champions”
in my head and thinking I must be making some kind of history for all men
worldwide. In my mind, my friend was giving me a standing ovation and
slow-clapping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
nodded her approval and slipped her arms around me to cup my…rear. Gave it a
little squeeze. I gasped and held my breath. I had to be dreaming, I had to.
But, oh god, <i>please</i> don’t let me wake
up now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Let’s
go…<i>hang out</i> somewhere, shall we?” She
batted her eyelashes and licked her lips. “Okay,” I said again, cementing my
one-word vocabulary abilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And
let me tell you, what happened after that, made it the BEST day of my life! I
had to treat my bastard of a friend to dinner because he claimed that that babe
would never have approached me were it not for the banana sling he had tricked
me into wearing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Honestly,
I cannot deny it. Cost me a couple of hundred bucks, that dinner. But bros, I
am now a firm believer, and I hope you will be too, that swim briefs are <i>the
way to go</i>. Chicks dig the banana sling. Easier for them to <i>assess</i>, if you know what I mean.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"><b>(C) COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2014</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-69599607402799867882014-08-11T14:14:00.001+08:002014-08-11T14:15:07.888+08:00What a Beautiful Name<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: The Writer's Tower</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Name (August)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bonus words: <i>mustard, asylum</i></span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Paradise.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her
name was Paradise. <i>Indeed, what a
beautiful name</i>, 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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It
couldn’t have been a chance encounter. Of all the coffee delivery girls at all
the branches of <i>Coffee R Us</i>, it had
to be her. Of all the offices in the building, it had to be <i>his</i>. And of the sixty-odd interns at his
office, the one with coffee duty today, of all days, had to be <i>him</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 <i>their</i> turn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So
far, since his six months here, this was his second time on coffee duty, and he
hadn’t screwed up. Yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then
she had emerged from the elevator like an angel, complete with angelic halo,
courtesy of the too-bright lights that lit up the office and made it look like
a sterile hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Exchanging
the artistically-balanced cups of coffee for cash, he just <i>had </i>to ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What
is your name?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
was sure he must have looked like an idiot, with his mouth hanging open, and his
eyes as round as the base of the coffee cups she was holding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
had smiled when she told him. The I’m-pretending-to-be-shy-but-actually-wouldn’t-mind-you-asking-me-out
kind of smile, instead of the I’m-just-being-polite-but-EW-get-away-from-me-you-freak
kind. At least he hoped so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>It had to be fate</i>, he thought. <i>I have to see her again</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
he walked off, absentmindedly wondering how she had carried these twenty cups
of coffee without spilling them, he made plans. It was a small world. He would
find her. Besides, with such a uniquely beautiful name, how many coffee-delivery-girl
Paradises can there be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
couldn’t believe she had said yes. He couldn’t believe she had said yes and
that she was sitting opposite him across a table filled with pastries, right
this moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dressed in a pretty dark blue top and mustard
short skirt, he just couldn’t take his eyes off her. And apparently, everyone
else in the quaint little pastry shop couldn’t either.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
was perfect. Everything about her was perfect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When
she threw her head back as she laughed, he thought, <i>Paradise</i>. When she licked the pastry crumbs off her fingers, <i>Paradise.</i> When she playfully slapped her
hand against his arm, when she announced that she never really liked
strawberries anyway, when she dusted some icing sugar off the side of his lips,
<i>Paradise, Paradise, Paradise</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
was intoxicating, the smell of her, the sight of her. He wondered about how she
would taste. As sweet as she seemed to be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They
talked for hours, way after teatime and well into dinnertime. He suggested they
try a Mexican restaurant located near his apartment. She happily agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By
the time dinner was over, and their leftover nachos had gone soggy, they were
both hopelessly drunk, and horny. How convenient it was that his apartment was
just nearby, wasn’t it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They
tumbled into his bedroom in the dark, hands groping each other, hastily and
clumsily pulling off articles of clothing. Giggling like schoolgirls. But their
lovemaking was anything but.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After
she had drifted off to sleep and lay beside him snoring gently, spent, he
slipped out of bed, his desire rising once more. From his closet, he pulled out
the knife he always kept in a corner, and stood over his sleeping angel, silently
watching her chest rise and fall in a rhythm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As
he gently placed the knife by her neck with one hand, he pulled some of her
hair up over her head with the other, not wanting her hair to be matted with
blood. It would be a bother to wash it off later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
gave her a light kiss on the top of her forehead, and she stirred. But before
she could open her eyes, he slit her throat, quickly and painlessly.
Immediately, her entire body went still. He traced a finger down her delicate
nose to her lips, still as ruby red as when he’d first met her. <i>Paradise</i>, he whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The
entire process was tedious, he knew. And required so much patience, which was
so difficult considering how impatient he was. Days and hours of waiting. But
he also knew, it was utterly and completely worth it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over
the years, he had perfected the craft, and he could do it with his eyes closed.
<i>Slather the entire body with lard. Wrap
securely and firmly with a cloth. The longer you wait, the more saturated the
lard becomes with the scent it is set with</i>. He had found that three days
were the best; any sooner or any longer will yield less than perfect results.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Remove the lard from the body and
the wrap, squeezing out as much as you can from the hair as well, so as not to
waste. Soak with ethyl alcohol to draw the fragrance from the lard into the
alcohol. Finally, distill the mixture to yield beautiful, fragrant perfume</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">He held up the translucent yellow glass bottle
in his hand, as close as he could find to the colour mustard, in remembrance of
their first, well, and final, date. Labeled </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">Paradise,</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">
it was filled with the scent of her.</span> He unlocked a glass
cupboard located in the corner of his bedroom, which <i>Paradise </i>had unfortunately failed to notice, being as ‘busy’ as she
was when she had first entered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In
it, sat rows and rows of glass bottles, of different shapes and sizes and
colours. Tall ones, short ones, wide ones, slim ones, those with a round base, or
an angular one; shining with all the colours of the rainbow as they reflected
the light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Each
one held a label: <i>Angelique, Paz, Phoenix,
Willow, Florence, Annabelle, Lexi, Perla, Alexis, Mya, Victoria, Zara, Faith, Bethany,
Chrystal, Hollie, Skye, Eve, Alexandra</i>; each one held a name. He carefully
placed <i>Paradise</i> between them, already
wondering if this one could be his new favourite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He
opened the sealed cap, just a crack, and took a whiff of the fragrance captured
within. Like a hallucination, he could see Paradise’ face, sparkling brown eyes,
her uninhibited laugh, her white skin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh,
how he had fallen for her! Her craziness, her spontaneity, her passion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well,
now he could keep her forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE END<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Note: Story inspired by the 2006
movie Perfume: The Story of a Murderer.</span></span></i></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-54915900956030804282014-07-29T13:11:00.000+08:002014-07-29T13:11:36.363+08:00911 Emergency<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Paradox (July)</span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">911</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">911!!!!</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">‘Sup
babe?</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<b style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I need help! It’s
an emergency!!! Get over here, STAT!!!!!</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Ok. On
my way.</span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Half-running,
half-jogging, I went up to her door and rang the doorbell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christy
appeared at the door, her hair disheveled, her eyes sunken, her lipstick
smudged, and the shoulder of her blouse had slipped, revealing her smooth cream-coloured
skin. My heart sank to the floor. <i>Had
something happened?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
pulled me in after her and shut the door, leaving me confused. Her house was in
darkness, even though it was mid-afternoon. When my eyes had adjusted to the
dim lighting, I noticed her living room looked like she had been robbed. It was
a complete mess! Broken glass, things tossed and thrown around. An uneasy
feeling settled on my chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christy
was mumbling to herself, ambling towards the back of the house, almost as if
she had forgotten I was here. I was frankly freaked out. <i>What the hell happened in here?</i> I
grabbed her hand and swung her to face me. “Christy, talk to me babe! Are you
alright? Are you hurt? Did somebody hurt you?” My voice was rising in panic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her
eyes were empty, almost unseeing. As I watched, her eyes seemed to clear and
she finally looked at me. <i>Really</i>
looked at me. “Kel,” she whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yes,
babe, I’m here.” I pulled her into a tight embrace, gripping her hunched
shoulders. I felt a tiny sigh escape her lips, warming a small part of my neck.
