Category: Short Stories

Thirty minutes

“Our valued costumers. The store is about to close in thirty minutes. Please be guided accordingly.”
Despite the overhead warning, I walked aimlessly in the mall. I had time to kill before my boyfriend met with me outside the mall anyway. I glanced at the familiar stalls, my hands swaying beside me. I began to count all the little cracks on the walls, and how many lights flickered. It was surely an old mall, one that stood since I was a kid.
I thought about my life, the way I never seem to get a break. I was stuck in the cliché dead end job, with the same boyfriend since high school. I was soon to turn to quarter of a century year old, and yet I had the enthusiasm of an eighty-year-old woman who saw death coming near.
A small hand slipped through mine, lacing their small fingers with mine. I immediately stopped walking, and looked at the little kid. She smiled at me, her yellow headband almost falling from her head.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked her, crouching down to her little height. She was about three or four, her dimples showing as she smiled again.
“Mommy.”
She pointed at my nose, and repeated saying “Mommy” two more times. She even covered her eyes then said “Mommy” when she uncovered them.
I looked around for anyone looking for a kid, feeling sorry for the mother who lost her little girl. No one seemed to be looking, so I led her to the costumer service counter.
“I think this girl is missing.”
The woman looked over the counter to look at the kid, who only waved at her.
“Ma’am, you had this kid with you when you entered the store.”
My heart immediately froze, as I turned my head toward the kid. It was only then when I noticed how she looked like me.
“You have twenty minutes before the mall closes ma’am. You should slowly make your exit.”
She smiled at the kid once again, before resuming to face her computer.
“Mommy.”
The kid began to pull me, but I was too dumbfounded to move.
Who was this kid?
And why did she look like me?
“Mommy. I pee.”
I let her lead me toward the bathroom. Halfway towards it she made me lift her up, which I robotically did so. She kissed my cheeks, making a cold shiver travel down my body.
“I wove you Mommy.”
She hugged me around my neck, as I got us near the bathroom.
“You have ten minutes before closing time ma’am.”
A saleswoman told me when she saw me going into the bathroom.
“The kid wants to pee. It would just be a moment.”
The saleswoman smiled when the kid began to wave at her as we entered the bathroom. I didn’t know what to do when we got in. I never wanted to be a mother ever since I could remember, so I awkwardly let the kid down to find a stall for her to pee in.
“Mooooommy.” She called out, pointing to one of the stalls.
There were empty stalls around us, and she wanted to use the one with the ‘out of order’ one. I remember it has been out of order for years.
“You use the other ones.” I told her.
She refused, pointing toward the stall again. When I told her no, she began to throw a tantrum.
“Mommy! I pee!”
I gave up and tried to open the stall, which was surprisingly unlocked. I felt the room grow colder when I saw the familiar surroundings of the stall. My hands were shaking when I saw oblong shaped meat like in the middle of the toilet bowl. I remembered the excruciating pain of removing a virus from my uterus. I remembered deciding to do it in a place where I never thought I’d go back again. 
And when I saw the kid climbing on the toilet bowl and waving at me as she turned to blood, I blacked out.

“Valued costumers, the store is closing. Please exit the mall immediately.”
————————————-
Boo! Scared yet? Fiction is love! 

The Perfect Christmas

Curses were exchanged, followed by screaming and pointing of fingers. My heart lurches to the ground, my small box that I wrapped myself feeling like a hundred pounds. He began to throw her a look, a disgusted one, something I was used to seeing. He began to blame her for all his problems, as I shivered outside our house.

Snow began to fall, the white flakes sticking to the tears that have managed to escape my eyes. I turned around, walking aimlessly toward nowhere. The neighborhood was quiet, and inside you’d see families together, sharing meals and gifts. Everything felt like a stupid trick, one I was not willing to play in. I began to think why some people were blessed with children but treated them like a curse. Why someone was blessed with a family to go home to, yet acts as if they have nothing at all. It was a twisted world, and no one seemed to notice.

“Back so soon?” A man said as soon as he saw me.

In the middle of my musings I got as far as the town, where the shops were closing.

“I want to return this.”

I showed him the small box, something I once hoped was a symbol that we might act like a family again.

“You can’t return that little lady. Not when you’ve already wrapped it.” He pointed out. I huffed, feeling dismayed that I can’t even get my money back for something that made me feel useless. I began to walk away, hoping that by now they would be asleep.

