tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53356496799869005052024-02-20T00:54:39.132+08:00A Writer's SparkCreativity starts with a single spark. Random. Bright. Unique. Eternal.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-61538664311254306392013-08-11T20:03:00.000+08:002013-08-11T20:15:19.621+08:00The Cycle<b><br /></b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4tKsfnVNBTH99SsrYxXqT0SYzD2At3oPEhkq0UX1CEoplX5ZRuL4jjmdg84YxeNeellptQqNC6Yzse7ubhS94pv8eRGcjVvrKrIjeKOtBBW9iyPoMgN63v7eKDfqqfFhJjZ665Y6vo0aj/s1600/o-CASSINI-EARTH-900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4tKsfnVNBTH99SsrYxXqT0SYzD2At3oPEhkq0UX1CEoplX5ZRuL4jjmdg84YxeNeellptQqNC6Yzse7ubhS94pv8eRGcjVvrKrIjeKOtBBW9iyPoMgN63v7eKDfqqfFhJjZ665Y6vo0aj/s640/o-CASSINI-EARTH-900.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Day 1</b><br />
So many things to fix and I figured out I have no time to rest. Whatever happened to the previous crew sure did a bad job maintaining this station. I need to check on the hydraulics and the solar panels since it seems buggy. Have to inform HQ that the previous crew deserves a medal. A medal for being worthless. Damn this.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 3</b><br />
The food is already getting in to me considering I know that everything is being recycled. I think I won't take a bath that often...<br />
<br />
<b>Day 9</b><br />
Finally, I saw Earth from the window. Well, kinda. Seeing that dot over the blackness of space makes me feel a little less... how should I say this... Hmm. Alone? I'm thinking that billions of people are looking at the sky, wondering what's beyond them - not knowing that I'm looking at them as just a dot.<br />
<br />
I can just... squish that dot into oblivion. I wonder if that's how God feels like doing thinking how messed up we've become.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 10</b><br />
I heard a sound near the engine room. I'm not sure what that is but it's bugging me all throughout the day. Day? Haha. The thought of the twenty four hour clock amused me. Time flies SO slowly here. You wake up and it's the same darkness. Same damn emptiness. How I wish I was sent here with at least anyone. I'd settle for a dog.<br />
<br />
Hmm nevermind. I don't want to share my recycled water with a dog. That's pretty much disgusting.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 19</b><br />
Finally fixed everything. I just need to wait for my shuttle to send me back to HQ. If only I don't have to wait for two days to receive their response. Darn! There it goes again. I have to check where *that* tapping comes from. For some reason, it's beginning to get louder and louder. Arrgh. This is b*llshit.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 23</b><br />
HQ finally replied. They said that I have to wait for seven days before they send a shuttle back home. I'm getting impatient. Seven effin days in space is like seven years in hell. And THAT tapping is going to make me nuts. Even if I boost my headset to max and listen to anything, IT'S STILL THERE!<br />
<br />
Tap... Tap... Tap... Tap... <i>Fuck</i>.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 26</b><br />
I found a door near the engine room but it's sealed tight. I already sent an inquiry to HQ because the sound has been resonating from there. Told them that the "irritating" sound seemed like a pen tapping a pan. It's really driving me crazy since it just won't stop.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 29</b><br />
I finally figured out how to open that door. Apparently, the previous crew was trying to open the same thing before he was sent back. Too bad I wasn't able to meet him back in HQ so I was able to ask him what went wrong and why he needed a replacement. Hopefully I will be able to fix this fucking tapping before my replacement gets here. I don't want him to suffer the same torment that I had. If only the new crew would see what this station looked like when I first came here, he sure would be giving me an award for fixing EVERYTHING.<br />
<br />
And yeah, it's my last day today in here. HQ's shuttle will be arriving tomorrow. <b>Finally</b>.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 1</b><br />
Fuck, what the fuck <b>happened </b>here? HQ should have told me that I would be assigned in HELL! That previous crew sure did a <b>great </b>job in making sure everything is fucking messed up! Oh well, I have to fix the panels and and the leaking hydraulics.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image taken from <a href="http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/cassini/whycassini/cassini20130722.html#.Ue3-8mQ6V74">http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/cassini/whycassini/cassini20130722.html#.Ue3-8mQ6V74</a></i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-82470509504071212282013-08-05T19:49:00.001+08:002013-08-05T19:49:01.101+08:00The Breakwater<div><p dir="ltr">I followed her to the garage as she immediately got in the car. I was lucky I got in before she started it.<br>
 <br>
“Are you still mad at me? Can we just forget what happened?”<br>
 <br>
She stared directly at the driveway as we sped off, not minding what I said. She always does this – pretending she’s not hearing anything everytime I say something that she didn’t like, or if I’m giving her crap reasons.<br>
 <br>
“Fine. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again…”<br>
 <br>
She smiled, though her thick sunglasses hid her eyes.<br>
 <br>
Okay, I told myself. That’s a start.<br>
 <br>
“I’m not just used to seeing you with other guys…” I stared outside the window as people and things passed by like a blur. “And clearly, that guy has a crush on you.”<br>
 <br>
“And why did Greta even introduce you like… Like that?” I gulped. “Like you were available or something. I was just there!”<br>
 <br>
“Good thing you left! Otherwise, I would have smacked that guy’s face off!”<br>
 <br>
“Oh Harry…” Finally, she said my name like a song. A sad one, as I can feel from her tone.<br>
 <br>
“I’m really sorry…” My plea was cut off when the car stopped. I was blinded by the sun as I’ve heard the waves crash on the breakwater.<br>
 <br>
I suddenly remembered this place. This was where I first met her. Where she almost ended her life but ended up having a new one with me…<br>
 <br>
I barely noticed that she was already out of the car, and she was already walking towards the sea wall. I tried to race towards her but she got there first, facing the horizon, over the empty seas.<br>
 <br>
“I have to let you go…”<br>
 <br>
“Wa… Wait… What?” My heart stopped, but my legs were determined to take her back, worried that she might try to do it again.<br>
 <br>
“I miss you so much… I can’t bear this anymore…”<br>
 <br>
“Bear what? For crying out loud, we’re living together!” I screamed at her as the waves were deafening, or maybe, my heart was just pounding too loud I couldn’t hear the words I was trying to say.<br>
 <br>
