A Simple Theory

Lately, I find myself being quite a magnet for being consistently beleaguered with a bevy of boisterous individuals, hell bent on attaining cheap and quick success in life.

Some are complete strangers, whilst some, pitifully are those I once considered friends in one way or another. What irks me most is not the fact that they are malnutritioned from the blood, sweat and tears that is hard work, but that astonishingly, these people loathe those that pulverize and grimace with pain each day to attain their goals.

"Work smart, not work hard", they moaned with a glee of satisfaction.

How trivial I thought to myself as they continued watching others from their coffee shop seats and repleting finances.

As much as I want to contain myself from harbouring ill intentions toward them, I know I've failed. Deep inside me, I yearn for the day I shall look below upon these people and laugh away at where cheap talks and lazy walks had brought them.

I vow to myself to ignore the Bastards once and for all. I strongly believe in that quote that states... If You Don't Scale The Mountains, You Can't View The Plains.

Connecting People

Airports, with an exhaustive myriad of people from all around the globe, can be quite an unusual, unconventional, yet very apt location to just people watch. Being quite an lover for metropolitan city states with its fast paced shuffling, 24-hr eateries and dry subway humour, I found myself locked yet again, in a web of transit.

As soon as I alighted from my transit flight, I trudged within the mazy tunnel which was unusually dim, still reeking of that aeroplane smell. The massive steel structure and architectural feat that is the new Bangkok International Airport soon greeted me as I gasped and marveled in awe, trying to logically fathom how those engineers did it. Before long, I gave up, as I made a beeline toward the smoking room.

2 hours before my 20-hour flight to New York City. It was imperative that I had my dietary supplement of ash and tar and harmful nicotine. Staring blissfully at formless smoke blown out of one's mouth...nothing like cigarettes to recharge and perk you up for an arduous journey strained within the confinements of a miserable seat, stuck between two fat people, with only in-house entertainment TV, and a good book for comfort. Secretly though, I wished I had the courage and guts to smoke in that small cubicle of a loo on board...but nahh...I wouldn't wanna be an odd commodity attracting stares throughout the long journey.

The smoking lounge was as miserable as a prison cell, size wise that is. But at least the authorities spared a thought for fellow smokers to curb their urges. Nevertheless, I wasn't complaining. I squeezed my way to the last unoccupied space between a burly Caucasian and a trendy young Japanese man. As accommodating as the situation was, I lit up.

The lounge was cold as it was silent as everyone minded their own business, deep in thought. No points for guessing how that much needed smoke fueled their thought process, acting as a peculiar catalyst.

I sat rooted and observed each and everyone of their behaviour. The Caucasian man, burly and scruffy, had a hint of adventure in his blood. His jungle hat was a giveaway, and so were the tattoos and hiking shoes. Must be back from roaming the tropical rainforests of Thailand, I assumed.

An attractive blonde, which I shall assume was Swedish simply for the assumption that most blondes hails from Scandinavia, was wiping dust off her shoes. She was well dressed, and looked every bit a New Yorker. Perhaps giving me a sneak preview of the flavour of women paving the New York streets.

And as I shifted my gaze upon the Japanese man, I was awed to perfection. Finished with his cigarette, he whipped out his mobile phone which had a bigger screen than usual. He fidgeted with the keys before dialling in a number. Upon establishing a connection, he began moving his hands and making weird signs with his fingers as he 'spoke'.

I peered over his shoulder as close as my chin could go. The person in the large LCD screen was 'speaking' back in similar fashion. Having helped out in a deaf & mute school for children, I relatively understood the conversation that was ongoing.

It was a conversation between husband and wife. In summary, what I learnt from that few minutes was that the husband had been away for a few months now, on a work project and he was on his way home. They missed each other alot, and he missed his 2 kids at home dearly. He requested for his wife to point the camera toward their sleeping children so that he could catch a glimpse of their angelic faces.

That made him tear a little as he forced a smile followed by soft laughter. He told his wife that he would be back in just a day's time and that he's missing her Roasted Lemon Chicken.

Amazing, I pondered to myself, the beauty of how modern technology bridges two souls together. What deemed an impossible act not too long ago, you wouldn't expect a mobile phone to be of handy use to someone who could not listen, let alone speak.

What I witnessed today opened my mind up to a million possibilities. It is very much comforting to learn that as we move on and embrace new technology, even the less privileged benefits.

Connecting people. I've learnt something new today how that phrase transcends beyond mere communication. In every sense of the word, so simple, yet baffling, the manner in which two souls embraces eternal love and human touch. Whatever technology spills out tomorrow, let us hope that as with mobile phones, it would make the world a better place.

Go Fly a Kite!

Go Fly a Kite.

That was exactly the advice a close friend recently ranted out to me as I whined and rambled about the qualms of both my professional and personal life. "Shut the fuck up and do it", he vehemently urged me as I vividly recalled.

Not one to enjoy kite flying in my growing up years, I could however appreciate the art and mechanics behind kite flying. I was more of the 'guli' or marble kind of boy, besides football and fishing in murky large drains of 1980s Singapore.

Shrugging off the idea, I left it at that...mere coffee shop talk. Until one fine day, well, one fine horrific day at work to be precise, I found myself storming out of the office with my termination letter. Strangely, I remembered feeling light and 'full of spring' for a man that just got fired. Perhaps, I just knew that nothing could possibly get worse henceforth.

With the sun still scorching bright in the afternoon, and office rats rushing back to their meager cubicles, I trudged on happily, briefcase en-towed with a loosely tied necktie around my unbuttoned shirt.

I went to the beach that afternoon to be alone and reflect on recent incidents. I took off my shoes, rolled up my trousers and buried my feet in the soft subtle sand by the coast, leaving my imprints on the beach as I lined the coast. And there just up ahead, was an old Chinese man, dead to his surroundings as he stoned near his makeshift stall, selling home made kites.

"What the hell", I thought to myself as I paid for one. It had a smiley face printed on one side. How ironic.

I dumped my belongings by the side and went out onto the open beach, wind howling across my face and hair. I stretched the kite out with my right arm as ran against the wind. With a violent surge forward, I lunged the kite into the open sky as I let the wind take over.

Up up and up it soared as I tried to trace it amidst the blinding sun rays. But there it was smiling back down on me. I felt like a boy once again, free from worldly troubles. I tugged and loosened the string intermittently as I was determined to let the kite stay afloat. In a matter or minutes, I was at the end of the spool.

The next few minutes consisted of a series of ups and downs as the kite plunged land side and me repeating the routine all over again, but it made me feel light for a change. And in one of those instances when the kite was up once again, another kite I was battling swooped in and cut my line and down down down it went. I smiled and it made me ponder.

Kite flying. As trivial as it is, it somehow mirrored life in a way. In life, it's never an easy thing to be successful and happy. But with sheer determination and hard work, it isn't difficult for things to run its course.

There are times when we soar, and times where we delve deep into turbulence. It is the man that gets up and tries that soars once again. There will always be bastards that try to cut u off, but there will always be luck and love, which like the wind, can make one climb once again.

I was a happy man as I made my way back home once again. I'll not know what tomorrow holds for me but one thing's for sure, I'll be trying my best.