“Hey. If it really means something to you, we can unwrap it.” He called out. I turned around to meet a kind smile, something I haven’t seen in a long time. He opened the door for me, and turned the lights on. The buzzing of the lights soon filled my ears, as we began to walk through the aisle of his store.

“Let’s see what we got here shall we?” He said, taking a seat at the cashier’s booth. He took the box from me, delicately opening the tape and wrapper.

“Can’t I just take the money and go?” I said impatiently.

“Hold on. We have to make sure that it’s all in one piece.” When he finally got to the box, he opened it and peered into it. “Ah. A snow globe. For the boyfriend I suppose?” He was smiling at me, and something in me wanted to just look away.

“Look. It’s in one piece. Can I go?” I began to gather my things, not caring about how many lunches I had to skip to save for the gift.

“It’s a blizzard out there. You sure you want to leave?” Surely enough, the snow began to fall in a steady pace, making it hard to look at anywhere. “I can make you hot cocoa.”

I couldn’t resist the offer, especially since I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

“Thank you.” I said. The warmth of the cup was most welcome, as my teeth were clattering with the cold. I held it towards my face, letting the steam heat my cheeks. It was served in one of those decorative cups, with whipped cream on top.

“Here’s a seat.” He pulled out a chair from behind the counter, and placed it beside me. “And your 50 dollar return.” He placed the money beside my arms, and I smiled at him in silent thanks.

Silence soon covered us, like a blanket of warm solitude and comfort. It was alien to me, yet I liked the feeling of sitting across someone who didn’t pull you down.

“I guess you can’t go home yet. The road is covered in snow.” He commented after a while.

I felt relieved, cause now I had a reason not to go home immediately. “I’m sorry if you didn’t make it home because of me.”

“It’s alright. Better actually. I live alone, so it’s nice to have someone to be with on a Christmas night.” He took a sip of his drink, humming in appreciation of the taste.

“So where are you from?” He asks. My mind wanders to our house, if it was now silent or still echoing with voices full of venom.

“Four blocks from here. The one with the red roof. You?”

“Just upstairs. It’s mighty lonely there.”

I nodded, not knowing how to continue the conversation. My cup was halfway through when he asked something I hoped to never have to answer.

“Why did you return the gift? You bought it like two hours ago. I saw how you wrapped it outside my store.”

I simply shrugged though, knowing that I didn’t have to answer that to a stranger.

“Can I go now? The weather seems to be letting up.”

He nodded, and soon he was closing shop. “If you want another cup of cocoa, you know where to go.” He said as we parted ways.

I made my way home, dreading to see them still fighting. When I got near enough, I peaked at their window. They were still at it, bickering like a couple of inmates. They haven’t even noticed that their dear daughter hasn’t come home yet. I began to run away, as fast as my feet could carry me. I needed to talk to someone, anyone. I found myself again in front of the store, just as he was going up to what he mentioned as his apartment.

“Hey!” I called. He turned around, and he smiled when he saw that it was me. “Want to spend Christmas with someone over a hot cocoa?”

He walked down the stairs, and inserted his key to the shop. “I sure would.”
—————-
Fictiooooon! Merry Christmas!

Ticket please?


“Good evening sir. Ticket please?” I said hoarsely for maybe the hundredth time that night.

The man grumbled as he looked for the small thin strip of paper that was supposed to be in his hands the moment he stepped into the boat. I impatiently wait, looking at the other passengers who are also waiting for the man. I found myself studying him, from his furrowed brow to his scattered bag. This guy seriously needed to relax.

“Here.” He pointedly says, handing me a piece of crumpled paper. I open it delicately, afraid it would get torn apart
“Well? I don’t have all day.”

I force a smile, then I point him to the right direction. He stomps away like a little kid, slamming his bags on his bed. I soon accommodate the others, most of them more gentle than the other guy.

“Take a break Lisa. Let me take over.” Mike says, offering a helpful smile that came out as creepy.

“And let you slack off? No.” I huff, remembering the time I left him in charge. Never gonna happen again.

“Come on. I only took a bathroom break. I didn’t know people would come pouring in.”

I ignore him, knowing it was wiser than to acknowledge his arrogant self. Boredom soon came over, making me use my highlighter to paint my nails.

“Excuse me miss?”