When I finally reached her, she was opening a jar she was holding, as she soon waved her hands as the dust floated along with the salty air. I don’t know what’s wrong with the dusts but it glimmered like diamonds when the sun’s rays hit it.<br>
 <br>
“I love you, Harry…” she murmured as tears fell on her pale cheeks.<br>
 <br>
Then it struck me.<br>
 <br>
“I love you too…” I whispered as God’s hands brought me back to the Light.</p>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-14507556240800450142013-03-05T10:30:00.000+08:002013-03-05T10:30:38.541+08:00The Valentine's DateI swear I heard her voice calling out my name amidst the incessant and mindless blabber of couples enjoying this ecstatic day inside this famous bistro. I swear, I felt the tingling sensation of the excitement that she would be back, would sit infront of me and would share the night's elevated passion, of Valentine's and all it's exorbitant offerings.<br />
<br />
But she's nowhere to be found, and again, I am a lost child in this raucous paranoia of mixed happiness and adoration. Lost in a place where all were celebrating the love they share, while I stared back, mourning of being alone.<br />
<br />
I continued sipping my wine as I ogled each occupied table - watching couples share intimate and quick kisses, mindful of not being caught by the public eye. I swear I felt resentful of not being with her today, and the fact that I even made the effort of being physically present to where I should no longer belong.<br />
<br />
I've lost her - but it seemed that I haven't given up the fight.<br />
<br />
Fight?<br />
<br />
Was there a fight?<br />
<br />
Or do I still need to consider this as a fight even if she already gave up?<br />
<br />
I loved her and I still do - with every fiber of my entirety. I can give every heartbeat, every breath, every single moment life could bless. I would let go, just to be with her - again.<br />
<br />
For six years I lived my life with her, shared every day as our love deepened, as our passion amplified to the extent that I knew my heart would cease from beating if ever we part. For six years, my life was in an aria of intense joy, of extreme contentment...<br />
<br />
Of extreme love...<br />
<br />
But suddenly, the song ended. Life played a different medley, and in an instant, I lost her.<br />
<br />
She's gone...<br />
<br />
I looked up the cloudless sky, as stars shone brightly like it never had before, wondering if she's there, looking back at me - wishing she could be with me, as I enjoyed this sumptuous dinner we usually shared together.<br />
<br />
"Happy Valentine's, my sweetheart..." as I raised my wine glass, imagining she was still with me...<br />
<br />
Then, the wind blew me a soft kiss... as my eyes closed, as my lips lingered the tormenting memory of her lips kissing mine...<br />
<br />
I swear I knew it was her...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-15757197191197056322013-03-02T08:16:00.000+08:002013-03-02T08:19:13.045+08:00The Nurse<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We finally had the chance to find a donor for his cornea transplant though he wasn't that eager about the pending operation that he will be in. His doctor assured
us, especially Dad, that it wouldn't hurt *that* much, and that it would only
take an hour to complete. Mom was scared - I know, as I can see her faking a
smile every now and then as she held Dad’s hand to comfort him that it will be
alright.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was a
Saturday afternoon when we brought him to the hospital for his scheduled
transplant and the doctor asked us to wait outside. Mom was anxious since it
was the first time Dad had to be brought to the hospital since time immemorial.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
After an
hour and a half, Dad came out with both of his eyes covered with eye pads. He
knew Mom would be watching so I thought his smile was just to assure Mom that
he was fine. The doctor told us that the operation went well, and that he was
supposed to be sent home. However, they needed to make sure that everything
went well since the procedure they used on Dad was new so he had to stay in the
hospital for the night.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Dad wanted
to object, but Mom said that “it was fine” since she doesn't want to worry much
about Dad’s eyes getting irritated or something. The doctor said he will be removing the eye
pads the next day and made Dad promise to neither scratch nor touch his eyes to
avoid infection. Dad just nodded as he asked us to go home and rest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next
morning as we waited for the doctor, Dad seemed fine as he told me that his
nurse kept him entertained last night, how they both shared stories, and that
he was well attended to. He also told me that his nurse didn't leave his room
when he told him he was scared being alone, especially now that he couldn't see
anything.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt glad that he didn't get scared since he was basically blind, and that he had to stay on his bed all throughout the night alone trying to not touch his newly-operated eyes. I'm glad that there are still nurses who go beyond their line of service. It wasn't a long wait
until his doctor arrived and prepared Dad’s papers. He removed the eye pads and
all Dad said was his sight was “as good as new”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
While I was
signing his insurance papers as Dad waited in the lobby, I asked the nurse-on-duty
to thank the nurse who stayed with my Dad during his stay. The woman gave me a
puzzled look as she told me that there was no one with Dad last night, and that
she was the only one who was on shift since her replacement was out sick.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-28597918865530872292012-07-15T08:53:00.001+08:002012-07-16T17:59:17.078+08:00The Dollhouse"Tell me more...", Dad enthusiastically said after I showed him my recent project as he closed his laptop. It was a dollhouse made of old paper and it boasts of a foldable kitchen, living room and everything a simple house has.<br />
<br />
I was the happiest girl that afternoon as he played with me, really proud of his daughter's work. While we were playing, I looked at him and felt that I he really loved me, that I was far more important than his work.<br />
<br />
But that was years ago. I no longer play with dollhouses and dolls. I now play with numbers, I was busy with work, managing my finances and making sure I won't fail.<br />
<br />
I was at my home that Sunday afternoon working for a report I needed to submit early Monday morning when I heard my doorbell rang. I wondered if it's the neighboor as I went to get the door and was surprised to see Dad on my doorstep.<br />
<br />
I asked him to come in as he kissed me on the cheek. I asked where was Mom and he said he went here alone since he was worried why I haven't visited him lately.<br />
<br />