And to those out there who is feeling that life has been a little harsh toward you lately, here's a piece of advice..."Shut the Fuck Up, and Go Fly a Kite!"

It helps.

Shoelaces

First you ensure that both ends are of equal length. Cross the laces and pull. Make a bunny ear on the right, and repeat with the left. Cross the bunny ears, make a bow and pull hard. There you go...like millions of others before me, that was probably how your first lesson with shoelaces began.

It was a heavy meal by my standards, nothing quite marvelous, but acceptable. It could have been better but I wasn't one to complain that day. We strolled along the quay side river and sat upon an abandoned bench with rays of sunshine coyly penetrating through gaps of grey clouds.

The air smelt and hinted of rain, but I wasn't going to let that deprive me of some quality time with you what with the wind subtly beating upon my face and dragging me to slumberland.

The river seemed calm and the soft murmuring of the river boat in the distant added to the charm of the colourful shophouses lining what used to be a thriving settlement. As the boat loomed nearer, you can make out the eager tourists with their cameras and video recorders, pointing to something whimsical that attracted their curiosity.

These scenes contorted a heartwarming backdrop to our special moment together in close proximity, discussing varied topics from wordly issues to mindless bickering and debatable humour. Just as we were laughing and arguing, she casually pulled one end of my shoelace like a playful puppy. I wasn't angry at all, but after 25 years of bunny ears and pulling, who likes it right?

Fast forward a year later, the setting was similar albeit now in a different country. The sky was painted with gloom as the cobblestone path seemed wet, guilty of rain just moments earlier.

I sat upon a lonely bench, thinking of home as I unwrapped my sandwich and reminiscence. I really missed her so. There was a mother of two nearby trying to control her unruly but undeniably cute rascals. They had blonde hair and envious eyes. They were chasing, and irritating one another repeatedly,one brother and one sister...but they seemed loving.

Just as their mother gave both quite a tongue lashing, the sister cunningly unlaced her brother's right shoe. He was just about 4 years old and his mother obligingly bent down and muttered,"First you ensure that both ends are of equal length. Cross the laces and pull. Make a bunny ear on the right, and repeat with the left. Cross the bunny ears, make a bow and pull hard."

I smiled to myself, frozen with thought. I didn't know it until now though it has always been there.

At times I miss you alot. But at most times, I miss you more.

Drawing Faces

As a child, Ben has always been one of the brighter kids at school in an unconventional manner that is. And though his zest for learning was overflowing, somehow his investments of energy doesn't seem to transcend down toward his grades. His debatable grades harbor toward the borderline cases less for his language subjects.

As a result, he has always been the bane of his mother for not being able to emulate his elder siblings who's undaunted heaps of appraisals for colourful marks sky rocketed them to the elites of their school.

Now besides languages, Ben mastered in his Art class. Constantly being ridiculed by his mother and siblings, they made him feel how wrong and unsuccessful a career Art can be. Everyone in his class usually marvelled at his paintings, drawings, and artifacts. No one knows where he got his Art genes from, but in short, Ben was simply magnificent for his age.

As much as his mother doesn't want to admit to Ben's keen eye for the arts, countless times during one of those mundane parents' teachers' meeting, she would hear Ben's form teacher muttering under her breath, "Your son Ben....well...he's just one of those creatively inclined students. And thats that. I do not know how else I can motivate the boy. He doesn't cause any trouble...well...except for his marvellous grafitti on his desk". Ironic isn't it?

And so as the prophecy goes, Ben got accepted to a good Art school, going against his mother's wishes to pursue Art as a career. He aced and came out tops in the entire cohort and in just a couple of years, he is now lecturing not only in local art institutions, but also in many prestigious art colleges around the world. I myself find it hard to fathom that he is just 28 years old today earning 6 times more than what any of his siblings are earning, having more holidays than his siblings combined, and sleeping peacefully every single night, not having to bother about a certain client, or a project deadline, and robotic accounting windows, unlike his siblings. But yet, he still years for his mother's blessing. "It's not a real job", she would whisper to the chatty neighbours.

Already giving up hope on winning his mothers' favour, Ben led the life he always wanted...unconventionally. And one fine day, his sister called to discuss on a birthday bash for their mothers' grand old 60th. They wanted to discuss about the gift. It was agreed that the siblings were to have dinner at Ben's place that night. After much friendly disagreements as how siblings usually have them, it was agreed that they would do something special, yet simple. They were going to present to their mother, in a grand brass frame, a portrait of herself. And as soon as it was agreed, all of them looked at Ben, automatically implying that he had to be the one responsible for the creative aspect of things. "Easy", Ben cooly replied. Just give me a couple of days to locate a suitable reference photo, and I'll take it from there yea?

No news from Ben, and Mother's birthday was just a day away. Rejecting their calls, his siblings grew worried and fidgety and so Joanne decided to pop by Ben's place that afternoon. Ben still refused to pick up as Joanne stared sparingly at the red front door of Ben's apartment. His car was parked outside so he is definitely at home she thought. "What an asshole", she muttered under her breath.

Joanne rummaged her handbag for extra set of keys Ben trusted her with and opened the door. The house looked like an aftermath of heavy partying and boozing. His winning art pieces hung on the walls, slanted from the norm. There were canvasses on the floor, paint everywhere. His place was a terrific mess. Ben's tattooed body lay sprawled on the floor behind the couch....motionless.

"Hey idiot", Joanne barked out at him as she gently kicked the side of his leg. "Hmmmpf", Ben muffled. "What do you want", Ben forced himself awake. "The portrait asshole...are you done with it? We heard no news from you", Joanne fluttered with desperation. "I haven't started lah. Had a party last night over here. My head hurts. Give me awhile la ok? Lemme just wash up and I'll get down to it", Ben said nonchalantly.

"What!!! You haven't started? How are we going to finish this in time. Are you sure you got time to finish it anot you idiot?", Joanne was on the verge of a catastrophic meltdown. "Relax lah. Kancheong for what? 2 hours can already. Ok?", Ben comforted his sister. He has always been closer to Joanne as compared to his other siblings, for Joanne usually was his accomplice during their growing up years, unlike the other 2 siblings who were basically hardcore nerds.

Ben reappeared 30 minutes later with a roll of canvass under his left arm, an easel in his right hand, and a couple of charcoal pencils. He carefully placed his reference photo and began sketching. Joanne nestled herself comfortably on the couch as she intently peered over Ben's shoulder not wanting to be left out of the artistic developments.

"Hey!!!", Joanne wailed. "Do you think this is a joke? What the hell are you drawing. That doesn't look like Mum", Joanne rattled on as she tilted her head sideways to convince herself that she isn't dreaming. "It looks more like.... me it seems?", she now seems puzzled.

"Yah yah. What the hell do you guys know", Ben defended himself. "Anyway, you're her daughter what, so there must be some form of resemblance right?", Ben sarcastically replied. "I'm not done. This is just the base. Now is the fun part", Ben muttered, with a glint in his eye and his head tilted back at an angle, as if absorbing the energy from the canvas.

Joanne stood up and pulled a stool so that she could sit closer to Ben. "You remembered in Primary School when I chose to join the Art Club instead of Science Club?", Ben asked his sister. "Well Mum was really disappointed", Ben continued as he added a fine line across the forehead. "And then I failed one of the year end exams badly and couldn't progress to the next level. That deserved a few more lines", Ben exclaimed as he let his charcoal do the talking.