I look up instantly with a smile on my face, afraid to get caught not being “polite” to the passengers. But as I met dark brown eyes with a crinkled forehead, I internally groaned to face Mr. Cranky.

“Yes sir?”

“Where can I ask for beddings?”

I noticed he had a dimple on his left cheek while he talked, and the way he was so stiff and bossy.

“Just continue on this side sir, then turn to the right for the Information table.”

He walks off again, without much of a thank you. Jerk. Minutes later I see him return, his tall frame towering the double beds.

“Good evening passengers. We regret to inform you that we will be leaving an hour after our designated time, as we are still undergoing cargo. We apologize.”

I silently protest, certainly not looking forward to another hour of standing. I see Mike snicker across from me, lounging on one of the seats for the others. Rage begins to grow inside of me, barely holding its lid.

“Miss?”

“What?!” Uh oh. Breathe Lisa. I find the courage to look up and begin to apologize to the man, until I realize it was him.

“Uhm, I’m sorry about earlier. I know I acted sourly towards you.” He looked sincere, yet still so stiff. He held two cups of soup on both hands, both steaming with the hot water. “Maybe I could make it up with the soup?”

I couldn’t say no, especially when he showed a smile. It was downright cute, definitely better than the evil tyrant face he wore earlier. Luckily his bed was near my station, and soon we began talking like long lost friends.

“So you were left on port because you got locked in the bathroom?” He bellowed with a laugh. I smacked his arm and tried to shush him, peering around to see the other passengers sleeping on their beds.

“It’s not my fault it’s broken. They should have written that “out of order” note on the door. I got in so much trouble for missing that boat!” I cringed as I remembered that moment.

The overhead speakers soon came to life, zapping me out of retrieving more embarrassing moments to tell the guy beside me. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will soon depart from the port. Employees, please report to the office.”

“That’s my que.” I stood up and began to dust off the biscuit bits from my shirt.

“See you in 5 hours then? Since you can’t see me til after the trip I mean.” He gave me a soft smile, enough to make my heart go kaboom!

“Sure”

I fell asleep during those five hours, dreaming of nameless guy. It kind of sounds stupid that I didn’t get his name, but if we don’t see each other again it won’t be a problem. I begin to do my rounds to my station, as passengers began to exit the boat. He was no where to be found, his bags all gone.

“Lisa! Want to go somewhere before the next boat?”

“Mike. No.”

I walked away, hoping he would just give up.

“Come on Lisa. It’s not like you have another date somewhere.” I began to walk faster, not minding my way. That was until I bumped into him.

“She does have a date, doesn’t she?”

I looked up to see Mr. Cranky turned Mr. Mystery smiling at me, a hopeful look on his face. I looked back at Mike, his face full of annoyance. I slipped my arm through his, and smiled at him.

“Yes, yes I do.”
——————–
Dedicated to the snotty woman who checked our boat tickets on the way to Tacloban. She was so grumpy that the creases on her forehead never seemed to go away. So I gave her a fictional love life so she could be happy. 😀
On a very HAPPY sidenote, I finished my book! I sent it to multiple publishers, and I have my fingers crossed so hard that they’re locked together! Haha.

Nightmares and sweet realities



I woke up with a start, the vivid images from my dream digging into my skin. I was shaking, sweat pouring profusely from its glands. I tried to shake off the feeling, trying to get a grip on reality. My arms on instinct snaked their way onto my husband’s side, and I breathed a sigh of relief to find him there. I began to shake him awake, afraid of being alone. The room seemed to be closing in on me, the darkness and silence as deafening and as blinding. He soon woke up, sluggishly opening his eyes. These eyes whoever, widened at the sight of me.

“Honey? Are you alright? What happened?” He frantically searched my body, his eyes scanning every inch of me. When he was done, he turned back to me, looking at me intensely in the eye.

“What’s wrong?”

I began shaking again, and he hugged me tight. The warmness emanating from him was a gift from heaven, as I inhaled his scent of pine trees and mint. I tried to calm myself again, breathing in heavily. He pulled me closer to him, his big arms wrapped around me. I took a big breath, before burying myself deeper to his chest.

“I-I had a bad dream.” I said, my voice shaking with every word. When he didn’t say a thing, it urged me to continue. “You left me. You said you were tired of me. Then you shot me in the heart, and ran as far away as you could.”