"I was busy with work, Pop. Deadlines, deadlines and more deadlines...", I muttered, irritated as I looked at my computer showing worksheets of unfinished business.<br />
<br />
He laughed, as my living room felt alive with his laughter.<br />
<br />
"I know how that feels like." he said as he sat comfortably in my sofa as I prepared to get him drinks and cookies.<br />
<br />
I gave my computer one last look as I decided to lock it and spend my afternoon with Dad. For some reason, his presence made me feel I can do it anyway, that I will be able to spend time on it later. <br />
<br />
Dad and I shared the cookies as he asked how I was doing and how I shouldn't forget to take care of myself. I told him I was pressured at work and that I was thinking of leaving. I mentioned I was dating Jake and his eyed widened with shock, hearing me having the time to finally date someone.<br />
<br />
"Tell me more about this Jake...", as I blushed, but felt fine afterwards as I told him I liked Jake, that he had gray eyes, that he was a business executive and that we were getting along pretty well.<br />
<br />
I grew up confident in telling Dad everything, since I knew he always listened. He listened with his heart. Mom was even jealous of him when it was Dad who first knew I already got my period. I smiled, as I remembered how Dad panicked and bought different kinds of napkins and tampons for me.<br />
<br />
"You really like this guy, huh?" Pop asked, somehow I felt he was kind of jealous. <br />
<br />
"Oh Pop...", I hugged him tight like how I used to. "You're my first love.", I assured him as I saw him smile again. <br />
<br />
"Just make sure he won't hurt you or else!", I knew it was just a joke, but deep down, he really meant it. <br />
<br />
I laughed hard at the idea of Dad giving Jake a smack in the face. I haven't laughed for the longest time and it really felt good. <br />
<br />
"I love you, Popsy.", I told him. <br />
<br />
"I love you too, Barbie doll...". He hugged me again as we were interrupted by a phone call.<br />
<br />
I asked Dad for a minute since I was waiting for a call from my staff who needed to send me a file.<br />
<br />
I answered the phone and was shocked to hear it was Mom, sobbing on the other line, rambling for words as she finally made sense, telling me that Dad just died of a heart attack.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-92072654505897795902012-07-09T20:24:00.001+08:002012-07-09T20:28:24.772+08:00The Man Who Wished He Was DeadWe had a very tiresome planning last night - and that was all that I can remember after the car I was driving with two of my friends hit a cement barrier while trying to avoid a speeding truck. The airbag popped in front of me and everything went blank.<br />
<br />
And now, I opened my eyes like I slept for a year. My hands felt heavy beneath the bandages and I couldn't move a muscle. As my sight regained, it dawned on me that I was in a hospital room, surrounded by medical equipment.<br />
<br />
I felt my face was covered with gauzes and my feet was cemented. I tried to call the nurse, but my voice seemed to be lost somewhere. <br />
<br />
"Don't try to move much, buddy." an elderly voice told me. I slowly moved my aching head to the source of the voice and found a wrinkled-face man with dark brown hair wearing a brown jacket.<br />
<br />
He smiled at me as if he knew me. I haven't seen this man as far as I can recall, but he kinda seemed familiar. <br />
<br />
"Who are you?", I asked hoarsely, with my voice finally returning. <br />
<br />
"Can't remember your old friend Timmy?", the old man answered. "Must have hit you really hard in the head, eh?"<br />
<br />
My heart skipped beating when I finally remembered the accident. I was with Timmy and Leela that night, after coordinating with a restaurant for my 26th birthday party next week!<br />
<br />
"T-timmy?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, bud. You've been asleep for such a long time. I mean a veeeeery long."<br />
<br />
"What year is it? How long was I asleep?"<br />
<br />
He stepped near me, hoping to calm me down. Oh no, no, no. I won't calm down. This was crazy.<br />
<br />
"It's 2044... You were asleep for 32 years..."<br />
<br />
32 years...? I've spent my life asleep for 32 years? <br />
<br />
I froze in panic as thoughts poured in my spinning head like an open faucet. Everything I knew and had would be probably gone. My parents, my girlfriend, my car, my job...<br />
<br />
All gone... Just because of that stupid truck driver who didn't keep his eyes on the road.<br />
<br />
32 years... <br />
<br />
Sigh...<br />
<br />
I should have died. I shouldn't have survived only to be kept alive by machines. Why didn't my family just pull the plug?<br />
<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
Now that I'm awake, what the hell was I supposed to do with my life? Feed the pigeons in the park as I wait for my pension? Wait until they send me off to a nursing home?<br />
<br />
Timmy tapped my back, as if he wanted to tell me that it will all be fine. But deep down, I knew, it will be really hard to digest.<br />
<br />
"Did Leela survive?" I inquired, hoping that she did. If she died that night, I would feel even guiltier, blaming myself even more. <br />
<br />
"Yes she did - but she died two years ago... Er, heart attack. She made me promise though..."<br />
<br />
"Promise?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. That I should make sure that I will be here when you wake up..."<br />
<br />
A tear fell from my eye as I imagined how they waited for me to wake up. Stupid body, this was all your fault. <br />
<br />
I didn't notice that I was already sobbing hard. I felt really bad for the lost time and for the people I cared most who I will never ever going to see. <br />
<br />
I was in the middle of reminiscing when the fire alarm set off. A nurse came inside my room and asked Timmy to help him immediately push my bed out of the room.<br />
<br />
My heart thumped crazy. I just woke up and I'm going to die in a hospital fire? How lucky can I get!<br />
<br />
As they pushed me out of the room, the lights went out and I heard people running. My bed stopped from moving as Timmy and the nurse were nowhere to be found. <br />
<br />
Damn, how I wish I didn't wake up...<br />
<br />
Then, there were loud bangs as the lights returned. My body trembled from fear of falling debris as paper confetti flew all over the place, as I saw Leela, the real Timmy and my parents holding a banner wishing me a happy 26th birthday.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-44794425023610345532012-07-08T07:53:00.001+08:002012-07-08T07:53:29.081+08:00The BraceletIt was a sunny Saturday morning when my husband decided to do a general cleaning of our home. To think about it, we have tons to dispose of and the storage room would need to be cleared since our 12 year old son wanted to convert the space for his gameroom.<br />
<br />