"Father had an affair when we were in Secondary School, that really took a toll on Mum", Ben muttered again as he drew a deeper groove this time near the temple and below the eyes. "It took a good 1 year before the divorce case was settled", Ben recollected as he added a few more fine lines here and there.

Joanne now began to see how the portrait began to unfold as she began to see more of her mother now. "Remember December 1998?", Ben quizzed Joanne. We attended our prom night, we got drunk and didn't come home. Mum got really angry at you, and at me for dragging you along. "If only she knew the truth back then about who devised that plan!", Ben smirked at his sister Joanne as he added a few more creases onto the face.

"And this is for the time i got my first tattoo, and when I opted for Art School, and when I went into NS. And when you were dating that older guy. Wait...older ugly guy! Haha", Ben laughed, together with Joanne as they reminisced the past. "And this is when Debra miscarried her first child. And this is for when the house caught fire one evening and we had to stay with Aunty Sue for a couple of months. God Mum hated Aunty Sue's husband", Ben went on.

Slowly but slowly, Joanne found herself starring at her mother, who is looking straight back at her from the canvass. "She seems sad Ben. Can you do something about it", Joanne commented with a tear in her eyes.

"Wait lah. Still not done.", Ben defended himself. "Remember the day Dylan was born? Mum shed tears of joy in welcoming her first grand child", Ben shuffle Joanne's memory as he drew some fine lines around the mouth. "And when all of you guys graduated from the university, and when all of you got married, and when Thomas got that president achievement thingy", Ben continued as he drew those fine crevices so it formed a smile on his mother's face.

"There, I'm almost done", said Ben as he applied the finishing touches. "Wow", Joanne gasped. "You're really brilliant. You're really something. Gift from God you are", Joanne exclaimed as she sat amazed. "Somehow, I still feel something is amiss", Joanne muttered as she snatched the charcoal pencil from her youngest brother.

"What the hell? What do you mean? What are you doing?", Ben fretted as Joanne brought the charcoal closer to the canvas. Joanne drew in another fine line around her Mother's mouth. "And what's that supposed to be?", Ben seemed puzzled and eager to know. "You know how much Mum doesn't show her appreciation toward you?", Joanne paused for a while. "Well, its not as bad as it seems. She's old fashioned yes. But she has always told us that she loved you most. And she is very proud of what you are today, albeit choosing an unconventional path, whenever she reads your name in the papers or see you on television, she never fail to say this...",Joanne stopped, with tears already welling in her eyes.

"What?", Ben whispered. She would say proudly to all, "That's my son Ben. My son."



- Inspired by an ageless Enid Blyton classic.

Home Sweet Home

It had been a hectic week for us all. To squeeze everything for completion before the long weekend break was near impossible. Or so we all thought, right up till 11pm that Friday evening as we switched off the lights to the office and waved goodbye to the week that just eluded by.

It was too early a night or so I concluded to be retiring into comfortable pyjamas and a comforting mug of simmering hot chocolate. And so I asked if anyone was up for some drinks. I was in the mood to party, and so were thousands of others lining up the quay side pubs and cafes.

"I promised my wife I'll have supper with her", said one. Understandable. "I want to spend some time with my parents", said another. Forgivable, considering the hours we put in at work. I reckon he only gets to see his parents during the weekends, despite living in the same house.

"My cousins are coming over. We got a PS3 battle scheduled for tonight", said the other. I looked over my shoulder to the remaining two colleagues, half expecting them to bid farewell. I couldn't be bothered to know their interest level anymore. "Erm..I wanna spend time with the family", said one. "I'll join you", said the Malaysian.

Smiling, we eagerly trudged forward toward the taxi stand, half excited, and half asking what just happened a few brief moments ago. Brothers, Families, Children, Parents. Families. Such is the plight of expatriates, plying their trade, be it far away or just in the neighbouring countries, nevertheless, we're still alone. And more often than not, though I for sure hide it so well from my exterior, I do miss home. And I'm sure my Malaysian colleague felt the same way too.

The night didn't disappoint. We made new friends, we had fun, we sweated on the dance floor, and most importantly, for that few minutes, we felt like we were home, right up till the lights came on and suddenly, the dance floor seemed smaller as compared to when the lights were flickering along the pulsating bass lines. Then reality smacks us right back in the face. Time to go home. No. To loneliness.

"So Duncan, tell me, what's your fondest memory of home?", I asked. He didn't need to deliberate as he began his story.

"I was about ten", he flashed back. I could tell from the far away look in his eyes how his mind journeyed back in time. "It was the best time of my life. All the rascals were drafted into the same class. All of which were my closest friends. We rode our rusty bicycles to school each morning, laughing, mocking and mimicking the teachers we disliked in school."

"Then some time just after the mid year holidays, we had this milk campaign. We all had to order those liquid milk that came in packets of 6s. To grow strong bones and teeth they said. And for our art project, my friends and I, we decided to do up a wall mural. It was kind of like the ones you see in the doctor's waiting room. The ones with all the animals and you have to stand beside it to monitor your growth in height. And they had this giraffe as the tallest animal. We had that too. It was beautiful at the time."

"We grew up of course. Went to different schools. But we remained friends. Then during Chinese New Year earlier this year, I went back to my hometown. It was a ritual for most robust young men to venture out of small town Ipoh to harvest their rewards. My friends did it, and so did I. It was indescribable. The 5 of us, together once again. With money this time round. How trivial. Then one of them suggested to visit the old school."

"It didn't seem like fun at first, but we didn't have a better plan. And so with a couple of beers we drove toward that side of town. It wasn't difficult to spot the pale yellow walls of our former school. It was peeling with age, but the emblem still stood out proudly from the main building, with its bold lettering below it. The cemented road had major cracks in between, but that was it. The rest, was just as how we left it. Even the air smelt the same, except that it was silent now, missing were the frantic laughter of children within the compound."

"We trudged up toward the second floor and loitered along the corridor as we approached our former classroom. And as unimportant as it is, it was weird that we all still remembered where we sat and where the other blokes of the class were sitting. Good times we all thought. Then as we were about to leave, one of us wailed in delight as he pointed at the door entrance."

"There, in its faded glory was that mural we all did all those years back. You could still make out the numbers by the side if you were to just concentrate a little longer. The mural seemed midgety all of a sudden as we all seemed like overgrown giants now. But the mural brought about silence that moment. We didn't say it out, but I knew for a fact that at that exact moment, we all remembered who we really were and how innocent and fulfilling those growing up years were. It was a miracle how all of us faced life adversities from young punks to aspiring professionals. And for once in the longest time, we felt free."

I gasped as I tried to share the beautiful memory my friend had of his growing up days and home town. I didn't expect this for an answer to my question, but his story struck a chord in my heart. Sometimes people do not appreciate the fact that they have a home to go to every day, no matter how long they spend their time in the office, no matter how hard they slogged that day.

Brothers, Families, Children, Parents. Friends. Always close, but never close it seems for us expatriates. At best, we see them briefly perhaps once, twice....at best three times a year. If I were to ask that question to a hundred expats, I would get a hundred different answers. All of which reminds us of home in the unique manner we choose to remember it by. All of which, priceless as priceless can be, will forever be our Home Sweet Home picture.