Everything flashed in my mind, the feeling of loneliness, and death that was slowly creeping into me. To some, I might sound like a lovesick teenager, but this man was literally my rock. He made it impossible for me to live without him. Without him, I’d be a walking dead person. My husband only kissed my forehead, trying to calm me. I didn’t even know I was crying till he wiped a tear from my eye.

“It was just a dream, alright honey? Just a dream. I’m here.” 


I looked up onto his eyes, and I saw only sincerity. Gosh, I love this man. He closed the distance between us as he kissed me on the lips, sparks flying everywhere. His grip on my hips tightened, closing any milimeter of distance between us. When we finally let go to breathe, a thought entered my head.
“But what if you’re a dream too?” I asked, my voice faltering.

He surprised me by biting the tip of my nose, making me smack his face away. 

“What was that for?” I asked, rubbing my injured nose. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“Of course it did!” He lowered his head to kiss my nose, his warmth spreading all over it.

“Then you’d know that this isn’t a dream. I’m here. I’d always be here.”

My heart fluttered like a bird, as he cuddled me into his arms. We fell asleep like that, just hugging. I knew that no nightmare would ever harm me, as long as it was sweeter in reality.


————–

Fiction. I texted this to my boyfriend the other day when he asked me to imagine married life with him. I came up with this one. 🙂

My bag carrier

“I have your bag with me so you won’t leave me.”

He said, a smile on his face. I chuckled, as I waited in line. He walked away from me, looking at the aisle where they sold toys. He looked back at me, as if asking for permission.

“Go then. I don’t think I’m going anywhere with my whole life praticaly in that bag.”

He beamed at me, then walked into the toy section. For someone who’s almost twenty seven years old, my boyfriend sure acts like a kid. I shook my head, as the cashier lady said “Next.” I emptied my arm, full of new books to read. As the computer beeped with every swipe, I realized my wallet was in my bag. I silently cursed, hoping that he’s come back before I had to pay.

“That would be nine hundred pesos.” The lady said, bored as ever.

I looked around for him, and when I saw his egg shaped head, I practically called him like an overhead speaker. He hurriedly ran towards me, his hand behind his back.

“What is that?” I said, eyeing him suspiciously.

He pulled out a space gun and a Hot Wheels car shyly, putting them on the counter. The lady swiped them, and I paid for it. Figures, I thought. I’m in love with someone obsessed with guns and cars while he’s in love with a girl with more books than sense. I inwardly smiled to myself, as he took the bag with all our stuff in it. I offered to take my bag from him, but he resisted, reminding me how many times I ran off without him. I smiled, remembering the times I left him in department stores and other places just because I knew he’d go looking for me. It was fun while it lasted, and it always resulted in a kiss, because I always scare him to death.

“We’re home.”

He said, breaking my chain of thoughts. I looked at the second floor, where our apartment was located. With our heavy grocery bags, he took them all, determined to do it in one trip. I laughed at his antics as we walked up the building. Reaching our door, he asked me for the keys. I quizzically look at him, as he struggled to open the door with the key. I was about to follow him inside, when he stopped me, making a few jars in the grocery bag to crash together.

“Don’t go in yet.” He said, more like ordered.

I puffed at him, and he just smiled as he took the grocery bags and my bag into the apartment. Curiosity was killing me by the second, and just as I was about to open the door his face popped out.

“I know you’re impatient, but could you just please wait here? I won’t be long, I promise.”

He looked flustered, his face looking like he ran a marathon. I reluctantly nodded as he closed the door, locking it from the inside. My eyes widened at the realization: he locked me out! But I stood my ground and stuck my ears onto the door. I could hear his frantic steps, and I could hear him throwing something to the ground. He was saying something I couldn’t make out, then it was silent. The door flung open, causing me to stumble into his arms.

“Eight years later and you’re still falling for me?” He smugly said.

I stuck my tongue out to him, and that is when I realized what he was wearing. He had an actual tux on, like a cute little penguin. He had a yellow rose on his front pocket, and his face broke out into a smile when I looked up.

“You’re not wearing any pants.” I said, stifling a laugh while looking at his Perry the Platypus boxers.

“That’s because when I was just about to put on pants, I heard someone impatiently listening in to what I was doing.”

I smiled at him proudly, then I tried to take a peek of what was behind him. To my dismay, he tsked and blocked my view.

“If you’re going to keep doing that, how am I supposed to propose to you perfectly?”