I was rummaging through boxes when I came upon my old jewelry box Mom gave me when I was still a little girl. I wiped the dirt away as I smiled behind the face mask I wore. <br />
<br />
The jewelry box automatically played a tune which made me remember my childhood in our old neighborhood where I grew up. Inside the box, I saw a handmade friendship bracelet with small wooden cubes where the letters were used to be.<br />
<br />
The bracelet reminded me of the boy I shared this with but I can't remember the name. We've all got that childhood sweetheart we thought we would eventually get married to, get kids and grow old together. I remembered how we played at the park, how we ate ice cream together, how we ran when rain fell down on our heads and how it felt like when he first kissed me.<br />
<br />
As the music stopped playing, it reminded me how I had an early wake up call that there were no happy endings. His family had to move since his Dad got accepted on a job in a different state and as kids, we obviously had no choice. We had to part.<br />
<br />
I remembered I was crying when I made the bracelets, telling him that it will eventually bring us back together. Unfortunately, time played a different medley which made me forget the tune I was used to. I grew up, met boys, had my heart broken, loved again and eventually got married.<br />
<br />
I forgot about him - until today. I stood up, went straight to the phone and dialed Mom's number, hoping that she still remembers the boy I thought I first fell in love with, wondering how he's doing and if he still remembered.<br />
<br />
The phone kept ringing, until I was cut short when Joey, my husband, surprised me from behind, hugged me hard and kissed the back of my neck as he showed me a faded bracelet with my name. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-48886937981201086032012-07-05T20:08:00.000+08:002012-07-05T22:00:49.372+08:00The WindowI can't remember how long I have been staying in this dormitory room with another college student named Tony. As far as I know, I was already here when he came here to share the room with me. I only see him during nights after classes and he wasn't the outgoing type - we rarely talked let alone do anything together like the typical roommates who eventually became good friends.<div><br />
</div><div>Weeks can pass by without even a single interaction between the two of us. As if the two of us seemed invisible - like we've learned to exist without interacting with each other. I know I can opt to move to a new room and find someone better to share the place but somehow, I got attached to this small space where we were staying. <span style="background-color: white;">The view outside seemed nostalgic and every time I looked behind the old window pane, I can see the trees waving <i>hello </i>to me. </span><span style="background-color: white;">And somehow, at the back of my mind, I might get someone who would be worse than Tony.</span></div><div><br />
</div><div>Tony and I share a double-deck bed which sometimes causes an issue between the two of us. I occupy the top bunk which is quite an inconvenience. You see, if you move just a little bit, the bed will send off a creaking sound, and he hated it. I hated it too since it sound so creepy especially at night. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Last night was very different, he yelled at me which woke me up - I was having a nightmare that time and boy I was glad he screamed at me while punching my mattress from below.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The next morning, I tried to talk to him to apologize but he just passed me by, like I <b>REALLY</b> pissed him off last night. I don't know what's wrong with me lately since I've been getting nightmares quite often. He left for school before me without saying goodbye, which wasn't new anyway.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I wasn't feeling good today so I decided not to go to school. I just placed my chair near the window and started to daydream. I must have dozed off when I heard the door being opened as Tony returned, with the landlady holding a candle, mumbling a prayer as a priest soon followed to my surprise, blessing our tiny old room with his holy water.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-65546654414439457272012-07-03T01:07:00.001+08:002012-07-04T15:34:53.657+08:00The BakerI opened a bakery in a small town six months ago when I started noticing a decent old man walking to and from the park everyday.<br />
<br />
He caught my attention since he was walking alone with only his cane to guide him. I was worried he might stumble and fall - a bit irritated to his relatives, if there were any, to let him walk alone. <br />
<br />
<b>Everyday.</b><br />
<br />
He seemed to know everyone he met, and it seemed that everyone knew him. People would stop and ask how he was and he would just smile and tell them that he was never better.<br />
<br />
I asked one of my customers about him and I've learned that he was a professor and he always visited the park near my shop.<br />
<br />
Until one day, he dropped by my shop and bought bread. He smiled at me and I smiled back. The old man formally introduced himself and told me he knew I was new in town and hoped that the townfolks treated me well. <br />
<br />
I assured him that I was doing fine and that I was enjoying my time here. He finally bid farewell but I insisted on helping him cross the street. He said he can manage and that his wife was already waiting outside. <br />
<br />
I peeked at the window and saw no one, as the old man already left the shop. I followed him as fast as I could, trying to call his attention. <br />
<br />
When he saw me coming towards him, he smiled and stopped from walking. I told him that we should wait for his wife at the shop instead.<br />
<br />
He looked puzzled until he introduced me to his wife - <b>who wasn't there</b>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-62626316995666107022012-07-02T00:18:00.000+08:002012-07-20T03:32:34.058+08:00The Black BeetleThe old car Dad bought when I was six greeted me when I visited my Dad's garage. The black beetle still shined luxuriously under the dusty car cover, as Dad made sure <i>Betty</i>, as what he used to call her, got the royal treatment that she deserved. <br />
<br />
<i>Betty the Black Beetle</i> was our first car. She was old, yes, but Dad was really proud of her. We've been on long trips and she never failed Dad. Mom kinda felt jealous of the car since Dad spent a lot of time making Betty beautiful.<br />
<br />
But today, it would be my task to make sure she's going to be worth a thousand bucks. <br />
<br />
<i>I'll be selling Betty. </i><br />
<br />
If Dad was alive, I'm certain he'd be heartbroken. Well, if he <b>was</b>, I bet there won't be an easy way of talking him out of it. When I grew up, I insisted that he should let Betty go and just get a new one but he always said no. He said that Betty's the only one he ever needed - that no one can ever make him sell her.<br />
<br />