<i>She’s going to be alright</i>, I think.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
hold her so she is staring right at me, and I made sure she saw me when I said,
“Tell me what happened. Everything.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She
silently nodded, but slowly turned around and wandered towards her room. Not
knowing what to do, I silently followed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
found Christy slumped over, sitting on the edge of her bed, which was also
strewn with clothes, her bedroom in various disarray; and my head ran through
every possible worst case scenario. <i>She
was robbed. She was blackmailed. It was the mafia. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">“His
eyes reminded me of melted chocolate, the kind you’d dip into and savour as you
lick it off, you know?” she said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She was raped.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“He
enrolled into my class only this semester, a late-entry student. He was
handsome, oh <i>so</i> handsome. All the
girls were talking about him, wondering if he was attached, searching his hands
for a ring or, even a trace of a ring. But there was none.” Here, she paused,
and looked upwards at the ceiling, smiling. <i>Was
that a tear in her eye?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Honestly,
she was scaring me more and more by the minute, these crazy mood swings. “Uh-huh,”
I said, inching slowly towards her door, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well,
she didn’t notice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Out
of <i>all</i> the girls in our class,
including Mindy, this long-legged skinny bitch, he picked <i>me</i>. <span style="line-height: 115%;">I can’t understand why.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">” Her eyes found mine, shining with obvious tears.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“We
weren’t even in the same group for the assignment, but he walked up to us, in
the midst of discussion, and, with everyone watching—<i>especially </i>that cow, Mindy—he asked me out. For coffee. On
Saturday. Me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When
she crouched over once more and dissolved into hysterical sobs, I braced myself
for the worst. <i>Oh no. The jerk. What had
he done?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There
were so many questions running through my head. <i>When? How? Why?</i> But, did it matter now? Did it matter at all?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
tentatively </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">maneuvered my way through </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the mess of clothes on the floor and sat beside her,
the bed creaking a little as I did so. Christy sobbed even louder, if that were
possible. Watching her brokenness, I vowed I would be the best friend a friend
could ever have. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
remembered reading: <i>60% of rape cases in
the last five years were never reported. Even when it is reported, it is
unlikely to lead to arrest and prosecution. Only 3% of rapists ever serve a day
in prison.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i> </i>I’ll
help her get through this. I’ll get her the legal aid she needed, the money. We’ll
prosecute the hell outta that son of a bitch. We’ll make sure he rots in jail.
He’ll never see the light of day <i>again</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My
mind was whirling with the enormity of what was to come, a fight that was only
just beginning. How do we even begin? Who should we talk to? Where do we go?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I
don’t know what to do,” Christy said, hiccupping, her tears streaming down her
face. <i>Me neither</i>, I thought. But I
realized that, from this point onward, I had to be her female knight in shining
armour. I had to put on a brave face, so that she would have the courage to
stand up. To fight. To win.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
clasped her hands in mine, took a deep breath. “You’re going to be fine,” I
said to her, but it seemed more to myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We
sat in silence for a while, except for Christy’s subdued hiccups.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Um,
I hate to rush you, Kel," she hiccuped, "but I’m meeting him in like, an hour.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
turned to look at her then, almost in slow motion. “What?” I spluttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah,
so, I need your help to choose what to wear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It
took me several seconds to acknowledge what she was saying. <i>What to wear. I need your help to choose
what to wear.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
looked around me once more, at the messy bedroom, the variety of clothes chucked
all over, the chaos outside in the living room. And it dawned on me what the
true <i>emergency</i> was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I
have nothing to wear!” Christy wailed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
glared murderously at her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I
thought about who would call 911 emergency now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE END</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">© COPYRIGHT LISA KWAN 2014<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-56743371487457717742014-06-28T22:46:00.002+08:002014-06-29T22:01:12.759+08:00Snow Queen<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>by Lisa Kwan</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: The Writer's Tower</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Mirror (June)</span></blockquote>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You awake, darling?” His voice was
hoarse. And sexy.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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 palest moon on the darkest night. She was conscious of his hungry
stare, and took delight in it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You’re the most beautiful woman in
the world,” he breathed, as he pulled her down to him, the length of her
pressed against him. Before anything else could happen, however, a little girl with rosy apple cheeks had unknowingly snuck into their room and started bouncing excitedly
on their bed. “Wake. Up. Wake. Up. WAKE! UP! The sun’s awake!”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She swiftly wrapped the sheets
around her, neatly, and pulled the excited little Jack in the Box in a tight
embrace, laughing. “Alright, Snow. We’re up. Let’s get some breakfast.” Her
father ruffled Snow’s hair, and her giggles tinkled like wind chimes in a soft
breeze. She gave Snow a flurry of kisses, and Snow playfully pulled away. “I’m
hungry, Mother.” “Okay, let’s head downstairs to the dining hall and see what
they have for us.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her husband had furtively slipped
out of bed and got dressed, already putting on his robes. There was a knock on
the door, and a muffled, “Breakfast is served, Your Majesties.” She watched as
he silently lifted the crown from its place on a purple velvet cushion, and carefully
placed it on his head. He was handsome, commanding, regal—a king. One she had
fallen completely for.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He glanced at her, and winked just
for her. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Carry me, Father!” Snow’s chubby
arms outstretched, her raven black hair shining as bright as her eyes. “Oof! You’re
getting heavy, little one. You’ll have to carry <i>me</i> soon!” More tinkling giggles.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Come down when you’re ready, love.”
He kissed her right on the lips, drawing her breath into his own so she was
left breathless. Their laughter disappeared behind the large wooden doors, and
she wondered, fleetingly, if maybe her fortune had been wrong. The old woman
had said that a terrible fate awaited her should she marry the king, someone
who was hers to neither possess nor covet, but this morning had been anything
but.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She shrugged into her robes too,
finally putting her crown on, the jewels glittering in the sunlight. She
hesitated in front of the full-length mirror by her dresser, staring at her
reflection. She held her head up, and reminded herself, again, as she did every
day, that she was the queen. As she turned her back, her reflection watched her
leave the room and heaved an inaudible sigh.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She stood, unmoving, before the
mirror, thinking that there must be some kind of mistake. She must have heard
wrong. She took several steps back and crumpled to the floor, sobbing.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">He had loved me for my beauty</span></i><span lang="EN-GB">, she
thought. <i>What am I without it?</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She missed him. Not a day went by
where she did not; her heart ached remembering his boyish smile, his playful
wink, his touch, his voice, his desire for her, as if it were only yesterday
instead of almost a decade ago.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He had been her everything, her
whole world. That he had left her a mere couple of years after they were
married was a cruel fate indeed. Though she had an enormous castle and
countless servants at her beck and call, she had never felt so alone.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She did not want to live. She hardly
slept, hardly ate. She shied away from the servants, shrank back from Snow, who
only reminded her of what once was, which was too painful to bear. Snow wasn’t
hers to begin with; had been his and <i>that
woman’s</i>—as she took to referring to his previous wife—and though she tried,
she could not truly love someone who, with each day, grew to be more like the
woman she despised.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, she had noticed, certainly, her newfound
womanly gait. The way she laughed, spoke, moved, even the way she unconsciously
tucks her hair behind her ear. At 16, she possessed grace and poise, regal and
elegant, befitting a princess. But she was also opinionated and intelligent,
inquisitive and argumentative, just like her mother.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She hated that. So much that she
drove Snow away, much to Snow’s bewilderment. She hated that Snow was just like
her mother, hated that she was not hers and would never be, hated that she
reminded her too much of her father, her only love, who was gone and would
never return.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hate. Hate. Hate.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She grew determined. She slowly gathered
her dress about her and stood before the mirror once more. She wanted to hear
it, one more time, to be sure. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s
the fairest of them all?” she whispered, her voice quivering. Her reflection
shifted and swirled before her, morphing into Snow, younger, fairer and more beautiful.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I am, My Lady,” Snow replied, eyes
downcast, hands clasped before her, as if apologetic.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“No, no you are not,” she snarled,
gripping her fists so tightly they turned white. “<i>I </i>am the most beautiful. He <i>loved</i>
me for my beauty. <i>I</i> was the most
beautiful to him.” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From the corner of her eye, she
spied the bowl of apples the servants had left on a table, ruby red and
gleaming. She remembered the former queen, how she was so easily tempted by the
apples’ crimson glow, took a bite from one that she had offered, without even
thinking twice. Not knowing the poison it held, the death that awaited.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She held her head high, reminded
herself again, that she was the queen. The new queen.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mirror, mirror on the wall,” the
queen whispered, “Will Snow White make it after all?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE END</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-size: x-small;">©
COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2014</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Author's Note</b>: My take on the Evil Queen in the Snow White fairy tale.</span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-11103963299592012982014-05-05T23:45:00.000+08:002014-05-05T23:48:04.946+08:00The Prize<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">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</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is one of the reasons why I never gave up on writing. I must be doing <em>something</em> right, isn't it? ;)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enjoy! :D</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<strong><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THE PRIZE</span></strong></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “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.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “I’d like a manicure and pedicure, please.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “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.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The woman took the pen handed to her and signed her name. She was certainly an elegant woman, well dressed with simple but effective make-up on. She had features that many women would envy. But the young receptionist was not looking at her face like the others in the beauty parlour were. She was staring at the slender, polished hands that held the pen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Her fingers. So beautiful. So……perfect.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She gave her ‘Brittany’s Beauty Shop’ smile as the woman completed writing the details and looked up.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “We’ll be sending you some brochures on the latest offers and packages at Brittany’s from time to time, Miss……”, she glanced down at the page, “…Miss Anna. Would you like that?” she watched her and cocked her head suggestively.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “It’s madam, actually. And yes, I’d like that, thank you,” the woman answered.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Oh, yes. My mistake. I beg your pardon, madam.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Oh. She’s married. That will complicate matters a bit.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Well, if you’ll just follow Chloe here,” she gestured to the girl standing beside her, “she’ll take you to the parlour.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “Thank you, er……Sara,” the woman bent over to read the young girl’s name tag.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sara smiled. “No. Thank <em>you</em>, and have a nice day.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> As the woman walked away, Sara looked at the guest book and copied the address written by the last customer into her personal notebook.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>No.</em> She grinned. <em>Thank </em>you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Anna sighed and laid her head on the headrest of the swiveling chair in her office. She studied the ceiling of her air-conditioned room, just to let her eyes rest after staring at the computer the whole day. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift as she stretched her arms.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Boy, am I tired. There’s just so much work to do. So many deadlines! All these projects are just killing me. And the kids! Thank God for Mrs. Houser. She handles the children better than I ever could. We don’t pay her enough for watching them at home.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She gave another sigh.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>I’m just…so…tired……</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> And before she knew it, she was fast asleep.</span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As everything turned dark, Anna
found herself walking along a lonely street. It was badly-lit. Even the moon
didn’t lend its soft light to help guide her way. She couldn’t even see what
was at the end of the street. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She walked quickly. Her hurried
footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet night. There was no one in sight. She felt
alone and so afraid. <i>Where is this place?</i>
Her heart beat wildly and she couldn’t calm her poor, wrecked nerves. She
hugged herself tight against the bone-chilling winds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Was she really as alone as she
thought? She sensed a pair of eyes watching her every move. She glanced behind
her as she quickened her pace. Nothing. She looked straight ahead. <i>Where am I going?</i> She did not know.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that uneasy feeling overwhelmed
her once more and she stopped dead in her tracks. She swung around, her heart
beating faster than before.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A dark figure loomed before her.
The figure lifted his arm. His hand brandished a knife! And before Anna had a
chance to open her mouth to scream….</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hey, boss!” A booming voice
pierced into her subconscious mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anna was jerked back to reality,
sweating profusely. Her hair around her face was drenched in sweat. She panted
like a thirsting dog.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Me and the other guys were gonna
grab a bite to eat after work and we were wondering…..er, boss?” the short,
plump man in his thirties suddenly noticed Anna’s condition.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Boss, you okay?” he looked
concerned. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anna smoothed her wet hair and sat
upright.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah, I’m fine, Tim. Uh….you guys
go on without me. I’m just gonna whip something up when I get home. Besides, the
nanny will be waiting for me so she can go home. Don’t worry about me,” she
added when she noticed her colleague staring at her strangely. With a nervous
chuckle, “I’m fine, really. Go on,” she said and ushered him out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She blew a deep breath, relieved.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What
a scary dream. Thank God it’s just that. A dream.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She had been having the same dream
for the past few weeks. And she was getting worried. Could dreams like this be
a sign, a warning? But that just seemed ridiculous. Which was why she hadn’t
told Eric about it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I’m
being silly</i>, she thought as she packed her things into her briefcase.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s
just a dream and nothing else. Scary, yes, but a dream after all.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or
was it?</span></i></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sara sat in the seat of her old blue Datsun. It was a second-hand car, about fifteen years old now. Everything in the car creaked. And she winced every time it did. She must be careful.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She shifted in her seat. Her back was getting sore from having to sit still for so long. But it was crucial that she did not alert anyone of her presence there. She had even changed the number plate of her Datsun earlier. She wouldn’t want someone to recognize the car.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She took a deep breath. She was always nervous at this time. She returned to watching that particular house on Sunnyside Street. The lights in the hall were still on.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>She must still be doing her yoga. It’ll be anytime soon now.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She took a sip of coffee from her flask and placed it back on the dashboard. She needed to stay alert. It was important.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She had chosen a Sunday night to do it. After spying on Anna for the past three weeks, she knew her routine by heart. She had penned down all her daily activities in her personal notebook.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sunday night was when the husband would work late and the kids were put to bed early for school the next morning. Then, she’d do a little yoga before she went off to bed. The maid would have left ages ago. She would be alone at home with the three children.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The lights in the front of the house were turned off.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Ah. Good. She’s going to bed now.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Upstairs, the lights turned on instead. A while later, everything in the house was dark. Outside on the street, every other house was in darkness too.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Good. This will make things much easier.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sara got out of the car with her bag. The contents of which, only she knew. She crossed the street silently and stood before the dark blue door nervously.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She played in her mind everything she had planned. She knew where the spare keys were kept. She saw the husband retrieve it once. She knew where her bedroom was. She knew the husband wouldn’t be back till much later. Giving her ample time to finish what she came here to do. And she knew exactly what she needed to do.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sara could hardly contain her excitement, nervous as she was. She rubbed her gloved hands eagerly.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The time had come.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Anna sat up on her bed facing the window, and watched the stars twinkling brightly. The sky was full of stars tonight. Slowly, she lay down again on her warm bed. She listened to the crickets making their nightly music. She listened to the sound of her own breathing. Anything to get her mind off the uneasiness she felt right then.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She emptied her mind of all things. Then, one by one, she thought of her family – her husband, Eric, and three darling children; Lee-Ann, Matthew and baby Carrie-Ann. She felt more at peace. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> In a second, her eyes flung open. The uncomfortable feelings she was experiencing had intensified. She turned around. And she saw a dark figure above her which was all too familiar. As the light streamed in, she recognized the smiling face.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> A knife gleamed in the moonlight.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Nooo!</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Darkness enveloped her.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">****</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Sara returned to her apartment, exhausted. She was always tired out after. She left her bag of tools in her closet and took off her gloves. She just felt like having a nice, warm shower.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> After she had washed up, she went to her dressing table where she had placed her prize. She felt such immense satisfaction as she stared at the container.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>Finally, another addition to my collection.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She lifted the container up against the light and admired the slender, delicate finger with the blood red nail polish. <em>Perfect.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Carefully, and gently, she laid the narrow tube into the icebox beneath her dresser with the others.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> She thought of Miss Heather whom she had met that day at Brittany’s. She, too, had beautiful fingers. <em>Perfect</em> fingers.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> A wave of excitement came over her. She shivered in anticipation as she turned off her bedroom lamp.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <em>I just can’t wait.</em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><br /></em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em><br /></em></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE END</b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 16px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: normal; text-align: right;">© COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2014</span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-76015517176913457532014-05-02T19:23:00.000+08:002014-05-02T19:36:40.112+08:00Safe<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Lisa Kwan</span></span></i></b><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: The Writer's Tower</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: The Evil Within (May)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deadline: 2nd June 2014</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">The police are here.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sirens wail and the flashing red and
blue reflect off the walls. I am crouched beneath Rob’s work desk in his home
office, heart pounding, but surprised to realize that I am still trembling.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I anticipate their kicking down the
front door, bursting upon the scene like the heroes they think they are,
knights in shining armour atop equally shining white horses.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Armed officers case the living room as
they enter, then swiftly move further into the house, checking the other rooms,
yelling “Clear!” Still, I wait, patiently and calmly, for them to discover me.
