On Eagles' Wings

Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Euphoria Weekly Visits by Lisa Kwan 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.             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...

Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Phoenix Garden of Daisies By Lisa Kwan 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. 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’d better get this done soon . 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. Don’t think of anything else , I tell myself. Don’t think . 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...

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower   Theme: Irony (March) Medal Words: seductive, goblet 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? But she had to tell them; she just had to. Probably at the end, when they had less time to....kill her. 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. Finally, it was the last ten minutes of the lesson. She had to do it—now or never. “Guys, there's something I have to tell you. It's about your test.” The class immediately quietened, and she could see (and somehow feel ) all eyes on her. Her heart began to thump again, an erratic drum beat in her ears. “Th...

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Unromantic (February)   Medal words: candelabra, eccentric ***  She was annoyed. Despite it being the morning, she had awoken in darkness. 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. 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. There was plenty to do before her husband returned home. But at that very moment, her stomach growled. “Melyra,” she said. A young g...

by Lisa Kwan Written for: The Writer's Tower Theme: Sanguine (January) Bonus words: "saucepan" or "croissant" 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. 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. 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. Merely a few steps later, a guard heade...

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