<b>Not in a million years</b>. I remember him telling me and Mom. <br />
<br />
It was two years ago when he passed away and I pretty much felt guilty about it. I never had the courage to tell him how much I loved my father, not even close to telling him how much I appreciated him being around.<br />
<br />
I guess he died <b>without</b> knowing.<br />
<br />
I wiped the dust away and started cleaning Betty. The white leather seats were still in prime condition, as if it was never used. The smell made me remember when I used to drive with Dad - the Sunday afternoons when he used to bring me to the park where we get hotdogs and ice cream.<br />
<br />
It was Betty who brought me to the prom. She was also there when I graduated. She was there when I moved out of the house - with Dad telling me that I can go back home anytime I wanted. I just smiled at him that day, as the excitement of finally being away from your parents seemed priceless.<br />
<br />
If given the choice, I would have returned home and spent my life with them. As their only child, I bet losing me was kinda painful for them.<br />
<br />
I opened the engine hood at the back and checked the oil and the wirings. Everything looked great - as if Betty didn't age at all. I started the engine and she hummed the same way she used to sound like when I was little. <br />
<br />
I was on the phone with the buyer when I opened the front hood. The buyer was asking how was Betty and where and what time we will meet tomorrow. The spacious hood made me remember that I used to hide here and that Dad got mad when I wrote something under the hood.<br />
<br />
<i>I wondered if it was still here</i>, I thought to myself, wondering what the kid in me did before. In a few seconds, I found it - and in that split second, <b>I cancelled the dea</b>l. <br />
<br />
The buyer was surprised to hear that I wouldn't be selling Betty anymore. <br />
<br />
<b>Not in a million years</b>, I told him as I smiled, realizing that I sounded like my Dad. <br />
<br />
I touched the scribble I left under the hood years ago, and right there and then I realized why Dad never wanted to sell Betty - and most of all, how Dad knew <b>how much</b> I loved him.<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-53977872616635374792012-07-01T09:01:00.001+08:002012-07-01T09:16:17.930+08:00The ExperimentThe microscope revealed that the experiment I've been working on tirelessly for years was a success. A new organism that can adapt to its environment and its capability to multiply in a short span of time was <b>remarkable</b>. <br />
<br />
The organisms even survived when I accidentally dropped too much liquid in the petri dish where I was testing its survivability. I thought the cells would mutate, however, it did something new. <i>Something unexpected.</i><br />
<br />
<b>It adapted.</b><br />
<br />
Within a few moments after I cleared the liquid out of the glass container, the organisms started to multiply.<br />
<br />
Within an hour, the cells branched out, moving from one location to the other, almost occupying the entire dish.<br />
<br />
Each branch then soon resulted to a different organism. When I zoomed in my lens to check each new cells, I've concluded that the organisms mutated to a variety of spectrum that made them look different from each other. Puzzled, I zoomed out and noticed that the cells still looked the same as it was before.<br />
<br />
I was in awe when I saw the organisms tried to eradicate a weaker group which was cut off from the other branches. I wrote in my journal that the cells also show aggression towards a weaker branch and would then soon occupy the vacant space for it to grow its superior clones.<br />
<br />
However, I've concluded that no matter how strong the organisms were, they were not immune to any abnormalities and have shown vulnerability to certain types of viruses. <br />
<br />
It was just an hour passed when the branches soon mixed, mutually benefitting from each other. It seemed that the organisms finally recognized that they were all the same.<br />
<br />
I smiled as I closed the petri dish after I labeled it with my pen. I stood up with a happy heart as I walked to the cryo and stored my greatest discovery. From the clear door of the freezer, I read aloud the label of the petri dish I just stored...<br />
<br />
"<b>HUMANS</b>".Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-59382858308008897882012-06-28T12:15:00.001+08:002012-06-28T12:34:29.390+08:00The PromiseI'm going to be a mother...<br />
<br />
The fact that there's a baby growing inside me made me run to the toilet and tried to vomit the mixed emotions out of me.<br />
<br />
Tears raced down from my eyes as I imagined what my Mom would tell me. I was such a disappointment... I was an ungrateful daughter to a woman who tried to give me everything I needed to have a fighting chance in this tormenting world. I was such a failure... A big one. <br />
<br />
I had a dream. I had planned my life - my life with Mom. I promised myself I will work hard - for us. I promised myself I will give her everything that she wanted, the same thing she'd been doing for seventeen years. <br />
<br />
I cuddled my pillow as random thoughts came rushing like an open faucet. I was trembling in fear - what will happen to my baby when she grows up? Will I be able to support her? Will I be able to find a job? Finish my studies? Find a man who will take the two of us? Treat her like his own? How would I tell Mom? How would I be able to look her in the eyes and tell her that her little girl's pregnant?<br />
<br />
My thoughts were cut short as I heard footsteps. From the sound of it, I knew it was Mom's, which made me wipe my tears and quickly pretended to be asleep.<br />
<br />
I closed my eyes and hoped she wouldn't notice I was crying. I wasn't ready to tell her yet... I don't want to hurt her...<br />
<br />
I heard the door open as she soon entered my room. She sat beside me, gently brushed my long black hair with her hand as she made herself comfortable and shared the bed with me.<br />
<br />
I remembered when Dad left us for another woman. I was crying the whole day in my bed and my Mom didn't leave my side, assuring me that everything will be fine. That we'll get through this together...<br />
<br />
She hugged me from behind as she reached for my tummy. I cried, as she whispered in her most loving tone, "Everything will be all right...".Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-64314067397487760142012-06-27T01:25:00.001+08:002012-06-27T01:25:24.957+08:00The Prisoner<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">As I looked beyond the window of my four-cornered prison cell, my thoughts wandered off as to what I will do the moment I get to escape from this torment. I smiled as I came upon a hilarious idea that I will be merrily rolling over the grass fields of the prairie.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I closed my eyes – just thinking of the funny idea which crossed my mind. Will it ever happen? <b>I bet not.</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">My master came, calling </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">my name over and over – and I hated it –<b> I’m not deaf</b>. I can hear him loud and clear. One time, I tried to ignore him. I thought I won, but he made me drink the worst water I ever tasted as part of his punishment. I never tried to ignore him again.<br />