His eyes widened at what he said, and closed his mouth shut. I was practically peeing myself now, the excitement rushing through me like a drug. He looked at me again, running his hand through his hair.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that okay?”

I nodded, unable to say anything. He then opened the door, and it revealed all my bags and books. They were arranged by color and shape, most books inside a bag. Petals of roses covered the floor, and it was dimly lighted. My brain buffered for a good minute, before I finally noticed him kneeling in front of me with what looked like a handle on his head.

“I know you treat your books and bags as your life. You treat them delicately, and every bag has a book. Everything you need is in a bag, and when you need a good distraction you have your book. I have that connection with my toys, but in a manly way.”

I laughed at what he said, tears brimming at my eyes.

“So I want to ask you this: could I be the one to carry your bag forever?”

I stared at him like he was an alien, not understanding what he said.

“I mean, you said earlier your bag is your life right?”

I nodded, still confused.

“Then could I carry you all your life?”

Realization struck me, and my heart skipped several beats, making me wonder if I was going to have a heart attack. I smiled at him, and slowly nodded. He smiled at me, slipping in the simple diamond ring into my finger. He then lifted me up, and I squealed in delight.

“What with the hair prop though?”

He put me down, then smiled like a little boy.

“I was going to dress up as a bag and say ‘Could I be a part of your life?’, but I figured that I was already a part of it. But I figured that out after I bought this.”

I laughed at his cheesiness, then he lifted me up bridal style.

“Shall I carry my fiance towards our bedroom?”

I looked around the mess in the living room, and looked at him.

“You know you’re going to clean this all up later. I don’t want my bags and books getting ruined because you-“

I was cut off by his lips, passionately entrancing me into a spell. I swear his kisses should be bottled up somewhere and be an illegal drug. He walked towards our room, and closed it with his foot. He slowly put me down, kissing the top of my nose.

“Care to dance my fiance?”

I stepped into his arms, and he began to sway us back and forth. I smiled onto his chest, excited what else life would bring me and my permanent bag carrier.
—————————-
Once again, fictional. I feel like a sappy romantic these days and my stories reflect it. Have a nice weekend! 😀

The mirror’s presage

An abrupt pain causes me to look at my arm, and I stealthily swat the buzzing culprit away. My groggy eyes look up, the eerie silence slowly creeping up to me. It was almost like those cowboy movies were there was a whistle of wind blowing the sand and a tumbleweed would pass by. Except in my reality the wind was caused by a fan blowing very fast(the controls were broken) that it would actually better if I turned it off, and the tumbleweed was the unopened envelopes that were blown by the fan.

I stand up for the fourteenth time since the office closed at eight, and to be honest I thought I was going to lose some weight after standing up for so many times and picking up runaway envelopes. But when I sit back down my belly just protruded itself. I sigh, and I return to sorting out the envelopes. I glance at the clock, and I groan when I see that it has only been two hours since I started. I reach for another parchment, and I notice that it had something heavy inside it. I felt curious, knowing that people rarely sent letters with objects in it. I look around, and I mentally slap myself. No one was here. I’m alone. Very slowly, and clumsily if I may add, I opened the brown covered parchment. I heard a jingle as I reached my hand into it.

“Joel.”

I heard a soft whisper, and my heart beats louder. A million thoughts rushed into my head, the one dominating was someone caught me.

“Joel.”

I hear it again, and goosebumps erupt all over my body. After a few moments everything becomes quiet again, and I gulp down hard then I take out the object from the package. When I look at it, I see my own reflection. For a moment I felt my soul leave my body, but then I realized it was a mirror with a small key chain. I understood where the jingling sound came from, but it still didn’t explain why I heard someone call my name.

“Joel.”

A buff voice called, and I almost dropped the mirror. I shakily looked around, and I sighed to myself thinking that after 5 years of working here every night alone, it was only now that I was imagining things. I shake the feeling off, but then I hear it again. And my eyes widened when I realized where the sound came from.

“Joel.”

With shaky hands, I hold the mirror. I turn it around, and I felt my heart stop for a moment. My reflection, if it was my reflection, was staring right at me. My jet black hair became all white, and I wrinkles that were never there. But that didn’t freak me out. No. It was the fact that my eyes were rolled over my head, so that it only showed the white part. There was blood currently dripping from my nose. My mouth was open, my teeth cracked. And the creepiest part? The blood came out of the mirror and was dripping on my khaki pants. Just when I was about to look away, a haunted laugh rang through the silent office.