And discover the bodies. Whichever came first.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sir! In here, sir!” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They must be in the kitchen now.
Thundering footsteps moving towards the back of the house, away from where I am,
then almost absolute silence. I can imagine the sight that greets them: a cluttered
kitchen with a carton of milk spilt over, an upset box of cereal, sticky leftover
bowls of batter for pancakes—an abandoned breakfast. And of course: blood
spattered everywhere, two mutilated bodies, barely recognizable anymore, and
severed heads, placed side by side, their eyes wide open, looking mildly
astonished.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A female scream. Then gagging and
throwing up, hopefully into Donna’s well-polished sink. She never liked messes,
especially in her kitchen.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well. I guess there’s nothing she
can really do about it now.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Search the rest of the house! Secure
the boy!” The gruff voice of probably the head of police. More thundering
footsteps as they spread out about the house.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An officer enters the room I am
hiding in. He pauses at the entrance, then takes several rapid steps forward, turns
around and aims his gun at me, under the table. I whimper, and scoot further
backwards, attempting to hide in the shadows under the desk, absolutely terrified.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Shit,” the officer muttered.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Sir, I found the boy! East section
of the house!” He calls out to the Head, then kneels down in front of me. “Come
on kid, don’t be afraid. You’re safe now.” He offers a hand and, still
trembling, I reach for it. This stranger pulls me into a fierce embrace, and I almost
feel safe.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am sitting on a couch in what
seems like a coffee room down at the police station, heavily wrapped in
blankets. I had protested, but everyone fussed around me, barely listening.
Nursing a cup of hot chocolate in my hands, I almost felt normal again.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Detective Sean, a middle-aged man
sporting a rather pathetic-looking goatee, strode into the room, clutching a
file in one hand and staring intensely at an ancient-looking pocket watch in
the other. He had earlier introduced himself, back at the house; he seemed like
a nice, dependable if rather eccentric man, especially his sad-excuse of a goatee.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I must have looked funny, because he
abruptly said, “You can go ahead and laugh. Everybody else already has. But you
just wait a couple of months, it’s going to be glorious, and everyone will have
to eat their words.” He smirked.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But then he sat down directly
opposite me, placed the file between us on the table, suddenly all solemn and
businesslike. He glanced at his pocket watch once more before pocketing it,
seeming more like a nervous habit than anything else.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He cleared his throat. “Charles,” I
cringed at that name, “I know this is difficult, but I really need you to tell
me what happened, anything you can remember.” He leaned forward. “Everything
that happened before, right up until the moment you called the police.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I slowly shook my head, tears
filling and, just as quickly, falling from my eyes. “I-I can’t.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Detective Sean looked pained. “Do
you think you could try? I’m going to be here, and I’ll help you every step of
the way. Whatever you say could help us find the </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">bastard—pardon my language—who </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> murdered your
parents in such a gruesome manner.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I remained stoically silent, the
detective got up and tentatively sat beside me on the couch, slung an arm
around my shoulders. “I’ll make sure whoever did this is brought to justice. I
promise you. But I need your help. Do you think you could?” He prompted,
gently.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I took in a shuddered breath, and
lied.</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Detective Sean held my hand as he
led me towards the lobby. A grey-haired matronly woman stood waiting, her eyes
looking over every inch of me, like a worried mother hen. Strange, since I have
never met this woman before in my life.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She hugged me, so tightly I couldn’t
breathe. “Poor baby, oh you poor baby,” she sobbed. She ran her knobbly hands
up and down my back; I stiffened.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hold on a sec, buddy, let me talk
to Mrs. Lee for a bit. Then she’ll take you home.” He kneeled in front of me,
like that other officer did before, and looked me straight in the eye.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Don’t be afraid, okay? I’ll take
care of everything. In the meantime, Mrs. Lee will take good care of you while we
figure things out. Okay, buddy?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I nodded, silent, eyes downcast.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the detective and Mrs. Lee spoke
in hushed tones in the corner of the lobby, I shuffled around listlessly. Then I
spotted a ladybug crawling along the edge where the floor meets the wall. How often
do you see one? I inched closer, lifted my foot, and stepped on it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Come along, Charles. Let’s go home.”
I frowned at the mention of that name again. I hated it, because it sounded so
old-fashioned. I had always preferred Chuck, but Donna and Rob insisted on
calling me that stupid name anyway. It annoyed me to no end.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mrs. Lee took my hand and we walked
towards the main entrance. Detective Sean gave a quick wave, but I turned away,
trying to look as upset as I should, considering the circumstances. <i>I’m recently orphaned</i>, I told myself, <i>so I should act like it</i>. I had to keep up
the pretences. The stuttering, the trembling, the crying. At least for a while.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As Mrs. Lee and I drove off in her
humble old car, she glanced at me and hesitantly spoke. “I’m really so sorry
about your parents, Charles. Nobody deserves that.”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked out the window, let the
tears flow, made sure Mrs. Lee saw. Who knows what counts as “deserving” of
such a death? Maybe they were liars and cheaters? Or maybe they called me ‘Charles’
one too many times? Who is to know?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A flash of Donna and Rob’s faces,
their mouths rounded in wide ‘O’s, as I stabbed them over and over again. Their
looks of shock and betrayal, of not understanding. Then their gradually weak
resistance and struggle as their blood and life seeped out of them. The thrill,
the adrenaline rush!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This time, I hid a smile, made sure
Mrs. Lee never saw. I just had to be careful. I already had the detective and
now Mrs. Lee eating out of the palm of my hands. After all, I’m only a helpless
six-year-old orphaned boy, a victim. If I keep this up, I just might be able to
get away with it. I’ll be safe.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE END</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-GB"></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: right;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-size: x-small;">©
COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2014</span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-40173117063066408902014-04-26T19:41:00.000+08:002014-04-26T19:41:06.231+08:00Last Moments (MH370)<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">by Lisa Kwan</span></i></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’ll probably die. We’ll all probably die, never to get out of this
alive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sounds on the aircraft are
deafening. I can hear screams, wailing, babies crying, prayers muttered in languages
I don’t know, to deities and gods I have never known. A man is yelling at a
distraught flight stewardess, arguing about something completely meaningless at
this point. The plane is tilted somewhat downwards now; I make an effort to
keep my back against the upright seat. I tighten my seatbelt, and then
unintentionally allow a chuckle to escape my lips from the absurdity of it all.
<i>The plane is about to go down, and I
tighten my seatbelt? How helpful.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I turn to her, sitting beside me, sobbing
hysterically; squeezing my hand so tight it is practically white. I turn to
her, but I can only stare helplessly. <i>What
do you say, in such circumstances? What do you say, when you know there’s not
going to be a tomorrow?</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stroke her hand, and she hiccups,
tired out. I follow the outlines of her tear-streaked face with my eyes,
doubting that I will ever see it again, after all this. I memorize every line,
every crease, every freckle, every precious mole on her face that she hated.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hear her laugh in my head, when we
shared a joke after class together, uninhibited. I see her throwing a book
right at me, frustrated, upset. I can almost feel her tears seep into my shirt,
as she pulled me closer, in despair. She treats me like a brother, invites me
on this trip with her family. But. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">I love her</span></i><span lang="EN-GB">, I think. <i>I always have.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regret hits me like a blow to the
stomach, and I wince. Why did I never tell her how I felt? Why did I smile and
nod when she called me Best Friend? Why did I keep silent while my heart cried
out?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now she turns to me, her eyes red
and hopeful. It breaks my heart. “Tell me it’s going to be okay. Tell me we’re
going to make it,” she pleads, her smooth alto breaking.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am a dreamer. We were dreamers
together. But I couldn’t be a dreamer now. There was no way. Absolutely no way.
This was the end. The pilot had already said so, just minutes earlier. I was,
in my own way, slowly accepting the harsh truth.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But what did it matter now?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She needed me to be. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I am whoever she needs me to be.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hold her face in my hands, rub my
thumb over her cheek. Stared into her eyes, so she knows I mean it. “We’re
going to make it,” I say. I lean in, and I go for it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m going to sue. I’m going to sue them all!</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My hands grip the tops of the seats on
both my sides securely, afraid of losing my balance. The stewardess girl merely
blinked at me, looking apologetic, raising her hands in front of her, as if a
shield.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn’t care. I yelled at her some
more, “What the hell is happening? I demand to know everything! We have a right
to know!” I flung my arm out towards her, hoping to intimidate her into
revealing all.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She flinched.