<br />
I stood up as he looked at me and told me he wanted to walk. He can always walk on his own, but it somehow made me feel degraded, as I feel I've been always paraded as his slave.<br />
<br />
I couldn’t do anything else but to walk with him. Everytime I tried to stray away from his usual path, he would call me out, making sure my attention was to ensure his safety. And that I should always understand what he wanted me to do. With my head down and my spirits low, I remembered my dream - <b>to be free</b>, to run with the wind, to be happy...</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">We took a different route this time. The soil is muddy and you can smell trash everywhere. This was something new, something I've never realized it existed.<br />
<br />
As we continued our walk, I saw a homeless guy scavenging for food in a nearby trashcan. I called him, wanted to ask what he was doing, but my master asked me to ignore and carry on. Seeing someone who was as thin as a stick and as dirty as trash, it struck me <b>how ungrateful I was</b> with my situation.</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b>He was free</b>, yet he didn't look like he was enjoying it.</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I've always wondered what was beyond the four corners of my world. I was already living in <i>paradise</i>...</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">
<br />
We soon returned to my prison - or for lack of a better term, my master's home - with a sense of gratitude in mind. The moment he sat down his cushioned throne, he playfully threw a ball, which I happily fetched...</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-83639336434258319582012-06-26T21:47:00.000+08:002012-06-26T21:54:02.985+08:00The FogThe fog was closing in on me. One touch from the cold force and it would kill me, the same thing it did to my friends...<br />
<br />
Everyone's<b> dead</b> - the fog sucked the life out of everything it touched and<b> I was next</b>...<br />
<br />
<i>I don't want to die...</i><br />
<br />
<b>Beep. <span style="font-size: large;">Beep</span>.<span style="font-size: x-large;"> Beep</span>. </b><br />
<br />
It came loudly from nowhere, it echoed all throughout the dark forest where I was unfortunately trapped. The beeping was so familiar as I tried to recall where I first heard it. Then, all of a sudden, the fog was no more... Yet the screaming sound kept on and on and on...<br />
<br />
<b>Beep. <span style="font-size: large;">Beep</span>.<span style="font-size: x-large;"> Beep</span>.</b><br />
<br />
The alarm clock frantically tried to wake me up from my nightmare as my wasted body slowly recuperated from the hair-raising experience.<br />
<br />
<i>What time is it?</i> I asked my groggy self, wiping the cold sweat on my forehead as I reached for the wretched clock and ended its disturbing noise. <br />
<br />
<b>7:00 am.</b><br />
<br />
A sudden jolt of energy rose me from the comfort of my bed as I finally remembered that I will soon be late for school. It was as if I drank a liter of Red Bull which made my body forget that it still wanted to rest.<br />
<br />
I was never late. I will never be late. I will not lose my record to Kev Thurman!<br />
<br />
I dashed all my way to the bathroom and made my daily rituals in a snap. In fifteen minutes, I was already downstairs, about to kiss Mom goodbye, who apparently wasn't there. <br />
<br />
The sun greeted me with its boastful rays as I squinted my shocked eyes to avoid being blinded. I took my rusty old bike from the garage and rode with the autumn wind, wondering why the neighborhood seemed so quiet. <br />
<br />
Or rather, <b>TOO quiet</b>. Where are the kids walking to school?<br />
<br />
<b>7:20am</b><br />
<br />
Oh dear. Five minutes more and I will be late.<br />
<br />
<b>7:28am</b><br />
<br />
I have arrived. <i>Phew</i>. I parked my bicycle in my usual spot, not noticing it was the only bike in the rack.<br />
<br />
Where is <b>everybody</b>?<br />
<br />
As I entered the hallway, the silence gave the school an eerie feeling. No kids running around the supposed-to-be busy hallway, no slamming metals of lockers, no crazy girls talking about their boyfriends, no bullies asking a poor kid for money...<br />
<br />
No one. <b>Except me</b>. I suddenly remembered my nightmare, about the fog, about how it almost got me, but I shrugged it off - I took a bath and I felt the cold water on my skin. <i>This is real</i>.<br />
<br />
My feet wanted to stop walking, but my mind commanded I should hurry. As I reached my classroom, I was hoping that everything was just a prank - a big prank. Unfortunately for me, no one's inside. The unbearable silence was too much - I was close to going nuts!<br />
<br />
I didn't expect things would still get worse, as white smoke from the door cracks suddenly crept like fog in the room.<br />
<br />
The fog... It's... <b>Real!</b><br />
<br />
My eyes grew wide with disbelief - <i>I'm dreaming</i>... I'm <b>definitely</b> dreaming. My friends... My parents... They're all dead... I'm the only one alive and it came back<b> to get me</b>...<br />
<br />
I closed my puzzled eyes, hoping that I will wake up, but I was wide awake. I can smell the noxious smoke coming to get me, to suck the life out of me... <br />
<br />
The monstrous fog's coming towards me, crawling, filling the small room inch by inch with its deadly gas...<br />
<br />
I stood up, as I finally decided to make a run for it. Clumsy as I am, I fell to the floor, losing my glasses in the desperate process. <br />
<br />
<b>Close to tears</b>, my trembling hands blindly searched for the wretched glasses. My heart thumped so hard it hurt,<b> I wanted to just give up</b>. <br />
<br />
Finally, my fingers caught my spectacles as I immediately wore it, facing the big white board in front of me, with letters looking like ancient hieroglyphs. <br />
<br />
I screamed my heart out as the letters finally made sense...<br />
<br />
"<i>No classes tomorrow due to a scheduled fumigation.</i>"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-51193179879485764892012-06-26T05:17:00.000+08:002012-06-26T21:53:32.749+08:00Those Perfect WordsHere she goes again. She smiled and I melted like an ice cream in the middle of summer's burning sun. I unconsciously smiled too, though I have no idea what she's smiling about.<br />
<br />
If I could just tell her how much I hated myself everytime I was with her, bearing the agony of losing the perfect words to finally admit that I've been in love with her the moment she said "Hello" was pretty much torture.<br />