I Love Thee

I Love Thee,
I Love But Thee,
With a Love That Shall Not Die,
Till The Sun Grows Cold,
And The Stars Grow Old.

- William Shakespeare

The Addict

Ash as he was colloquially called, looked brittle and worn. The area around his eyes gave the impression that he had applied some kind of cosmetic. It was black as soot, very much panda like. How ironic, as you may perhaps deduced where he got his name from. His eyes seemed dead and struggling to blink, though in a daze.

Ash rummaged his wardrobe, frantically searching for his fix. He began to perspire profusely as he emptied his drawers. He mumbled to himself whilst continuing surging with his search. He looked under the mattress, in his wallet, in his jeans pocket and yet he couldn't find what he was looking for. The only thing that was important to him his whole life.

Tears rolled down his cheek as he struggled to come to terms that he had run out on drugs. He yearned for it. Depended on it. It had become part of his flesh and blood, streaming in his veins, he needed it to keep himself calm and think happy thoughts.

Full of angst, he pressed a couple of numbers on his mobile phone and impatiently waited for the other party to pick up the telephone. It seemed longer than usual and Ash began to pull his hair. "Yes?", the heavy bass-like voice answered on the other line. "Do you have some on you?", Ash struggled with his stuttering voice. "I have a couple of pills on me. Be here in an hour", the other guy said without saying goodbye.

Ash clenched the few pieces of notes he had on the dressing table, tiptoed to his mother's room and crept toward her cupboard. Like a mouse, he silently took some cash and was out of the house in a flash.

Before long, he arrived at one of the smaller neighbourhoods on this little island country. The blocks seemed to be breathing new life as a fresh coat of paint was recently applied to it. Part of the neighbourhood upgrading. Hiding years of moss and algae that had previously conjured its walls, especially those on the lower floors.

Ash hid behind one of the pillars of the opposite block as he dialled the number again. He allowed it to ring about four times before shutting it off. A signal for the guy to drop of his goods at the usual place. Ash became wary all of a sudden about his surroundings. He looked left and right and fidgeted with his hands as he trudged forward toward his destination. Unknown to him, he was being watched.

Ash walked past the elevators before darting up the stairs to the third storey. He opened the piping cabinet and grabbed the little ziploc left for him on the concrete floor. He placed the money there and scampered down the corridor, as he examined the contents of the ziploc. He smiled to himself, with satisfaction and full of glee.

As he trudged down the staircase at the other end of the block, he popped the pills into his mouth, affording a smile as he felt the pills slither down his throat. He walked toward the vending machine at the void deck as he emptied the coins in his jeans to get some liquid to drain down his pills. All this while, his watchers kept a roving eye on him, contemplating on whether to go for Ash, a small time consumer or the big fish instead. "You tail him", one officer said to the other. "I'll look out on the third floor", he whispered.

Before the officer could reach Ash, he was already on his way as he hailed and boarded the taxi cab in a jiffy. Ash tilted his back as he sat so that he could park his heavy head unto the headrest. He closed his eyes and allowed the drugs to take effect.

Ash felt light all of a sudden, as though he was being lifted from the ground. He felt good all of a sudden as he rhythmically grooved with the drug. It sure felt good alright as his heart kept pounding faster. Millions of lights darted into his vision though his eyes were closed. Lights of all shapes and colours. A million colours! They formed all sorts oh shapes and weird objects. Ash felt as though he was watching the most brilliant commercial or movie. This was the life....or so it seemed as he languished in this comforting high.

What seemed like seconds, and the taxi cab pulled over at Ash's block. He passed the driver whatever cash he had, too eager to wait for his change as he hurried out of the cab and walked briskly in zig zag fashion for he could hardly feel his legs. Meanwhile, the officer who had been trailing him pulled up on the other end of the block, as he prepared to ambush a weakened Ash.

Ash dragged himself forward, creeping against the walls for support as the lift seemed Oh so far away. All he could think of was his dark humid room. how much he wanted to just rot in his bed and enjoy the effect the drug had on him. It was just moments away, or so he thought.

Just as he was about to press the lift button, a firm hand gripped his wrist. "What the hell are you doing Ash?", an all familiar voice boomed through the silence. Ash forced his puffy eyes open and looked at the officer. "Adam? What do you want?", Ash tried to sound normal but he couldn't hide his actual state of high. "Why are you doing this Ash? The last time I met you, you said you're done. You're clean. You promised! What's going on Ash?", Adam quizzed as he himself fell into a daze of confusion.

"I got to take you in Ash. You need help", Adam continued. "No!!!!", Ash barked at Adam. "Let me go....let me go!!", he tried to wrestle with his cousin Adam but the officer was just too strong for him. "Please...pleasee", Ash begged with tears in his eyes. "You owe me this one Adam. Remember the things I did for you back then. Don't forget where you came from Adam. You just don't forget!", Ash bargained with his cousin, who used to be more like an younger brother to him back then.

As confused as anyone could ever get, Adam loosened his grip and allowed Ash to disappear into the lift. Millions of thoughts haunted Adam soon after as never expected to come face to face with his drug addict cousin. His walkie talkie broke the uncomfortable silence and echoed in the corridor. "Did you get him? What's your location..over", his partner asked. Adam let the officer in on his location and waited for him before they proceeded to Ash's residence.

The officers caused such an upheaval, considering the blood ties that was involved between officer and addict. Neighbours awoke and crowded the corridor as Ash left the house, barefooted, high, in hand cuffs, and leaving behind a distraught father, and a crying mother.

That night, Adam tried hard to rest and get some shut eye. Memories of younger days shoved him in his thoughts and Adam questioned his integrity between family and work. He felt though he had cheated on the most important thing he held close to him. Adam felt deep regret though he knew it was probably the best thing his cousin needed to finally wake up.

Adam didn't see Ash again until 4 months later when he got news that Ash had committed suicide in his jail cell. Surprisingly Ash seemed calm and comforted as he was lowered into the grave. Jail was just too much for Ash it seemed. Guilty as one could be, for the rest of his life, Adam knew he could not shrug the guilt he is feeling.

Not a single day went by without Adam asking himself What If questions. What If he had let Ash go that day? What if he wasn't going for that rank promotion? What if life was just as simple as it was back then? Just two kids, full of mischief, running down the corridor in their mud stained shorts, after breaking the neighbours flower pot. After all, that will always be how Adam remembers his cousin Ash.

Broken

If I were to be interviewed one fine day, and the reporter were to ask me what was the most difficult thing men can ever come across in life, I already have my answer.

Growing up and being told what to do? You can always rebel or oddly sneak out and do the prohibited anyhow. Studying your socks off? Its more about the question of sound time management and a cure for laziness. Striking it rich? Climbing that tall corporate ladder?

I've always felt that it is within our control to manifest our dreams. Only sometimes we need a little luck, and a sprinkle of the right opportunity trudging our way. But breaking a promise? Now that's heart wrecking.

Wednesdays. I really hate Wednesdays. For Wednesdays reminds me of horrifying end to end liaising and paper work and endless jabbering on the telephone with someone that's as irrelevant as they are important in my line of work.