“Joel. Silly Joel. You’re stuck here forever.”

The reflection moved it lips, although it’s pupils were still missing and the nose hasn’t stopped bleeding.

“Someday Joel, you’ll look like this.”

I slam the mirror unto my cubicle wall, and it smashed into pieces. Another laugh echoed, and in horror I saw one of the pieces of the broken mirror sticking into my arm. I slowly remove it, closing my eyes as I endured the pain. But when I opened my eyes, I only saw the dead mosquito I have killed only minutes ago. I cold chill ran up my spine, and I see the parchment in front of me, unopened. I hurriedly got my coat and caught a cab home.

The next day, a package arrived.

Yes or no?

My hands were sweaty and my feet were actually shaking. There she was, in all her beauty as we ran into each other in the empty hall of the school. She was with her classmate, and I was with a friend. She seemed to come out of nowhere, but I beamed. She was singing “All by myself” loudly,and immediately stopped when she saw me and smiled. She already knew I liked her. And she seems so cool with that fact. Ever since I admitted it to her last Saturday, I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t even wait til Monday came so I could see her again.
All day I’ve tried to catch a glimpse of her, and she seemed to pop out of nowhere just as I was thinking of her. It was like she read my mind or something. Although I chickened out to go to the cafeteria for lunch because I knew she would be there, I really wanted to see her. She gave my feet an extra bounce. When I saw her after lunch, she just pinched me and even noticed my haircut. I smiled widely, and pinched her back.
I’ve liked her for three years now, and I just came around to telling her because I knew after Graduation Day there was less chance to tell her. She made me feel like/love at first sight, since the moment I saw her face peering into our classroom looking for her friend when I was eleven(yes, ELEVEN). She swept me off my feet that moment, even though I should have done the sweeping since I was the guy. I met her officially through my friend, and with shaky hands and puberty peering everywhere, I introduced myself to her. I never wanted to wash my hands, especially when she said I was the first guy to shake her hand during introductions.
Now going back to what was really happening in front of me, I saw her turn to the left, going towards where I was headed. She was whispering something to her friend. Suddenly, I didn’t know what came over me, but I grabbed her arm and made her turn to me. Her friend walked on, not even noticing her absence. My friend walked on too, knowing what I was going to do.
I held her hand, and felt that it was soft and small. My heart raced faster than any car, as I knelt down in front of her, and I could see her blush. It was darn cute. I shook off the instinct of daydreaming, and looked up to her eyes. ‘You’re fourteen years old. Get a grip’ I told myself.  I must have looked like a lost puppy before I finally blurted out:
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
I swear my heart stopped, waiting for her answer. She smiled, unable to control herself. She then whispered,
“Maybe.”
And walked away towards her friend. I was dumbfounded, and I grinned so much that my cheeks hurt. That one word, two syllables. Even when she said maybe, at least she didn’t say no right? I’m going to court her, like they did in the old days and then ask her again to be my girlfriend when the time is right.

(more than two years later, we’re still together)

That through which we see..

It’s something that enters your eye when your cries first echo into the world. Everything is blurry and unknown, and yet there is something bright, letting you know you’re alive. It’s something you see on top of a cake, as you blow it away with all your wishes buried deep in your heart. You look up and see everyone you love whose eyes reflect it. It’s something that illuminates the room when your alone crying, your hand clutching at a picture that you once lovingly looked upon. When everything seems like the opposite of it, you look up and you see that it was never gone. It is something that irritates you when your hangover kicks in, causing the throbbing in your head to worsen. You try to turn over and ignore it, but it creeps at you, trying to push you off your bed.

You feel it when you’re hugged tightly by someone you love, as your heart hammers inside your chest. You hear it when you’re in a beach all alone, as the waves crash into the sand. You taste it when your girlfriend kisses you, as you lick your lips to relish the feeling of her lips on yours as you drop her off at her house. You smell it in a flower patch or in a bakery, as it seeps into your nose and conjures up memories long forgotten.

It is something you see when the church doors open to reveal the love of your life walking down the aisle. You see it glitter in her eyes as you slip in the ring on her finger, and you see it again in her smile. It is something you see when you see your child for the first time, as you lull him/her in your arms. You feel like a big giant compared to them, but you don’t care. You’re going to give them everything anyway. It is something that escapes you when you see your wife happy with someone else. You feel robbed and fooled, as you hold in the tears that threaten to fall. But when you see her again it’s like it never happened, and you love her just as much.