<br />
It's been five years ago when we first met. We were both incoming first year college students and were unfortunately lost as to where to get our schedules. Out of innocence, she took my hand, held it, as we strode together to find what we were looking for.<br />
<br />
Little did she know that I never wanted to let her go. If she only knew how much I wanted to freeze that moment when somebody finally took notice of me.<br />
<br />
She wasn't the most beautiful girl I've met, but man, she's the only one who've made my heart forget it's sole purpose. And I'm not goodlooking either - but she never failed to make me feel at par with Brad Pitt.<br />
<br />
And now, I'm staring at her as she clings for dear life. Tubes were everywhere - and everytime I see the respirator pumped, it was as if my breaths were in sync with the device that gives her a chance to live another day.<br />
<br />
I've heard about her condition three days ago after her bestfriend called me up crying, couldn't utter the sad news that the girl I've been secretly in love with was dying due to a freak car accident.<br />
<br />
I came to her side the moment I ended the call. Her parents cried as soon as they saw me, seeing in me how things were used to be.<br />
<br />
I sat beside her, as my hands reached for hers, now motionless, frigid and lifeless. I can barely stand looking at her - my heart broke into a gazillion pieces as I remembered the moments she made my day. <br />
<br />
I looked away, as tears fell from my sorry eyes. Then a familiar notebook on her sidetable caught my attention. I instinctively took it and read all her entries as flashbacks set in, making me remember every detail of our lives. <br />
<br />
With tears flowing out of my eyes, I stood up, reached for her, and kissed her cold forehead as I said with all my heart's honesty -<br />
<br />
"<i>I love you too</i>, my darling Clare..."<br />
<br />
Then, her tired heart stopped from beating, as if she was just waiting for me to tell her those perfect words she had been longing to hear...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-54009965643149912352012-06-24T09:17:00.001+08:002012-06-25T08:36:09.398+08:00The Commuter<b>Regrets</b>. Trust me, my head is <b>full of it</b> right now. <br />
<br />
I shouldn't have taken the bus. I should have brought my car to work. I shouldn't be staring at this killer's devilish eyes, looking back at me, showing no hesitation to take the remaining life out of me, the same thing he did with the other passengers.<br />
<br />
I saved a kid from being shot earlier, but my act of heroism made my back numb, as blood gushed all over the floor and it made a big mess. I was hit, and my spine got in the way - and I couldn't move.<br />
<br />
I lay on my back in the middle of the hostaged bus as he walked towards me, like a lion stalking its prey as I stared, frozen in disbelief, of what have I gotten myself into. <br />
<br />
His footsteps were at the same rhythm as my heart's heavy beating... My lungs seemed to not care if I no longer gasped for air.<br />
<br />
<i>I shouldn't be in here.</i> I should have been driving in my car. I closed my eyes, still blaming myself for the wrong choices I've made. <br />
<br />
As my sight grew dark, I remembered my Mom teaching me what to do everytime I'm scared. She taught me to close my eyes hard, count to three and when I open my eyes again, everything would be fine. <br />
<br />
As the darkness enveloped my blurred vision, I felt his calloused hands dragging me away. I was motionless, distraught, numb and still regretting. <br />
<br />
<i>Why...? </i><br />
<br />
<b>One...</b><br />
<br />
I felt being strangled. I wanted to fight back, but it's as if I've lost all strength.<i> I've lost it</i>...<br />
<br />
<b>Two... </b><br />
<br />
<b>Three..</b>.<br />
<br />
I felt a weight has been lifted off of me as I breathed in air as if I finished a very deep free-diving stunt ever made.<br />
<br />
Then, I tried to open my eyes as I got blinded by the light in front of me.<b> I wanted to scream</b>, I wanted this nightmare to stop but for some reason, all I did was cry. <br />
<br />
I cried and I cried and I cried until I heard voices.<br />
<br />
I barely understood what they were talking about, but from the tone of their voices, I felt that they were indeed very happy.<br />
<br />
"<i>It's a baby boy..</i>."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-61456293033050701932012-06-24T09:14:00.001+08:002012-06-26T21:54:22.398+08:00The SanctuaryShe had been hiding inside the darkness of her little sister's closet for almost an hour now, which for her, seemed like days.<br />
<br />
Cold sweat covered her pale face, as she kept her restless eyes wide open, peeking at the tiny crevice of her found sanctuary.<br />
<br />
All she remembered was waking up in the middle of the night seeing her little sister in half. <br />
<br />
<b>In half</b>. With her insides all exposed for her to see.<br />
<br />
The morbid image flashed through her head again as she tried to stop herself from sobbing. The mere thought of seeing what happened to her sister was too much for her to handle - yet still she couldn't afford to get caught.<br />
<br />
She didn't know how she got inside the closet's recluse. She could not even fathom who or what was she hiding from. <br />
<br />
Her thoughts were cut short as she heard claws dragging its way inside the small room where she was in. The screeching sound sent goosebumps on her sweaty skin as it came nearer.<br />
<br />
She took her mobile phone and quickly dialed 911 but was unsuccessful. She tried sending her relatives and friends SMS, asking for help yet there were no response. <br />
<br />
Suddenly, the entity stopped from moving as the screeching sound was no more. She sighed in temporal relief, only to be caught offguard by the vibration of an incoming SMS. <br />
<br />
<i>At last</i>, she thought, as she started reading the message.<br />
<br />
In an instant, she lifelessly dropped her phone, revealing what she just received...<br />
<br />
"<b>The closet's too small for the two of us here, don't you think</b>?"<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-3440080936032352182012-06-24T01:17:00.001+08:002012-06-26T21:54:56.755+08:00The Lavender BrideI can smell the relaxing scent of lavender all over the decorated church as visitors and well-wishers anxiously await for the bride's arrival.<br />
<br />
I stood firm with my best suit on. I know she wouldn't notice since her attention wouldn't be on what I would be wearing, but of course, it's the fact that she's getting married.<br />
<br />
<b>Today. </b><br />
<br />
I have loved her all my life, as we grew up together, with each of our families' patriarch as the reason for our bonds. A bond which started during WWII. And somehow, I would like to thank the war for that - for if my forefathers didn't meet that time, I wouldn't be here where I am today. <br />
<br />
