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!

Sugar Coated Detention Blues

Roy was home unusually early that night. Barging straight into his room, his mother thought that perhaps Roy was finally getting his priorities right and get down to his studies. Boy was she wrong.

Roy flung his school bag into the dark, dusty corner for him to pick up the following morning. He placed his favourite CD of the moment into the music deck and thumped the very foundations that held his house firm to the ground. And in an instant, his room once again transformed into a human pigsty as he rummaged his wardrobe for his football jersey.

It was the Inter-School football semi-finals after school the next day. And remembering his coach's last words to him that day, Roy was determined to get sufficient rest. Scoring four goals in the last 5 matches for the school, it wasn't easy for Roy not to feature in the semi-finals. He is red hot in form, working his magic down the left wing, mesmerizing the defenders like a professional gymnast.

Roy was up early the next day, his heart pounding and fluttering. Negative thoughts eroded his mind as he thought about the what ifs. The bell that signalled for assembly startled Roy from his thoughts as his classmates ceased their chattering and formed into their neat rows. As the National Anthem was sung, Roy overheard Sally and Zul discussing about a Math problem. "Shucks!", he thought. In his excitement, Roy had totally forgotten about the Maths worksheet that was due that day.

Frantically, Roy slithered his way up to Sally as the class was walking toward the science laboratory. Roy still had 2 hours before math class, and yet again, he found himself copying homework. Sick and tired of his lazy ways, Sally, being the sweet and demure girl of the class, once again allowed Roy to copy her hard work wholesale. Or so we all thought.

It was about time, Sally thought that Roy started concentrating on the academic side of school. And so, during recess that day, she marched confidently toward the teacher's lounge, with a hideous motive.

Sally emptied endless tales on Roy's bad habits to the form teacher, who was seated right beside the discipline master and school principal. She felt accomplished and tried hard to subdue the grin on her face as she left the lounge. Just before the school bell rang to mark the end of recess, a familiar voice boomed through the speakers.

"Can Roy from 4B please report to the principal's office immediately?", it echoed through the school walls. "Fuck!", Roy thought. "What now?", he quizzed himself, as he hurried toward the office with half the school fixated on him.

In a few minutes, Roy emerged from the room, his heart overflowing with sadness. His eyes drooped heavy with vengeance as he thought hard about whoever that could have snitched on him. Roy couldn't think of anyone at all. "You are out of the football team Roy. Until you prove to me you are worthy to get back into the team", the principal barked. "But it's the semi-f...".."No buts!", the principal interrupted Roy. "The ban comes into effect immediately! You will report for detention everyday. Let me brush up your lazy bones. Now go back to class!", the principal seemed firm with his stand.


Roy cursed himself silly as he dragged himself into the class. Everyone fell silent as Roy made his way to the back of the class with a glint of tears in his eyes. Within a few minutes, through stolen whispers, the entire class was now aware of Roy's predicament and how he's going to miss that all important semi-final football match that same afternoon. And silently, Sally felt the gloss taken out of her actions. Guilty as a murderer, she somehow knew that her actions had shattered that boy's dreams. And Sally felt sorry. Really sorry.

As soon as the bell rang to signal the end of school, noise filled the air as the students congregated amongst their cliques and plan their activities ahead. Roy took his time to keep his books, his face still painting a picture of a sullen mess. He looked out toward the canteen where the football boys usually sat. They were all getting ready for the big match. Roy shouted out to them, still affording a smile as he wished them luck. Feeling like a pricked pin, Sally hurried past Roy, deep with regret.

Roy entered the detention room with his mind elsewhere. How ironic it was that the room was facing the football pitch. The players looked like small matchstick men as they lined up for the kick off. Roy leaned against the corner pillar as he concentrated eminently on the match. It was obvious where his heart was at that moment.

Sally cleared her throat as she stood at the entrance of the detention class. Startled, Roy asked, "Sally...What are U doing here?". "Ermmm...I don't know how to put this in words but...actually...I was the one that told on you. I'm sorry", Sally blurted out, not daring to look Roy in the eye.

Roy looked at Sally full of shock and awe. Too devastated to even feel any hate toward Sally, Roy turned his gaze back onto the football game. Only this time, his mind was elsewhere. Never had he felt so betrayed. To think that he secretly had a crush on Sally!

Sally, stood rooted, waiting for Roy to mutter something. But Roy remained numb. Sensing her presence wasn't welcome, sadly, Sally turned and walked slowly out of the room, stealing a glance back at Roy, hoping he'd at least say something or perhaps...look back. Just as she exited, she placed a bar of chocolate on Roy's bag, remembering how much he loves chocolates judging from all those empty wrappers he stashed under his desk in the class room.

The school football team lost that afternoon by a single goal in stoppage time. The team missed Roy, and Sally hoped she didn't have to suffer the same fate too.

Where Did You Sleep Last Night?

The ghastly silence of the morning was rattled by the chirping of sparrows, filling the fresh misty atmosphere of the neighbourhood. The sun, still eager to reveal its radiant face, peeped bit by bit over the horizon. A huge Angsana tree, old and sturdy as time itself provided a night like shadow across Haley's room. Before long, the ringing alarm clock signaled the time for Haley to awake from her deep sleep.

She stretched herself like a lazy cat and muted the clock on her bedside table. Still very much in a daze, she stood up with eyes closed and walked toward the window to draw her curtains and breathe in the fresh new morning.

