Wednesday, August 03, 2005

100 word epic

The Sunday sun gleamed on the corridor of his late father’s three-room apartment. Richard, sloppily slurping his lunch of miso, dropped his chopsticks when he spotted her coming out of her apartment, bags in tow. Through his grilled enclosure, he saw her walk away, from her life, from his. In ten years, only their eyes met except for that rainy night. Wet, he brought her home and broke their silence. And then she left, never said anything. Today, her eyes did not meet his and he looked down to see his bowl of miso and chopsticks, broken like his heart.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

The Red Ball

He felt something hit the back of his heel. He turned to look and saw a red ball. That was when the incidents of that day appeared vividly in his mind once again. He recalled a red ball rolling down the gravel path, the leaves of autumn falling around it. And then it stopped rolling. A black leather shoe had stopped it. He turned his gaze from the red ball and to the figure standing before him.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005


Whenever she came online, it was routine. She would first check her inbox, secretly hoping that either of them would've sent her an email. It did not matter whether it was just a "Hi!" or a forwarded "You're Cursed!" one.
When her inbox read zero as it always would, she would open her friend's blog just to listen to the cool song he had placed there.
And then, she got to work. She would click on and look at them. She felt funny crushing on 2 guys at the same time. The guitarist, she had known recently. She had strolled into a cafe after a shopping spree and there before her eyes, was he. The poet she had met in school, though she never really talked to him before. On a whim, she had added both of them to her friendster account and they accepted her.
Everyday, she would read their profiles, stare at their pictures, always waiting for new pictures to drool over. She would read every testimonial over and over to try and understand both of them better.
However, today was different. She saw both the poet's and guitarist's status had been changed to "In a Relationship". That wasn't too bad to digest. In a wicked twist of fate and much to her horror, there was a picture of both the poet and guitarist, arms around each other, with a caption that read, "My darling," on both their accounts. Now this was harder to swallow.
Without much thought, she deleted both boys from her account, logged out, stopped the music and shut down the computer.
She threw herself onto her bed, in between the two smiling boys.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Conversations that can lead to stories...

Me: Stupid dagnabit pirated DVD!

Dad: What happened?

Me: I could only part of the actor's head at certain parts of the movie. How bout the one you watched?

Dad: Oh, mine got no one stand up.

Me: What the? Nooooo...The one I watched no one stand up also...

Mum: -laughs uncontrollably-

Dad: Then? Why you complain?

Me: -slaps forehead- Forget it.


Me: What you doing?

Soozee: On friendster, spying on my crushes. I think they're romantically linked.


And just like that, Soozee has by accident, given me an idea for a story, a play maybe. Who knows? But it sounds darn workable.
Imagine it. Your crushes being with each other instead. Hahaha...

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Can I call her Alice?

In place of a pot of gold, she stumbled upon a cave at the end of the rainbow. It was not really a cave for it could not fit an adult nor could it be called just a hole for it was big enough for her to go through. Not once did she expect her visit to Innisfree would allow her to live her dreams for at that very moment, she felt like Alice, about to fall into her own wonderland.
She reached out to touch the walls but there were no beams nor railings and as she stepped into the cave, she plunged into the shadows, arms now flailing.


Monday, March 21, 2005

Ideas, Ideas...

Just some ideas in the wee hours of the morning...

She stood on the sidewalk trying to capture a glimpse of him. The rain, seemingly appeared invisible to her for she stood in the open as it drenched her ochre summer dress. Oblivious to her surroundings, curious stares attempted to plague her but to no avail. Her piercing eyes, fixated on that tiny green-tinted window on the seventh floor of the building before her.

As she sat on the swing, her tiny feet dangled from her seat, unable to reach the ground. Not that she cared, for at that moment, it felt like a throne fit for a princess like her. As she sat on the clouds, the world laid still at her feet. Her feet moved in tandem to the swing as it rocked back and forth. As Daddy pushed her slowly, and then faster, she squealed in joy as the swing gained its momentum, defying the limitations of gravity. The higher she went, the closer she felt to touching the heavens., the closer she felt to Mummy. But it would all end there when Daddy's arms become tired and too weak to push her anymore. As the pendulum slowed down to a halt, so did her happiness with a premature end.

Friday, November 05, 2004

Word around the block...

Well well...Seems like I've been inspired by Jiayuan to try my hand at writing a 50,000 word novel. I don't know how it'll go. I don't know if it'll reach the required amount of words by month's end. For starters, a 1000 word movie review pales in comparison to this and for the record, I've never attempted such a feat of mammoth proportions (well, to me at least...for now...) Anyhow, if we always believe that dreams are impossible, they will always be. And if we let the dreams be and not try, then perhaps they'll just remain as bottled dreams.
So, why not take a step today?

Chapter 1 (Tentative)

He stirred from his sleep. Slowly, he shifted to his side of the bed trying to fixate his eyes on the tiny green light far away from him as he sat erect by the edge. Suddenly, the room felt alien to him as did the bed sheets let alone the bed. In the darkness, he squinted, trying to make out the nearest object within sight. In doing so, he banged his knee against what seemed to be a side table. He traced his fingers along the sides of the table and he seemed to feel cold porcelain.

“Has got to be a lamp,” he thought to himself. He started feeling the wall, searching for a switch. Finding it, he pressed it down once. Nothing happened. He flicked the switch again. Still nothing. He flicked it continuously to no effect. He turned to the other side of the bed and his hands brushed against something warm. Again, using his fingers, he traced them along the contours of the object. Not to his surprise, it was the figure of a woman. At that moment, he understood everything. It was just another room, another woman, another conquest. But tonight, he felt that somehow, the green light and the darkened room justified his life; the light some tiny hope, the darkness his journey in life.

He stood up, making his way to the bathroom. As he walked in the darkness, the gentle morning breeze was slowly picking up as it teased the curtains. He felt the softness of the breeze brushing his body sensually. Lured by such a tender temptation, he changed his course and walked towards the balcony door. Pushing it open, he stepped onto the tiny balcony and inhaled the dewy aura of the morning. As he did this, he stood admiring the sight before him. The satin darkness of the night was being replaced by purplish strands breaking out into tiny baby blue pores. Beyond the horizon, the sun was awaking, its embers like fireballs on the surface of the sea. The mesh of such enchanting colours defied every rainbow and a collaboration of canvas, palette and paint. Such mastery was beyond the talent of any man alive. ”Now that’s poetry in motion,” he muttered under his breath.