“Please, sir. Stay calm. Remain in your seat. Take a—”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Tell me whose fault this is? Who is
to blame? I’m going to sue them! I’m going to make damn sure the people
responsible are going to pay for this! You’re going to be sorry, I tell you.
You’re—”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I felt a tap on my shoulder. My
colleagues were all looking at me with their sorry-a** faces, like they were
giving up, resigned to their fate. This fate.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I violently shook my colleague’s
hand off. “Don’t touch me,” I growled.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He placed his hand on my shoulder
again, firmly. “Just stop. Stop it,” he whispered. I faced the stewardess girl
again, rared and ready, but she was now crumpled on the floor of the aisle, in tears.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Please,” he squeezed my arm, ever
so slightly.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My shoulders sank and my head
suddenly felt heavy, all the fight gone out of me like the air out of a
balloon. <i>He’s right. What’s the point?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I held my head in my hands as I
collapsed on the armrest of my aisle seat. I abruptly remembered how I had paid
extra to select this particular seat on the plane. Over my numerous business
trips, I had developed a preference for aisle seats. I liked being able to look
all the way up or down the empty aisle, just by leaning a little over. Observe
the flight attendants chatting at the end of it, notice the expensive branded
shoes that were jutting out and wonder about the kind of person who owned them.
A useless hobby, really.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I glanced at my colleague beside me,
staring hopelessly at his phone. I knew they’d all been trying, but to no
avail. There just wasn’t a signal. I hesitated, then took my phone out from my
shirt pocket. The screen lit up at my touch, and the faces of my wife and
2-month old son gazed back at me; the former, smiling widely, the latter,
scrunched up, as if he had tasted something sour.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These first couple of months with
the baby had been awkward. I didn’t know what to do, most of the time. Of
course Mum and Mother were both there, doting over their first grandchild. So I
would slyly slink away when everyone was busy. But when the wife eventually
caught me, she had forced me to hold him. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remembered thinking how small he
was, this little bundle I cradled against my chest. I traced his tiny nose with
my finger and, to my surprise, he had grabbed my pinky. With his tiny hands,
his tiny fingers, I could feel him saying, <i>Daddy,
I’m here.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remembered being overwhelmed by
this sense of excitement, at that moment. <i>From
this moment on, I would get to hear this tiny creature’s first words, see his
first steps. I would get to watch him grow up, become a man. I would get to
know him, my own flesh and blood, my son.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two months. I only had two months.
Not nearly enough time. Not at all.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The screen turned black, and I
slowly closed my eyes, let the tears fall. Resigned.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Daddy is so sorry.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. Take a deep breath. Like they
taught us. That’s it.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stumbled along the aisle,
attending to as many panic-stricken passengers as I could. “Stay calm,” I kept
calling out, to no one in particular. Because no one seemed to be listening.
Nobody cared anymore.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had just stopped the young woman
in 23B from attempting to strangle herself with a brightly-coloured silk scarf.
A stout middle-aged man had to help me hold her down because she had become
aggressive. I touched my right cheek lightly and it stung where she had
scratched me. I could already feel the swelling, a minute throbbing. <i>I must look like shit</i>, I thought. <i>If she had made more permanent damage, I’d
have clawed that bitch’s face off!</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wondered absentmindedly if my
husband would notice the scratch.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Actually, it still feels awkward
referring to him as my <i>husband</i>. We
were newlyweds, had had a lovely ceremony just three months ago. Though we were
only recently man and wife, we’d been dating for <i>years</i> before that, almost a lifetime. At our wedding, he told me I
didn’t look as fat in my dress as at the last wedding we had gone to together,
which was his brother’s a couple of years before. And I told him that I’d be
glad to pay for his funeral immediately after our wedding. He quipped that our
‘til death do us part’ was truly brief indeed. <i>Why did I marry such an idiot</i>, I thought, smiling, then wondered
where my tears had come from.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I spied an elderly woman, still
carefully seated in her seat in 36E amidst all the chaos, crying silently into
her shawl and, instinctively, I pulled a tissue out from the pocket of my
uniform blouse and tentatively handed it to her. She didn’t even look up, but
nodded her thanks. I had not even taken two steps before I was shoved, hard,
and almost fell backwards.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You! You must know something! What
did that good-for-nothing pilot say? What did he tell you?!” A man, eyes red
and blazing, stood towering over me as I shrank back. Afraid of yet another
physical confrontation, this time with a strong, angry man, I put my hands up,
between us.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What the hell is happening? I
demand to know everything! We have a right to know!” He was raving now,
flinging his arm a little too crazily. <i>Stay
calm, take a deep breath</i>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Please, sir. Stay calm. Remain in
your seat. Take a—”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Tell me whose fault this is?” He
cut me off, stepping forward again. Desperately, I looked to some of the other
passengers who were looking on for help.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You’re going to be sorry, I tell
you. You’re—”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sorry.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn’t hear what happened next.
All I heard, as I slid to the floor, was the captain’s hoarse voice, almost a
whisper, as he spoke to me and the rest of the flight crew in the cockpit,
before the situation had become bad.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m so sorry.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I doubt we understood the technical
jargon he was explaining to us, what was really wrong with the plane. But all
of us solemnly nodded anyway, as if we did. No one had any questions, because
the captain’s face said it all: there was nothing we could do. Except to stay
calm, he said. Keep the passengers calm. And that became our final, ultimate
mission.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I let the tears I’d been holding
back flow.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">I love you,</span></i><span lang="EN-GB"> my husband had blown me a
kiss as he dropped me off at the airport. I had playfully pouted, pretending to
sulk over something I cannot even remember now.<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m glad I had you.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">***</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why me? Why me, God? This is so unfair!</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we received the news over the
intercom, when they couldn’t hide it from us any longer, panic broke out, to
say the least. People started getting up, crying, searching for friends, family
on the plane.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me? I was furious. Furious at how
unfair life is, how unfair God is. I will be 79 years old this May, and I have
never been to a doctor. Never had a single health problem all my life, not even
a cavity. Friends are dropping like flies around me: cancer, heart attacks. Not
me. People were both shocked and envious of me, saying I was as healthy as a
horse.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was younger, I was poor as
dirt but stubborn as hell. I made it to the top, but not without spilling blood,
sweat and tears. I had thousands of employees under me, and I knew I had to be
ruthless and cold if I wanted to protect everything I had accomplished,
everything I had earned. I became one of the youngest, most successful female
presidents in the country, and managed to retire at forty. And with the money
I’d saved, and the money still coming in, I was set for life. I travelled the
world, saw the sights, experienced a whole lot of experiences that I’m sure
only a handful could say they have. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I
felt like it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But to die helplessly on a cursed plane? It’s injustice, that’s what
it is!<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still had so many things I wanted
to do! I’m not done <i>living</i>. I’m not
done. It’s not time.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out of the corner of my eye, a young
couple to my far right was kissing. It was amusing, really, because I could see
the boy’s hand trembling slightly, and the girl was hiccupping in between
kisses, making him smile through his kisses.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I looked away, feeling embarrassed
all of a sudden, as if <i>I</i> was the one
intruding on their private moment, when it was <i>their </i>PDA intruding on mine. I tried to scoff and be annoyed, but I
looked down into my lap, clasped my hands together. Tried to hold back the
tears that were assaulting my eyes.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is this feeling? Regret?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was successful. And my success had
meant I had to step on many to get to where I am. I imagined vague faces of
friends, lovers, who had come and gone, because I had pushed them away, no,
driven them away. I had no need for them, neither did I need a family. The very
idea that a woman’s lot in life was to get married and raise a family was
abhorrent to me. <i>Ridiculous. Would I have
the success I had now if I had people holding me back, if I were taking care of
an egotistical male and a screaming baby? Definitely not!</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet, I couldn’t hold them back
anymore, the tears. I lifted my shawl to my face and clenched my teeth together,
absolutely refusing to allow a single noise that sounded like a sob out.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A female flight attendant walked by
me, paused, and swiftly passed me a piece of tissue. I was so embarrassed that
I could not look up, though I was grateful. My shawl wasn’t very water-absorbent.