The minutes ticked surprisingly quickly the moment I stepped into the office. I tried my best to delay my task proper. I lugged myself to the pantry for a miserable cup of coffee and already soft biscuits...i strolled back to my cubicle, switched on my terminal, and fiddled with my phone before it began to beep.

"Can we have dinner tonight?", it read. "Sure. Can't wait to see you tonight", was my careless reply. Not thinking through but rather acting purely out of love and badly missing that someone.

"Shucks!", I thought to myself. It's god damn Wednesday. I don't even know if I was going to have time for lunch! But I tried, to the best of my abilities to prioritize my tasks and sorted whatever I could as efficiently and swiftly as possible. Things were looking good.

As each hour passes, she would text me eagerly over the phone. At 12 Noon, it read, "7 hours before I see you". At 2pm, it read, "5 more hours". Those messages never failed to lift my spirits despite the chaos I was going through. But it was going to be well worth it I mused to myself. Spending a simple quiet dinner with your loved one after a long arduous day.

At 5pm, things were looking suspiciously good. Then something happened that could have happened to any other person in the creative industry. You got to rush an urgent AD. Your whole world crashes on you as I morbidly pictured her face transforming into a heap of black sadness. Now conveying to her this piece of news, it needs a man to be supported with a battalion of courage to do so.

ADVERTISING: If it doesn't kill you...it murders you.


Surprisingly, she took it rather well. That's the first sign you're in big trouble. Like any other man, you'll probably expect a string of Whys and How Could Yous coming your way. But all I got was a sleek OK..I understand.

I didn't blame her for feeling a heave of mess and sadness. I didn't mind not having a thing to eat for lunch or dinner that day, hoping that whatever time I saved, it would increase my chances of meeting her for dinner that night.

I didn't mind, having just a few hours of sleep almost every single day, for I'd somehow feel rejuvenated around her presence.

I only hated myself for breaking a promise. Reading her text messages earlier that day made me feel worst. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do in the longest time, and I hope I don't have to do it ever again. If I do, just so you know, I'm deeply sorry. I only wanted the best. Always have, and Always will.

Answered in Silence

There were many fleeting questions that streamed through my mind the past few weeks. None of which I could muster up an answer to.

I asked. I asked myself. I even questioned my heart. Still, the silence grips me in a stranglehold, as more and more questions flooded my head.

How funny those feelings scamper away when I'm with you.

As you gradually disappeared into the drifting taxi cab that night, instincts compelled me to turn. The same exact moment you looked back at me. I forced myself to a wry smile in your direction. The other half of me wanted to just run forward. But smaller and smaller you disappeared into the long road, admist the subdued silence.

Queer as it was, I wasn't even questioning, nor was I asking. I just felt what I saw, and then I knew, the answers to all my questions.

It has always been in front of me. YOU.


P.S: Bily.

A Rather Disturbing Dream

As I woke up one clear Friday morning, I somehow knew something was amiss amidst the seemingly clear blue skies, free from fluffy white clouds. It wasn't often, considering the tropical climate of an equatorial country, for the skies to paint itself a deep concentrated blue hue, like a 16th century painting hanging in a museum.

We were totally caught off guard, in such a trying time as the economy stretched our dollars apart. We got the house, then the newly acquired car, and a couple of life's simple luxuries which we can't live without. But the gift of life was always one we shouldn't push aside. If it is His wish to bless us with a shining light, perhaps he has his ways to shower us with whatever necessary to aid us through to the welcoming of our first born child.

Too many a times have I witnessed close relatives and friends receive similar news with tears welled up in their eyes. But how different it felt, when it happens to oneself. Consumed by happiness and overwhelmed with excitement, I for one was lost for words when the doctor confirmed the test results.

With added vigor and a new sense of motivation, I propelled myself harder at work, working extended laborious hours, just so I can provide more, for my family, and the anticipated welcoming of our first child. Though what I made seemed rather adequate, it pains me to see my wife propelling just as hard at her job.

Full of admiration for her tenacity and bullish drive, it came to a point her health suffered. It started off light at first, with sporadic headaches and back pains. But it became apparently worse as the months wore on. "It's OK dear", she lamented. "We can do with the extra cash", was what she always says as I brought up the topic of her quitting her job temporarily.

After much consistent persuasion, she finally gave in. It was a good 3 months before the due date, and boy was I glad to know that she finally has proper rest, limiting the possibilites of any complications.

As the days wore on and the welcoming seemed ever so near, I found it ever more so difficult to concentrate at work. My mind was always elsewhere, lingering into mindless day dreams, full of happiness and smiles. It was on one such day that I received a horrific call from my in-law.

"We're on the way to the hospital", she sobbed in between the lines. Her voice, heaved with sadness and fear. Never one to sit idly at home, my wife apparently slipped in the kitchen and passed out. There was just so much blood everywhere, as my in-law recollected her words when she entered the kitchen to find her daughter sprawled on the floor in a bloody mess.

I rushed to the hospital as swiftly as I could, driving like a raging bull, my pessimistic mind filled with negative publicity. I recognized the doctor from afar as he pulled up his hand to get my attention. With a comforting arm around my shoulder, he explained the situation as calmly as a doctor possibly could.

"I'll get straight to the point", his heavy voice spoke. "The good news is that though almost 2 months premature, the baby is safe. Now the bad news is that your wife was hemorrhaging blood when she got here. So much so that she's in a coma", the doctor's voice suddenly faded away as I felt a sense of heaviness within my head as I run my hands over my face.

"Now we have done all we can. The hemorrhaging has ceased but we cannot be sure when will she come out from her coma. It could be a few days. It could be a few years we do not know. Let's all pray shall we?", he comforted me as he opened the door to the ward where I saw my wife's angelic face asleep, like how she always looked so beautiful as she sleeps in my arms.

My in-law got up to leave, as I requested some alone time to recollect the events that happened within the past few hours. The atmosphere was silent like how all hospitals were. Reeking of death and misery. I touched her face, half hoping that the doctor was lying. She remained asleep.

I sat there, running my hands through her hair and talking to myself, hoping that she would come out of her sleep soon so that we can take a look at our child for the first time together.

The days wilted away and still, she laid frozen alive. I have yet to see my child. Relatives lamented on how he had my nose and her lips, but I still remained adamant to the fact that we just had to look at our child for the first time together, just like how the whole journey first began.

The doctors told me to rest as I looked pretty much lethargic, sitting there starring into her eyes. They said that if there was anything that could aid someone out from a coma, it is by hearing the voice of a loved one. Though she remained unconscious, she could still somehow hear. It was a long shot, but I remained positive.

I started to read aloud her favourite books. Mostly fairy tales and the sort. I read her some of the old books we had, which had been shoved away in the store cabinet. I even read her some of the letters and poems which we wrote each other during our courting days.

It was on one such day that I read her one of the first letters I wrote, that I fell asleep on her lap, clutching her palms in mine. I thought I must have been dreaming when I felt her fingers move! Slowly, I raised my head and looked upon her face. Her eyes fluttered open, as though she was opening it for the first time...like a beautiful butterfly that was becoming and taking its maiden flight.