You feel it when you see your child fussing over her wedding dress, as she tries to hide the excitement she feels. Although she is being taken away from you, you don’t feel it. Because you know she has chosen well, and she’s happy. You hear it when your daughter’s child giggles when you hold her, the way she babbles nonsense words at you. You taste it when your favorite food collides in your mouth, as you chew it slowly, savoring every bitterness or sweetness.You smell it in the morning as your wife hums slowly while clutching the spatula in her hand. You never notice the way her voice breaks, or the tear stains in her eyes. You just know you feel happy with her in your home.

It is something that you see fifty times on a cake when your kids come over your house. It’s something that reflects on your eyeglass when a flash illuminates the faces of your kids and grand kids. You see it in your her eyes, but sadly it is when she stares at her husband. Your heart breaks a little, yet you smile at them, letting them know that it’s okay. It is something that dances in your living room as it catches the curtains of your house. It is something that spreads into your house, as you desperately try to escape the suffocating air.

You smell it when you’re finally out of the house, although you cough several times. You taste it when water finally enters your mouth, satisfying a thirst you never knew was there. You hear it from her voice, coaxing you to stay awake. You feel it when she holds your hand, vanishing all the pains you’ve felt all these years without her.

It is something that you see, a small dot, a small tunnel. You try to grasp for it, you try to reach it. You hear her voice somewhere, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You try to reach for that something, afraid it might go away. And when you do reach it, you breath in the new air, as your cries once again echoes for the first time into the world, this time as another soul.

Light.

Crumpled Paper

I stare at it. And it stares back at me. I may look like an idiot for looking at this damned paper for two hours, crumpling and uncrumpling it, I just have a feeling that I shouldn’t throw it away. And so to no one’s surprise, I open the paper again. I stare at it, wishing that it would fill up by itself. I examine the yellow paper that has blue lines, but alas the only words written was the same thing I have written two hours ago.

“She ran through the corridor, her red dress torn..”

Ugh. What next? Damn this writer’s block! I crumple it again, this time like I was going to tear it apart. I put my head down on my desk, full on exhausted. I begin to play characters in my head. And one by one they come alive in my mind.

“She ran through the corridor, her red dress torn. He catches up to her, a knife behind his back. His face is calm, charming even..”

My head snaps up, and I look for my crumpled paper. I frantically search for it, almost flipping over the office. I mentally slap myself for throwing it away. I check my table and my chair but I never found it. I knew I shouldn’t have thrown it away. I peer into my trash can, separating the bond paper from my yellow paper. Good thing I never throw gross stuff in here.

“Hey you okay? You need anything? Your office is a mess.” Gaby suddenly says in one breath.

I struggle not to roll my eyes at him. He was still eye candy after all. I smile at him and say,

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

He then gives me a thumbs up, and walks out of my office. He was lucky to be an art specialist. He’d never experience writer’s block like I do. I suddenly remember what I was doing and I search my papers once again. When I had the yellow papers in one container, I began to open them one by one. Lo and behold, I discovered some old stories I tried to write earlier this week. My eyebrows scrunch together as I read them. I wrote stories that started great, then ended up with dot.dot.dot. Some had titles, some didn’t. Titles and endings were my kryptonite. I read on.

“You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. I repeated this mantra over and over again till I reached our apartment door. As it creaked open, Eric shouted..”

“A single heartbeat. A whisper. A moment that could never be repeated..”

“I stare at the man who is so called my husband. He’s ridiculously putting on his tie, his thumbs graciously moving. He looks at me with a small smile..”

Wow. I never thought that I wrote these. I look at all the crumpled paper around me, all with a story to share. I blink, and a ridiculous rush goes through me. I want to finish all of this! I suppressed a squeal, knowing fully that I was known around the office as the “weird writer”. I start up to my desk, and I do an eenie meenie miney mo on which story I should do first. That’s when I saw it.

Sam’s cat, the woman next to my office, was playing with one of my yellow papers. I stand up and try to grab the paper, but to my misfortune the cat ran. I sigh, running my fingers through my black hair. I put my hair into a messy bun and sat down. I look at the papers once again. All crumpled papers, each one with an amazing story.

 The question is: What’s next? That’s for me to decide. 😀