As I hurriedly wiped my running nose, I almost jumped out of my skin when a man
started yelling. The poor girl had been fiercely pushed, and she looked shocked
more than anything else.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I turned away, trying to stay out of
business that wasn’t mine. But it was hard not to overhear when the man was
shouting like that. Nevertheless, I identified with his anger, his frustration,
his wanting someone to blame; and because I did, I knew, deep down, the
hopelessness, the despair, the loneliness.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The girl begged him to calm down,
but he continued shouting, flinging his arm about like a lunatic. I silently
watched the girl crumple to the floor, sobbing. And I silently watched the man
eventually quiet down, take out his phone, stare at it with such pain in his
eyes.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This time, I forced myself to turn
away for real. It really was too painful to watch. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wonder how they felt at this
moment, with impending death looming before us like the vast cold black Indian ocean.
Anger? Regret? Sorrow? Love? They probably had family and loved ones who were
waiting for them back home, who would now wait in vain.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sudden realization hit me, stronger
than ever before in my entire life, raw, and this time, undeniable. <i>I am alone</i>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the aircraft shook even more
violently, signalling imminent impact, my last thought was:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Would anyone miss me?</span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE END</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In memory of the 239 passengers and
crew on flight MH370 departing from KL and bound for Beijing, China that is
thought to have disappeared over the Indian Ocean on the 8<sup>th</sup> of
March, 2014. Investigations concluded that there were no survivors; debris and
crash site are yet to be found. Without the black box, there is no way of
telling what happened during the last moments on the plane. This is merely what
the author imagines. Hearts grieve for those lost on MH370. <b>You </b></span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>will </b><i><b>be missed.</b> </i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>DISCLAIMER: Characters in the story are fictitious, but were
inspired by real people based on passenger profiles released in the media.</i></span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-29945184795935889212014-04-03T20:08:00.000+08:002014-04-08T22:18:51.402+08:00Pee's Ostrich<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>by Lisa Kwan</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Ostrich Pee (April)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deadline: 2nd May 2014</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The phone rang while I was on the
toilet, and I cursed under my breath. “Can’t a man take a dump in peace?” I
muttered, as I hurriedly sprayed some water on my buttocks with the bidet and
pulled my shorts up. I considered for a second whether I should wash my hands
or get the phone first, but when the phone rang again, I decided on the latter.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Hello?” I answered, breathless from
my short sprint from the toilet to the living room.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Pee, my boy! How’s my favourite
nephew doing?” my uncle’s booming voice reverberated even through the phone.
And I hated that nickname (Pee for P). Of course, my actual
name—Purushothaman—wasn’t that much better, but...</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You there, Pee? Can you hear me?
Pee? PEE?”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I blame my parents.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Yeah, I’m here,” I sighed.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Damn this place, lousy reception,
can’t even get a decent signal.” </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wondered where my uncle was at
that moment. He was a weird one, my uncle. Always had weird tastes, weird
hobbies. I never had a clear idea what he did for a living, but he was earning
the big bucks. Travelled all over the world—Europe, Asia, Middle East. My mum
never really understood him but she cared for him anyway, like an elder sister
would. He was always grateful for that; which is probably why he calls me his
favourite nephew, although I’m his only one.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Anyway, I got a present for ya,
you’re gonna love it!” His voice literally shivered with excitement. Inwardly,
I groaned.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“No, no, Uncle. It’s okay. I’m
still....enjoying your last gift. Really.” He had sent me a life-size stone
statue of Pope John Paul II from his visit to the Vatican, whose creepy
stone-eyed face stares at me in the yard every time I come home. I’d hide it in
the basement or give it away to the garbage disposal people, but Uncle Das has
a habit of dropping by uninvited and taking offence when his gifts are not “appreciated”;
which was why I was forced to accept the Mayan god salt and pepper shakers, now
sitting cheekily on my dining table.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why can’t he just get me generic
touristy key chains and fridge magnets?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We bounced back and forth on it for
a while before I finally gave in. I didn’t really have a choice anyway, unless
I wanted another set of weird salt and pepper shakers to join the Mayan-god
ones in addition to...whatever present he had in store for me this time.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The crate arrived on a Saturday
morning.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The delivery guys seemed almost
gleeful to leave the massive box with me as they got into the truck and drove away,
leaving me gaping in shock and clutching the sealed envelope my Uncle Das had
so kindly left me. <i>What, it comes with
instructions now?</i> I thought miserably.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I cautiously walked towards the
curious thing, afraid of what was contained within it. Was it another life-size
statue? Maybe of Lord Ganesha this time? And that’s when I noticed the holes carved
on the box, in three neat rows on each side. I froze. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Was it...alive?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Frantically, I tore open Uncle Das’s
letter and read it, my hands trembling slightly.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My boy, my
favourite nephew, P,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">This is a gift I hope—no, I </span></i><span lang="EN-GB">know<i>—you will love. I got one for myself many
years ago and it changed my life. Ozzy is a magnificent creature whom you will
come to realize is one you cannot live without. She makes a great companion,
and if you treat her well, she will do the same for you. Take care of her.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-GB">p.s. Ozzy
requires a lot of water, and her urine is </span></i><span lang="EN-GB">very
important.<i> Make sure you collect it, and
keep it safe.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Uncle
Das</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even after reading the letter over
and over again, I had no clue what on earth Uncle Das was talking about, or why
he had sent me some live “creature”, magnificent or otherwise. Was this some
belated April Fools’ joke? What, Ozzy? And her pee was “very important”? The
hell?!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I finally looked up and spied a very
large, very black eye peering at me through the breathing holes of the crate.
It blinked, showing off long lavish eyelashes.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn’t know what to do. But I
grabbed some tools from the garage and started prying open the crate door, all
the while conscious of the movements Ozzy was making inside, as if she were
anxious to be let out of the confined wooden prison.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When it was finally open, and I
stepped back to give her some room, Ozzy emerged from the darkness within and
stood proudly, at more than a head taller than I. She had strange black star
tattoos on each of her eyes that reminded me of KISS’s Gene Simmons. Her neck
was long and slender, her feathers almost sleek—a majestic, regal ostrich. She
stared at me, batted her eyelashes and cocked her head, as if saying, “So...”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I wish Uncle Das had sent me a
life-sized Lord Ganesha instead.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*** </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Frustrated, I threw the porcelain
statue of a Japanese shinigami that Uncle had given me against the wall,
shattering it into pieces. I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain to Uncle
Das when he saw it missing from my mantelpiece the next time he came around,
but I sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to care. The crash startled Ozzy, who
started pacing around in circles in the yard, going as far as her ankle leash
would allow her. When she realized the sound was only momentary, she stood up straight,
her neck stretched out as high as it could, glared at me, and grunted, as if
annoyed.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I ignored her. She can grunt and
glare at me all she liked. It’s not like she was helping any.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It has been more than a week, and
I’d tried just about everything. And Uncle Das’s sudden radio silence was both
suspicious and infuriating. His letter left nothing but Ozzy’s pee as the <i>only</i> clue as to what I was supposed to
do. I’d done as he’d asked; I’d fed Ozzy, bathed her, gave her a whole lot of
clean water to drink. I’d even speak pleasantly to her, in case that was what
was meant to “treat her well”.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And of course, collected her urine.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Large 5-litre mineral water bottles
containing the ochre-coloured liquid were arranged haphazardly in a corner of
my living room. Various containers and several measuring cups were tossed around
the room angrily after countless failed attempts. But they weren’t really <i>failed</i> so much as <i>non</i>-<i>responsive</i>, since I
had no idea what I was supposed to achieve in the first place. However, nothing