She was back alright, and I could feel the life sucking into me once again as I kissed her on the palms like I always did. "Is the baby alright?", she asked with a glint of concern in her eyes. I comforted her that the baby is fine and healthy. It has been almost a month since she slipped into a coma, and though premature, the baby is doing better than normal, just as what the doctor said.

"Who does he look like?", was her next question. "I don't know for sure. I've yet to see it", I exclaimed. "You liar!", she managed to joke a little as she didn't believe a word I said. "Well it's true. The rest of them have seen him but me. I just thought it would be sweet for us to see our baby for the first time together", I continued.

I shall never forget the first time I saw my bundle of joy, as it laid comfortably nestled in his mother's arms, peering out of the cloth that was wrapping him, eager and curious just as his father is. They say the best moments of raising a child is when you watch him grow, for once he reaches a certain age, they'll just fly away, like how we all did when we left our parents homes.

Though this story was entirely based on a recent dream, I choose to believe that the actions of the characters somehow reflects upon my ideals in life. I'm positively sure I would have reacted just the same.

Pixie the Gnome & The Golden Princess' Tears

After just a few minutes of trailing behind the witty and gallant Yvein, Pixie broke the silence of the forest sanctuary in her cute little voice that went, "Yvein! Do you really know where you're going and how we are going to break Plexine's spell casted upon my friends?". "Of course I do. If there is anything to reverse a magic spell, it would be The Golden Princess's tears. And that is exactly what we are going to do!", Yvein almost boasted with new found confidence.

"But The Golden Princess don't cry. Haven't you heard the tales the elders speak of?", Pixie said in a puzzling manner. "Aha!. That's where you're wrong my friend. You just wait and see what I'm going to do!", Yvein proclaimed. "Now stop whining and lets go. Craven's Nest is not far from here", Yvein began to walk faster.

"Craven's Nest?", Pixie began to feel more clueless than ever. But she trusted Yvein and decided not to irritate him further. The gnomes arrived at Craven's Nest just before the napping hours and just in time to see one of the Cravens nestle into their giant nests. Now Cravens, though they look menacing and ferocious, they really are nice creatures...once you get to know them better.

"Pixie!....Pixie!! Come here!", Yvein hissed out to Pixie while indicating with a finger over his mouth for Pixie to stay quiet. "Lay on the the floor and wail in pain like the spoilt brat you are", Yvein requested. "But I'm NOT..." "Well you don't want to walk all the way to the Glass Palace now do you!?", Yvein cut out Pixie's attempt at retorting before she could even complete it.

Reluctantly and in utter bewilderment, Pixie obliged. She laid on the grass and began wailing in pain as instructed. If you looked closely, you can even spot a tear welling up in cute little Pixie's eyes. That was how good an actress she really is! In an instant, Yvein darted toward the nearest nest and shouted in exasperation, "Help! Help! My friend...she is in pain...Help!".

"Now what is this ruckus bothering me from my snooze time", a loud shriek voice cackled as a Craven popped its head from within the nest. "My..my...look what we have here. Its dear Yvein again. What do you want this time boy?", the Craven asked.
"My friend over there...she's been stung by Acid Bees, if we don't take her to the Glass Palace at once, she'll surely die! Please please I beg of you", Yvein pleaded.

"Well, it really is a nice lazy afternoon. Perfect for a nap. Why should I help you worthless cunning gnomes?", the Craven challenged Yvein. Quick thinking, Yvein took out just one Honey Walnut from his brown sack that glittered in the warm sun. "There are hundreds of these where it came from. It's all yours if you let us sit on your back and fly us to the Glass Palace", Yvein blurted out an offer the Craven can't refuse.

Licking it's hungry lips, the Craven obliged. Yvein ran back to Pixie, cheekily winked at her and helped her up onto the Craven's hairy back, which was quite comfortable in fact, just like a soft velvet couch.

The Craven soared high into the sky and above the clouds as the two gnomes looked down at the forest below and thanked their lucky stars for not having to walk all those million miles. "Faster faster!", Yvein roared in excitement for he enjoyed the wind guzzling against his face. Pixie on the other hand felt rather uncomfortable for she was darn scared of heights, and so she gripped Yvein tightly, which caused him to gasp.

Before long, the Craven began to descend and made ground for the brownish slug of a land just before the Murky Rivers. "Hey this is not the Glass Palace!", Yvein rattled in anger. "I'm sorry my gnome friends. We Cravens must not fly above Murky Waters. There is an old curse that warned us about flying over these evil waters. I'm sorry but this is as far as I can only take you", the Craven apologised with geunine intent. "But once you cross the Murky Waters, the Glass Palace is not far away. Trust me", the Craven tried to comfort the gnomes.

"Well alright Craven. Here you go", Yvein slung forward his brown sack and tied it neatly around the craven's legs. "And thank you for taking us this far. May we meet again kind friend!", Yvein bidded the Craven farewell as it soared high into the skies once again.

The Gnomes looked toward Murky Waters and wondered how are they ever going to cross these dangerous swamp. Just then, a huge Crocodile waddled toward the near bank and smiled sheepishly at the gnomes. "What are you two gnomes doing far away from your villages", the crocodile asked cunningly while he thought about having them for supper.

Knowing fully well that Crocodiles eats anything that moves, the gnomes took a step back, while orchestrating a solution. "You know what?", Pixie voiced out. "We are indeed on our way to the Glass Palace to collect our just rewards from the Fairy Princess. We helped her carry out a couple of errands last week and she promised us two huge brown cows. You can have them both if you let us ride your back to the other side of Murky Waters", for once Pixie displayed her hidden genius ability.

Crocodiles, who only possess brains the size of a ground nut, didn't have to do much thinking before agreeing on the offer. The crocodile just imagined about the fine meal he was about to have once the gnomes returned with the cows. Almost immediately, he agreed to let the gnomes ride on his leathery back.

Hand in hand, the gnomes put one foot on the crocodile's back, then the other as they balanced atop his lean muscular back. All this while, wary of the cunning but dumb crocodile. They reached the far bank safely and both gnomes ran to a safe distance before shouting, "Don't worry Mr Crocodile, we'll be back soon with the cows. Wait for us!".

The gnomes ran as fast as their little legs could take them and before long, they arrived at the Glass Palace, just as the Craven had promised. The Glass Palace was indeed a sight to behold. Standing like a jewel from the farthest lands, the gnomes gasped at its tremendous beauty. There were golden carriages on the lawn and the pillars of the palace was coated in the most exotic materials they had ever laid eyes upon.

There were Fairy Princess' roaming everywhere from the gardens to the big rooms which they could see from where they were standing from. Each Fairy Princess looked ravishing and captivating in their raw beauty. Each of them emitted a radiant light, an aura of sheer magic about them.

The gnomes stood by the main palace doors and and before they could even knock, the doors flew wide open and they were greeted by one of the Fairy Princess'. "Why what do we have here? Two little gnome friends. How can I help you beautiful little creatures?", the Fairy Princess asked. "Erm..Erm...We are here to see the Golden Princess", Pixie struggled to find her words.

"And why may I ask do you seek the Golden Princess?", the Fairy Princess queried. The gnomes related their story about Plexine, Alfen and the Crystal Blue Waters and begged the Fairy to show them the way.