I wouldn't be waiting for the bride of my life to walk down the aisle. <br />
<br />
It seemed that angels flew past everyone as the crowd grew silent. <br />
<br />
The bride has arrived. <br />
<br />
<b>She has arrived.</b><br />
<br />
I held my breath as the orchestra started playing Pachelbel's Canon. She walked with grace, as slow and tormenting as it could be. <br />
<br />
Each step she made seemed eternal. As she walked nearer, I remembered when we were kids.<br />
<br />
I remembered every Christmas, every birthday, every holiday... And every moment... Every single moment of one's true love...<br />
<br />
Her gown, shimmering with its purity and extravagance, became worthless as she smiled radiantly behind her veil, leaving every guest's face in awe as her marvelous beauty paraded in front of them. <br />
<br />
I love you. My heart uttered, but she's too far to hear my heart's desire.<br />
<br />
As she reached me, I smiled. I looked at her and she looked back - wanting. We locked our eyes, as if speaking to each other. <br />
<br />
Mesmerized by the bride in front of me, I have forgotten what to do. My lips were zipped and my feet were frozen. <br />
<br />
<i>My, my, my... How lucky am I to be with her today...</i><br />
<br />
She secretly took my hand, pressed it, as if telling me everything will be okay.<br />
<br />
I nodded as I returned my composure. As I looked at everyone who were all waiting in delight to witness two hearts to become one, to be blessed in front of our Almighty Father, I smiled.<br />
<br />
The solemn June wind blew the lavender scent as I inhaled its peaceful and lingering aroma.<br />
<br />
But at the back of my mind, I was weeping, as I uttered...<br />
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<b>"We are gathered here today..."</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-62506316903884971512012-06-23T19:30:00.002+08:002012-06-26T21:55:08.207+08:00The Signal<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b>Unbelievable</b>. My Dad woke me up in the middle of the night, forcing my frail and tired body to pick myself together. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I wondered what the hell was going on, since it's the weekend and we didn't even make any plans. My thoughts dispersed until Dad asked me to focus on the television, and what the News was saying. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I couldn't believe what I'm seeing and hearing from the screen. I thought, for a se</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">cond, if I was just dreaming. I'm wide awake, my Dad assured me of that.<br /><br />"<b>We are not alone</b>."<br /><br />The life shattering statement from the Space Organization formally concluded the on-going debate if we were the only living thing in the universe.<br /><br />A signal was intercepted by our long-range satellite from a distant planet several light years away from us. The intelligent life forms apparently understood music, math, religion, technology and art, as we decoded each digital encryption sent to us.<br /><br />We were never alone in the first place. The mere thought sent shivers up my spine.<br /><br />Riots were occuring all throughout the world. Our spiritual institutions were undersiege. What we believed in no longer mattered.<br /><br />I stood motionless, grasping for air, trying to gather the remaining sanity there was to hold on to.<br /><br /><b>We were all living a lie</b>.<br /><br />And it's all because of a signal from a faraway planet called <b>Earth</b>.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-66738073248641424272012-06-23T03:11:00.001+08:002012-06-23T03:11:17.764+08:00The SilenceThree months ago, I moved in to a two-door apartment, at the same time my quiet neighbor decided to renovate his home, as I can tell from the incessant pounding between our walls. <br />
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It's been three months and he's still at it - and it bothered me since he works on it during the day while I try to sleep after working at night.<br />
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I nursed up all my courage to confront him, to ask him when will he ever finish his goddamn project.<br />
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As I approached his ancient door, it slowly swung open as I peeked, only to find out I never had a neighbor in the first place...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5335649679986900505.post-58620455301492975332012-06-22T05:26:00.002+08:002012-06-26T21:55:33.420+08:00The Last Ninja<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am a Ninja – the last Ninja of my clan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or so I thought, until I heard that our Princess was alive, and was held hostage by our mortal enemy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve been running as far as I can remember. I’ve killed hundreds, or probably thousands with my blade and shurikens. I enjoyed it. The blood of my enemies on my sword motivated me to save her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I need to save her and give justice to my clan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am the last one who can, and with my skills, I will kill them all in one swift stroke. I will be as silent as the wind and as powerful as the waves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With the blessings of the Ancient gods, <strong>I will crush them all</strong>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last general I’ve killed told me her whereabouts. I feel she’s almost near. I can feel revenge’s about to be served - as cold as the steel of my ancient sword.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I barged open the dojo’s large door where she was kept captive, hundreds of other ninjas attacked me in an instant. Their eyes were red as they were all powered by the ancient evil which consumed them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Little did they know that I possess the power of the wind and I immediately became invisible. My enemies fell one by one, as blood poured all over the dojo, as they had no time to wonder what took their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As my power waned, I finally saw her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Beneath my mask, my eyes grew large as everything became clear. <strong>She was the enemy...</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A tear fell from my eye as I had no choice but to attack, but in one swift blow, she caught me by surprise, as a sword from nowhere stabbed me from behind as it pierced through my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last Ninja fell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As everything became dark, two words suddenly appeared in the middle of the room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">GAME OVER.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17305076811663633524noreply@blogger.com0