happening whatsoever couldn’t be what my uncle had meant. But with every
failure, I wished my Uncle would die a different form of a horrible and gruesome
death.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like an obsessed scientist, I
couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and had even forgone work while ignoring
colleagues’ repeated calls and texts, desperately trying to figure out what is
so special about Ozzy’s pee. At first, I was all over the place. Randomly
dousing items with it, or dipping objects into it without caring about the
amount or the manner in which it was done. When I realized I was getting
nowhere, I decided to approach the matter at hand with a scientific eye.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I first decided on one method:
dousing. The constant variable had to be Ozzy’s urine. The independent variable
would constitute the amount of the liquid, which I varied using the
different-sized containers, measuring cups and even droppers. Another
independent variable would be the object or the material that I would test it
on. I’d tried everything: everyday household items like my coffee table, my
dining table, my plush sofa (I could cry thinking about getting it cleaned), my
wooden chairs, the plastic stools, my car keys, my house keys, my favourite
Oakley sunglasses; even paper, newspaper, cardboard, thick cards, recycled
paper, envelopes; my clothes, which I tried with different materials too, like
silk, leather, cotton, denim, cashmere, even my mother’s lovely <i>batik</i> (she is going to kill me).</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’d also left the liquid in a container
on its own, hoping it might transform into...something, somehow. Maybe I wasn’t
supposed to do anything <i>to</i> it or <i>with</i> it. Just, leave it be. But the little
measuring cup containing it is still sitting by the kitchen sink, already
collecting fine dust. Regardless, everything, I carefully and painstakingly
documented in my notes.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course, I couldn’t rule out
ingesting it, or dousing <i>myself</i> with
it, could I? A true scientist had to consider all possibilities, and...those
were possibilities. I had taken a pail of Ozzy’s pee to the bathroom with me,
and shut my eyes and pinched my nose as I scooped it up with a <i>koleh</i> and let it rain “golden showers”
over me. I kept repeating, “In the name of science, in the name of science,”
but it comforted me none, because Nothing Happened. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, the last straw was when I had finally raised a full
mug to my lips and drained it, after one sip and several sips of the liquid had
achieved nothing. I spent the next couple of hours camped out by the toilet,
throwing up. Each time I began to feel a little better, I’d only need to <i>remember</i> what I had just done to start
gagging and dry heaving again.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What the hell am I doing? I’m
drinking and bathing in ostrich pee, acting like a crazy, mad scientist, about
to lose my job...and for what? For what?! I have achieved nothing but
urea-scented belongings and a sick stomach. For all I know, Uncle Das was mad
or senile when he sent me this ostrich, telling me her pee was “very
important”. For all I know, Uncle Das might be rolling with laughter, somewhere,
from the brilliant prank he’d played on his gullible nephew.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I give up.</span></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My eyes began
to tear up from the fatigue and the throbbing in my head was beginning to sound
like African tribal drums. I collapsed onto my once-plush now urea-scented
sofa, accidentally knocking over a measuring cup with Ozzy’s pee on the coffee
table in front of me. I had no energy left but to stare as the dark liquid
pooled on the table, soaking my research notes, and enveloping my favourite
cork coasters. From the yard, I could hear Ozzy’s deep booming sounds as she called
to me to refill her feed trough. But I just couldn’t care less anymore. I just
couldn’t... My eyes fluttered shut and I welcomed the blackness.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; padding: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-GB">***</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-GB">Who left the blinds up?</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;"> I remember
thinking before I struggled to open my eyes. The light was like a stab to my
eyes, they hurt so much. I tried to sit up, but my entire body felt like it was
on fire. Days of little food, drink and rest had finally taken its toll. It was
a feat even to lift my hands to my eyes to rub them. But when I did, and I
blinked my eyes open, that blinding glare hit me once more. I groaned.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the source of the light was not
the furious sun, shining in through the clear windows opposite me as I’d
assumed, because I could see that it was now pitch black outside, probably
hours since I’d collapsed on the sofa. What was really shining, without a
doubt, on my coffee table...were my cork coasters.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wait. What? Cork coasters?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I shot up like I’d sat on something
scalding hot, and grabbed my coasters. True enough, they were shining the
colour of a delicious, mesmerizing...gold.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gold.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I gasped.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I took the coasters in my hand and,
tentatively, as I’d always seen in the movies or as athletes did with their
medals, bit the corner of it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stared down in amazement at the
marks my teeth had left behind on the surface of my coasters. There was no base
metal underneath, and it was too soft to be an alloy. So it had to be...</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pure gold.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coasters made of <i>pure gold</i>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I gently laid my precious gold
coasters down on the coffee table to rub my hands with glee. Gold. GOLD! So <i>this</i> was the secret to Ozzy’s pee! But
why, how...? Cork. It was cork. The mysterious secret ingredient had to be
cork! Soaked in Ozzy’s pee, cork coasters would turn into gold coasters.
Therefore, in theory, blocks of cork would turn into...</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My mind’s gears began to churn and
grind, projecting the endless possibilities. Poor Ozzy started grunting again,
famished. She even started pecking at innocent John Paul II’s head, who could
do nothing to defend himself. Feeling lightheaded, I walked over to her and slowly
stroked her long, slender neck, soothing her.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m rich, I thought.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m. Rich.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’M. STINKING. RICH.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I smiled like a Cheshire Cat, as I cooed
to Ozzy. She stared down at me with her tattooed eyes, batted her eyelashes and
cocked her head, as if saying, “So...”</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE END</b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">© COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2014</span></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-27058248865597461962014-03-28T18:13:00.000+08:002014-03-28T18:13:06.804+08:00My Darling Cat<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>By Lisa Kwan</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Love and Lost (March)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deadline: 3rd April 2014</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Written on: 28th March 2014)</span></blockquote>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My darling Catherine,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I am
writing this in the hopes that somehow, somewhere, you might read this. I feel
that voice pods and recordings, or even holograms still do not hold the same
kind of intimacy that comes from a lovingly crafted handwritten letter, on soft
parchment carefully chosen, enclosing the faint fragrance of the writer’s
scent. Because I want you to know me, to remember me, to have a keepsake of me,
long after even the technology we know is gone.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The
day I saw you was the day I lived. Truly lived. You were so beautiful, so, so
beautiful. Your skin was flawless, without blemish, perfect. Your hair was
soft, oh so soft, like the inside of a rose as they say. When I breathed in the
smell of you, I was intoxicated. Drunk in the perfume that is you, which made
me burn with this vicious desire to own you, to love you, to protect you even
with my life.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> And
when I first heard you laugh, it was like a thousand glorious bells tinkling in
my ears—the most magnificent sound. And ever since, I yearned for it, I
anxiously wished for it. Oh, what wouldn’t I do to hear you laugh? To hear that
pure unadulterated joy and happiness in a chuckle, in a giggle, as you gazed at
the world around you with such wonder, such awe?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It
was through watching you that I learned to see the beauty in every little thing
around me. I, like many others, have forgotten. Forgotten that the world,
despite its fast pace and dark realities and loneliness and pain, still held
much love, much compassion, much kindness. You showed me that. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I see you now, as you run ahead of
me during our walks together, soaking in the sun rays shining on your face,
reflected in your smile. I see you as you turn back to face me, your sweet
dress swirling about you, your eyes imploring me to hurry up; your hands
stretched out to me, to hold, to guide, to keep. I call you your pet name, Cat,
and you reward me with your infamous smirk. I see you in my lab, cheekily
scribbling on my research notes, laughing out loud at my annoyance. And knowing
I cannot stay mad at you for long, you sneak kisses on my cheek, and I am
appeased. Days such as these plague my dreams, every night. And I ache for you.
Such an ache it is!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Oh,
but loving you was also the most difficult thing to do! Oh, how frustrated I
often was. How you stubbornly and absolutely refused to listen to anything I had
to say, even though it was for your sake. You were selfish, sometimes uncaring.