"Well if it's true what you say, then I shall show you the way to the Golden Princess. But you have to earn it my gnome friends. Golden Princess's tears are precious...Good luck getting it out from her diamond eyes", the Fairy continued with a smile.

The Fairy brought them to The Golden Princess's room high up in the Palace and closed the doors behind them. "I have visitors", the Golden Princess spoke. "It's been a long time since I had visitors. I don't receive much visitors these days for they never got what they came for. It is my tears I believe that you are looking for yes?", the Golden Princess said almost nonchalantly. "Well good luck my friends", she said, putting the gnomes in a spot.

"Well, we don't care about your tears oh Golden Princess. My friend Pixie here does not believe you exist. So I brought he here to show her", Yvein said confidently. "And now that she has seen you, we should be on our way home", Yvein continued.

"Wait wait little gnomes", the Golden Princess suddenly felt bad. "Since you have come a long way, why not sit with me for a cup of Caramel. It soothes the soul you know", the Golden Princess offered.

The two gnomes didn't need a second offering and joined the Golden Princess at her table. As soon as they sat, Yvein started to tell the Golden Princess the whole story of Plexine and how they killed her under the Crystal Blue Waters using the hand mirror.

At once, the Golden Princess laughed and she laughed and she laughed for whoever thought that the evil Plexine could be killed by two cute little gnomes! She laughed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheek and without wasting much time, Yvein grabbed his glass vial from his pocket, uncorked the opening and caught the tear just before it hit the ground. More tears streamed down her cheeks and Yvein caught all of them till the vial was almost half filled!

Satisfied, Yvein corked it shut tightly and smiled impressed with himself. "My my, such clever gnomes you two are, tricking me like that! I've never laughed like I just did in years! I like you gnomes. I'm going to grant you one wish! Now what is it that you wish for my dear little gnomes?", the Golden Princess asked.

"Please Oh beautiful Golden Princess. Give us wings and the ability to fly!", Yvein requested without much hesitation. "If it is wings that you seek, it is wings that you get!", the Golden Princess blew magic star dust on the two and a pair of wings, translucent but in a golden shade grew from Yvein's and Pixie's back!

Happy, the two gnomes bade farewell and promised the Golden Princess that they will come visit her again soon. As soon as they were out, they tested their wings and they took to flying like fish to water! They flew east and north and up and down and enjoyed every minute of their new found ability.

They flew toward Murky Waters and over and saw Mr Crocodile still waiting. "Hey you two! What are you doing up there?" the crocodile asked in amazement. "Where are my cows you promised?", he asked. "You are not getting any cows you evil crocodile! You have been so bad eating up all the fishes and deers that drinks from the river so you are not getting anything from us! We just needed a ride from you, that's all. We planned this all along!", Pixie sniggered at the crocodile as the two gnomes flew toward Plexine's castle.

At the castle, Pixie called out to her dear friend Alfen. Alfen flew to Pixie, along with another enchanted butterfly that was cursed by Plexine. Yvein took out the glass vial from his pocket and carefully dropped a drop of Golden Princess's tear onto them and watched in amazement.

Slowly, the butterflies transformed into their original selves and they hugged each other in utter happiness. They danced and jigged and was soon out of the castle and back into Forest Greenwood where a whole new set of adventure awaits them!

Pixie the Gnome & The Crystal Blue Water

Pixie the Gnome, like all good-natured creatures her age from the small town of Einhoven was always looking for new adventures beyond the outskirts of their cheerful little village. More than often, they will huddle together during the monthly bonfire and listen attentively to the adult gnomes who tells stories of the land beyond Forest Greenwood to the North of Einhoven.

Few have ventured further than they actually should during the wildberry picking season...but none returned. As the adult gnomes put it, naughty gnomes, who disobey their warnings, will fall into the evil and dark magical clutches of Plexine the Wicked Witch!

"Just another tall tale to deny us invigorating adventures!", Pixie thought to herself as she brushed away the idea of herself falling prey to Plexine. Pixie recalled during the last Autumn season how she and her brothers collected wildberries...of all shapes and sizes at the fringe of Forest Greenwood. The deeper they ventured, the bigger and juicier the berries got..some as big as fists, others as small as a silver sixpence.

As Pixie looked far beyond the rising smoke of the bonfire and across the village rooftops, she gazed upon the deep dark shadows of Forest Greenwood and vowed to venture further than she should into the never realms the very next day, without uttering a whisper of her intentions to her gnome friends and brothers. "What an adventure!", Pixie exclaimed to herself, with her bright eyes sparkling like faraway jewels.

Pixie woke up with an extra spring in her little legs the next morning. She barely slept the night before as she anticipated the fun and laughter she was about to have. "Goodbye Mum", Pixie waved to her mother as she skipped down the pebbled path. "Be careful dear Pixie. Do not go anywhere you shouldn't. You know how often you get yourself in trouble don't you. Come back before dark!", her Mother's voice trailed into the misty morning air.

As Pixie trampled on deeper into Forest Greenwood, Pixie marveled at sights she never saw before. The sunflowers, yellow as the very rays that cast its glow upon the land were humming the sweetest tunes. Flowers with colours beyond her wildest imagination had eyes and ears and a mouth just like gnomes had and they all said 'Hello Pixie!', as she breezed past them. "How did they know my name?" Pixie wondered. "My my...this really is an Enchanted Forest!", Pixie thought to herself.

The wood squirrels and playful monkeys were scurrying about from tree to tree as they played hide n seek with Pixie. Pixie was having so much fun that she grew totally oblivious to the time. Before long, all the forest animals and flowers bade farewell to Pixie. "Goodbye dear Pixie. It was fun playing with you. You should make haste now new friend. It's getting dark, and you wouldn't want to get caught by Plexine....she loves wondering naughty gnomes!", they warned her.

In an instant, Forest Greenwood stood silent like a haunted castle. The echoes grew louder as the winds grew stronger and seeped through the thick forest leaves. The setting sun cast long monstrous shadows across the forest floor and Pixie grew mightily scared! As she looked around, it looked the same everywhere...Pixie was tremendously lost!

Pixie wandered on till she came by a huge Oak tree, whose hollow opening was big enough for her to climb and nestle herself from the cold night wind. Pixie trembled at the slightest sound and closed her eyes in fear and regret. Just then, she saw the brightest blue light illuminating in the distance. "A fairy princess!", Pixie comforted herself. "I'll beg her to send me home", Pixie told herself. "I'm sure the fairy princess is kind enough to not leave a little cute Pixie like me alone in this enchanted forest in the night", Pixie exclaimed with a hint of eagerness in her voice.

As the blue light sparkled closer, Pixie jumped out from the Oak tree and waved frantically, beckoning for the Fairy Princess's attention. As it got closer, Pixie's jaw dropped at the beauty of the Fairy Princess. Never before had she seen a wonderful sight. It was just as how the adult gnomes described during the bonfires! And before Pixie could utter a word, the Fairy Princess waved her magic wand and in an instant, Pixie found herself bounded and gagged with silver chains as thick as the rusty metal ones wrapping her wooden gates.

"Pixie the Gnome...", an evil bewitching voice breathed from within the Fairy Princess. "I've been waiting for you!", it continued as it transformed into its true self. It really was Plexine! As hideous and haunting as those stories Pixie heard! "I love naughty pixies!", it cackled in the night. "It's been too long since I had one for dinner. My my you'll make a scrumptious meal for me", Plexine notioned as she scrutinized little Pixie from head to toe. "Perhaps I'll wait for you to grow a little bit more", Plexine muttered to herself as she licked her lips to whet her appetite at the thought of having a nice juicy gnome for a fine meal!

"Into the carriage you go", Plexine barked as she kicked Pixie into her carriage which was driven by huge black dogs with 3 heads growing from a single body and knives for teeth! Pixie shuddered each time Plexine roared with laughter and hoped this was really only a horrid nightmare.

After what seemed like hours, finally the carriage came to a halt and Pixie was dragged by a clench of hair by the top of her little head into Plexine's castle. Pixie's heels were scarred by the rough wooden flooring as Plexine dragged her to the dungeon which was unusually situated on the highest floor.

As soon as the heavy doors closed and the chains and bolts were fastened, Pixie's hands were magically unbound. Pixie took a few seconds to get accustomed to her dimmed surroundings. Pixie looked around petrified by the ghastly cobwebs plastered against the walls and ants the size of matchboxes crawling all over the floor. A small opening on one side of the wall let in a soft glow courtesy of the forgiving moon. Alas, the window was grilled and Pixie sat in the corner sobbing.

"Don't cry dear Pixie", mellowed a friendly voice from somewhere near Pixie's badly bruised feet. "Who said that?", Pixie beckoned in the darkness. "It's me Alfen", said a golden butterfly. "Alfen!?", Pixie exclaimed. "What happened to you my long lost friend? We all thought you were lost last autumn when you went to pick wildberries", Pixie continued.

"Yes it's me. I was captured by the evil Plexine, just like you. My brothers are gone...but I guess I was lucky to be turned into a butterfly. I'm made to run errands for the evil Plexine", Alfen lamented. "But what could a butterfly really do for a witch?", Pixie asked. "Well...Plexine needs the saliva of the forest silkworms for her magic. And only a butterfly is small enough to fly into silkworms' nest", Alfen explained. Pixie heaved in misery as she thought about the fate that awaits her.

The next day Pixie awoke by the singing sparrows sitting by her window. Her dungeoun was pretty bare, less for some old medieval furniture and a curious hand mirror sitting atop a table.

Vain like most girl gnomes, Pixie grabbed it and got a shock as she gazed upon her sorry reflection. Never has she looked this bad she thought to herself. Of all things to think about when her life was at the mercy of a wicked witch. Pixie got bored and stood by the window looking out, using the mirror to reflect the sun's rays into the forest beyond.

Elsewhere, but closeby in Forest Greenwood, a little gnome called Yvein from another village was busy. Like all boy gnomes, Yvein was mischievous. In fact, he was so mischievous that he never escaped a day without being apprehended by the elder gnomes. But Yvein was bright as he was witty and smart.

Yvein crept up the huge oak tree as he rummaged the forest squirrels nest for nuts that they have painfully scoured and stored for the coming winter. Never one to spare a thought for the poor squirrels, Yvein only had one thing in mind and that was to fill his brown sack to the brim with nuts.

As young Yvein was trying hard to balance atop the oak branch, a curious glow of blinding light caught his eye and he dropped to the ground below with a loud thud! "What in the world was that?", Yvein thought to himself as he adjusted his cap. He crept closer toward the direction of the light and finally came across Plexine's castle.

Now Yvein was smart and knew the danger he was in. But he also knew how lazy Plexine was for she only wakes up in the late afternoon, when all other creatures were preparing to make way for home. Plexine was fat and lazy as she was evil and that made Yvein a little more brave.

Yvein looked curiously at the strange reflections from the top window but could not make out what it actually was. He reached for his pocket and took out his pet blue sparrow. "Riez my friend. Can you fly up there and tell me what you see?", he asked his friend. Riez the sparrow flew without hesitation from the Yvein's palm and sat on the window sill.

Riez came back in a few minutes and related Pixie's story to Yvein. "We must help her!", Yvein exclaimed. "Tell me...what else do you see my friend", Yvein demanded of Riez. "Well the room is pretty bare except for some old furniture and cobwebs and a strange looking hand mirror that was causing all that blinding light. It looked like the ones the fairy princesses carry", Riez informed his master.

A bright spark suddenly glittered in Yvein's head as he whispered some instructions for Riez to convey to Pixie. Riez flew back up to the window and instructed Pixie in soft hushed whispers. Pixie's eyes glowed as she listened attentively.

That afternoon, as soon as Plexine awoke, she went straight for the dungeon. "I'm hungry!", she moaned. "Be you skinny or be you fat, I'll have you for tea you little brat!", Plexine exclaimed. "Now how shall I kill you?", Plexine asked Pixie rhetorically.

"Shall I boil you in frog's blood...or shall I bake you into Pixie pie?", Plexine continued. "You can boil me or bake me so long as you don't drown me in that crystal blue waters surrounding your castle!", Pixie rebutted.

"Shall I burn you on a skewer...or shall i just let my lovely dog with three heads just savour your pixie meat?" went Plexine. "You can skewer me or feed me to your dogs with knives for teeth so long as you don't drown me in that crystal blue waters surrounding your castle!", Pixie rebutted.

"Well you seem pretty afraid of drowning don't you. Maybe I shall just do that to spike you!", Plexine laughed and dragged Pixie out of the dungeon. She draggeed Pixie out into the garden and toward the crystal blue waters. Like the night before, Plexine gave Pixie a hard kick into the water and Pixie sank and sank and sank deep into the river as Plexine chuckled to herself.

Now Plexine was not very smart for Pixie, like all gnomes were indeed brilliant swimmers! In an instant, Pixie swam like a dolphin toward the other side. Furious beyond imagination at the thought of being tricked by a little gnome, Plexine transformed into a hungry shark with razors for teeth and swam after Pixie!

SNAP! SNAP! when her razor teeth as she bit of the fur off Pixie's cute buttom. Pixie swam harder as she was nearly there. She saw Yvein waiting for her on the far bank and sprang out and tossed the hand mirror in the air.

In one swift motion, Yvein pulled Pixie out and grabbed the mirror with his other hand and mumbled some magic before tossing the mirror hard into the crystal blue waters! Just as Yvein thought, it was indeed a Fairy Princess's mirror! And Fairy Princesses mirror had good magic in it.

The mirror caused the crystal blue waters to solidify into real hard crystals, trapping the shark, which was really Plexine in disguise beneath it. Plexine remained motionless as she froze under the crystals.

Pixie breathed a huge sigh of relief before hugging Yvein tightly. "You look strange for a gnome", exclaimed Pixie. "Who are you and where are you from?", she asked. "Thank you!", she exclaimed almost forgetting to thank her saviour as she pecked Yvein on his rosy cheek. Yvein blushed and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand as his face grimaced in embarrassment.

"I'm Yvein from a nearby village. Do you know your way home?", Yvein asked. "Not really. Im really lost", Pixie replied. "Well let me take you home then. But first, we need to break the spell that Plexine has casted on all those enchanted animals in her castle", exclaimed Yvein as he trotted forward.

"But I'm tired!",Pixie heaved to herself as she trailed not far behind and a whole new adventure awaits them...only they do not know it yet!