You loved to sulk, or storm off during arguments, knowing that it killed me
inside, each time. Eventually, I’d give in, let you have your way. How could I
not? You held my heart in your hands, and I was smitten.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Every
single day with you, I know now, was a blessing, a privilege. Who would ever
know what little time we would have together? If it weren’t dreams of our
walks, our quiet times spent reading together on the couch, snuggling together
under fluffy covers, sleeping side by side with your head on my chest, or
hearing your sudden laughs, seeing your radiant smile, then it would be
nightmares; nightmares of the day it happened, of you calling out to me,
fearful, terrified, not knowing. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I didn’t hear you, couldn’t see
you. Every single time in my nightmares, I am behind the wheel and I am looking
and looking, but I do not see you. I tell myself you are there, but I still
cannot find you. I cannot control my body as I push the button that sets the
hovercar into reverse, as I increase the speed. My mind is screaming
“NOOOOOOOO!!!” but I can do nothing. The hovercar moves backward, and as I set
it down to park, I hear that horrifying bump, feel the hovercar sway as it
settles on uneven ground, crushing you beneath it. Sometimes, I hear your
screams, sometimes it is just agonizing silence, the excruciating realization
of what I had done. Then I jolt awake, perspiring profusely, but I am really
dead. I died when you did.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have tried to change the past,
believe me. A friend who also worked at the university owed me, and I cashed
it, gained access to a time displacement device. I went back to time before it
happened, numerous times. Yet, in each time, you leave me. No matter what I do,
however hard I try, however far back in time I go, I cannot save you. I cannot
stop you from leaving me behind, in a world without you. I have researched and
studied and experimented, obsessively, with God knows how many alternatives,
but the results are the same. My friend tells me it is an <i>anomaly</i>, that in certain circumstances, it is just fate, God’s
will. That there is nothing I can do.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How can this be, when I swore to
love you and protect you all my life? I would gladly give my life in exchange
for yours if I could, to grant you more than the 6 years you spent on this
earth. How can I call myself a father, if I cannot even save my little girl? When
<i>I</i> was the cause of your death? I
still hear you calling me, “Daddy, Daddy!” and it breaks my heart. How can I
accept this, Cat, that you are gone? How can I live, knowing what I have done? <i>I killed you. </i>Forgive me, forgive me,
please.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I do not care what my friend has
told me—I believe you are out there, somewhere, in some time. Maybe in some
alternate universe that we have yet to uncover, you are alive and well. You are
still beautiful, still lovely, still Daddy’s little girl. My friend tells me
that it is possible to send things to parallel universes, through the Interspace-time
Portal, strategically located at weakened points in the overlaps between
worlds. So I desperately hope and pray that, somehow, this letter reaches you,
to let you know how much I loved you, no, <i>love</i>
you, even across space and time. And to beg your forgiveness, though I do not
deserve it. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love you, Cat. Daddy loves you
with all his heart.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"> Goodbye.</span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE END</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoFooter" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>© COPYRIGHT OF LISA KWAN 2014</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4700985452424207168.post-70894692901544013642014-03-28T18:06:00.001+08:002014-03-28T18:06:12.722+08:00Love and Lost<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>By
Lisa Kwan</b></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Written for: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/676435812401761/" target="_blank">The Writer's Tower</a></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Theme: Love and Lost (March)</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deadline: 3rd April 2014</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Written on 27th March, 2014) </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"> </span></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashley watched the blood flowing
pink into the drain in the bathtub, in the form of pretty swirls that reminded Ashley
of cotton candy sold at travelling carnivals. Ashley hated cotton candy. Never
liked anything sweet, really. Just thinking about it made Ashley mad again, and
Ashley took the blade and continued carving on the pale insides of the arms,
watching the bright red blood emerge slowly from the cuts and then smear as it
mixed with the water from the shower. Ashley stared unseeing down her chest and
naked breasts and questioned why her life was the way it is.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashley had always been a tomboy.
From the time she knew that little boys had little ‘pee-pee’s and little girls
didn’t, she wanted to be one. She wondered why God gave them something a little
extra; something that gave them the ability to pee without getting your rear
either wet or cold from the toilet. She hung around with the boys, ran
alongside them in mud races, caught the biggest fighting spiders that were no match
for all the others, climbed the highest trees on dares and then paraded her
broken arm like a trophy to the guys, whose cast they were all eager and
jealous to sign on.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Of
course, she did have female friends. But more often than not, they treated her
like an older brother; a brother who was cool and always fun to be around. If
you wanted a good time, or a good laugh, Ashley was your guy. Or rather, girl.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> But
high school was different. High school was bigger, brighter and had a ton of
kids from neighbouring housing areas she never grew up with or knew every
little embarrassing detail of. Back home, Ashley was cool and popular. Everyone
in school knew her by name. Now, however, she was nobody. Old friends left and
joined new circles, formed new identities, even. Suddenly, Ashley was all
alone—unnoticed, unwanted. Drowning in a sea of vacant faces, Ashley realized
that she wasn’t special or outstanding in any way. All she wanted was someone
to notice her.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Then
she met Chris.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Chris
was three years older than her, a senior, and always wore a leather jacket to
school. Sure, she had seen Chris around school before, chatting animatedly with
friends on the way to the canteen, or heading towards the school labs, but
never took a second glance. Until that fateful day.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It
was the most embarrassing day of Ashley’s life. I’m sure every girl might have
experienced it once in her lifetime. Ashley had been feeling uneasy all day
that day, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and wondering silently why her
chair felt like she was sitting on damp grass. When the teacher left, and the
class got up to send him off, Ashley heard a burst of laughter from behind her,
followed by others joining in. “Oh my God, she’s got her period! She’s bleeding
all over the chair!”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Immediately,
Ashley’s heart sank. She whirled around and realized that the “damp grass”
she’d been sitting on was actually the dampness from a blood-soaked pinafore,
now stained dark red. Hot, embarrassed tears fell from her eyes as she looked
around frantically for help from her classmates. By now, the entire class, boys
and girls alike, was crowded around her, laughing and pointing. None, not one,
offered help or sympathy. Some boys shouted, “You’re disgusting!” “Can’t you
turn off your tap?” Jerry, whose mother used to bake and give out the best
chocolate chip cookies in their old school, started chanting, “Period! Period!
Period!” The rest somehow thought it funny, or at all clever, and followed
suit.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Ashley
felt dizzy, and pushed past her classmates and out of the classroom, wiping her
tear-filled eyes with the back of her hand. Of course, for the few seconds she
wasn’t looking, she ran right into Chris, who stumbled back a few steps from
the force of her. When Ashley looked up, there was Chris, looking surprised,
albeit a little winded. “Hey, there. What’s the rush?” Chris smiled, pushing a
stray strand of hair from the face, which then showed concern after noticing Ashley’s
tear-stained face. “Oh. Are you okay?” Chris’s hand was placed on Ashley’s
shoulder, and without understanding why, if it was the kind eyes, or the gentle
voice, or the soft touch, Ashley cried all the more, eyes downcast,
embarrassed. Hesitantly, Ashley turned around showing Chris the back of her
skirt.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Without
a single word, Chris took Ashley firmly by the hand, and led her to the school’s
Health Room. Chris stayed with her as the teacher-in-charge anxiously flitted
about Ashley, muttering about getting a change of clothes. Chris accompanied Ashley
to the washroom once more, to wash the dried blood off and change into the
spare set of PE attire. Chris had no reason to be there with her, but Chris
was.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> They
became close friends, despite the age difference. Ashley didn’t have many
friends, but Chris felt like all she would ever need. Chris looked out for Ashley
in school ever since The Incident. Nobody dared make fun of Ashley since, after
the boys who teased Ashley and called her “Period” mysteriously found their
bags thrown into the school pool. Chris and Ashley often had lunch together,
walked to the bus stop home from school together, and talked on the phone
almost every day. They’d send each other silly photos, or funny texts, talk
about their secrets. But there was one Ashley could not tell—that she was in
love with Chris.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> “What are you doing?” Ashley asked,
shocked, as Chris calmly took a blade out and cut into the flesh just beneath Chris’s
own wrist. Chris swiftly took Ashley’s hand and did the same, Ashley cringing
as the beads of blood formed along the invisible line left by the penknife.
Then Chris pressed their bleeding wrists together, and stared so hard into Ashley’s
eyes that she lost all speech. “Now we’re joined by blood, Ashley. By blood.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashley couldn’t explain why she felt
the way she did. She just did. She felt things for Chris that she had never
felt before, never expected to. She was confused for a long while, because she
didn’t think it was possible. Wasn’t Chris just a good friend? Her best friend
maybe, at most? But Ashley imagined Chris’s gentle hands on her, touching her
in all the right places. She wished for Chris’s voice to be whispered in her
ears, Chris’s breath merged with hers in a deep kiss, Chris’s lips on that
sensitive spot at the base of her neck, right down to between her breasts.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashley could take it no more. She
had to know. Did Chris feel the same?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashley’s vision came back into
focus, and the repeated crimson words “NO” on the insides of her arms gazed
back at her. She looked further down her arm and barely made out “FREAK”, and
“DISGUSTING”, the words Chris had spat at her when she had finally worked up
the courage to confess her feelings for her. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m not a freak! God, what is wrong with you? All those times we
were together, did you fantasize I’d want you like a guy would? Disgusting.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ashley’s vision blurred as her eyes
filled with tears once more. She traced the scar where Chris had once said they
were joined by blood. Then she grabbed the penknife again and angrily slashed
at the words, at their shared scar, until they were no more. They were no more.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>THE END</b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">© COPYRIGHT OF LISA
KWAN 2014</span></b></span></div>
Lizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00162988536992087007noreply@blogger.com0