Haley stood rooted by the window on the second floor almost like a ritual, as she watched the cars zoom by the little street and the morning sparrows flying out of their little homes.

If you were as observant as she was, you could just make out those dark brown nests, looking like flower pots perched on the sturdy branches of the Angsana. Moving your gaze a little, it wasn't too difficult to spot another, and yet another nest. What cosy little homes Haley thought as she longed to be a bird perhaps, flying free and fast in her next life.

As the day wore on and Haley was busy at school, her mother was stopped in her tracks as she was performing her household chores. The monstrous heavy ramblings of powerful machinery filled the air. They sounded like chainsaws. "Finally, they've come to prune the trees", she thought.

The foreign workers laboured on those thick branches like a barber would a disheveled caveman. And soon after, the huge Angsana looked almost stripped and bare, less for a couple of smaller branches, which breathed the only form of life left in that listless tree.

That evening, as Haley was about to close her windows, she noticed something rather peculiar. She could somehow look straight through into her opposite neighbours' home. "Ah, they have trimmed the trees", she mumbled to herself.

Sadly, never did anyone spare a thought for those sparrows who once homed on that huge old tree, sheltering them from the night monsoon, and cold howling winds. Surely, the sparrows could not have constructed another nest to sleep in, within that measly few hours.

I wonder what would it have felt like, when they came home that evening to see their homes destroyed and lost? Where could these innocent sparrows sleep that night? Somewhere out there, those poor little souls are now wondering...aimless...and homeless.

Just Two Minutes

Do you remember your first date with that important someone? That nerve wrecking feeling where you fret silly on selecting that perfect outfit? Spending hours confronting your open wardrobe, pondering on your apparently vast, but seemingly limited choice of fine threads? I remembered vividly my first date in recent years not too long ago, albeit its queer circumstances that led to that date. But secretly, I coveted our second date more than any other. To me, that was the real proper first date between Yvonne and me.

Always a cool customer, my heart was only sent pounding, like African drums that brief few moments before she arrived. It wasn't as if I was meeting her for the first time, but somehow, a whole part of me just wanted to make everything right for myself. At least I felt I deserve a shoulder to lie my heavy head on, and break the chains that once held me down for so long.

Being out of the game for so long didn't help at all, but I thank god for my ability to converse and rattle on small talk, and her ability to reciprocate in similar fashion. Yvonne looked stunning from the distance. She had on a simple black dress, with a black shawl slung around her shoulders like an exotic snake. Not one to accesorise herself with jewelry, she did however had on a gladiator like bracelet to complete her look. She walked toward me wearing the most unforgettable smile, like the cherry toppings on a chocolate sundae. My heart was racing once again.

The first few minutes was rather queer but it ironed out fine. It was easy to slip into a comfortable mood with her warm and cheery disposition. I sensed many roving eyes penetrating on her and back at me. They must be wondering how lucky this plain looking chap is to be with such an adorable little pixie. It felt liberating one way or another.

I was never one to conform to social norms by restricting my dates to a dinner or a movie. I prefer conversing and getting to know the individual. Grasping bits and pieces of her personality via the way she speaks, laughs, and body language. I find it thoroughly sexy when the opposite sex questions my thoughts and challenges my opinions. I enjoy uncovering that little few similarities and differences, even though we come from diffrent backgrounds. Yvonne exceeded my expectations on that front, and a whole lot more.

We ordered desserts by a cafe by the busy sidewalk, with throngs of people, old and young, zooming past us. There were groups of friends, perhaps about to catch a movie...there were some scrambling their way home after a hard day's work. I would also imagine that some were eager to meet their loved ones, or maybe their date...just like I was.

The chattering of the evening birds returning to their homes were like music to the world, as the sun began to set, returning the elegant moon her shine once more. The lights that lined up the bust city streets illuminated and cast strange shadows on the walkways, and then, our desserts arrived, interrupting our conversation.

By and large, every minute spent on that date with her seemed like mere seconds. I choose to believe that we talked about anything and everything under the sun...so much so that I couldn't even remember what was being said. I did remember two things significantly though.

First was that I wasn't sure if she'd enjoy that secret little place I wanted to take her after our dessert. For the fact that she wasn't entirely properly attired for a long walk, just to chill at a unconventional location. Deep down however, I was adamant that she would appreciate that little sanctuary of mine. The parapet they call it, was definitely love at first sight.

And the other thing that I choose to remember from that day was how captivated I was by her smile, the twinkle in her eyes, and the charming effect it had on me.

Yvonne didn't complain about the arduous walk to the parapet. Rather short she said. Perhaps, our conversations, and the cosy little shophouses that line the roads kind of took that thought away. Though reluctant initially for the fear of heights, I felt she trusted me enough as I took her soft porcelain hands for the very first time and climbed the concrete ledge, overlooking the cars whiskering below us into the tunnel. The air was warm and the subtle winds comforting.

We sat there for hours, bickering, laughing, and sharing thoughts and the sort. Subconsciously, I found myself stealing glances at her, whenever she isn't looking. I loved the way she smelt, the way she snuggled up to me, and the fact that how a simple date can turn to be even more splendid, than any other I've been on.

My little fairytale ended as the night grew late, signaling the time for us to head back home. Though we live at the opposite ends of the island, I didn't blame her for thinking how I shouldn't have seen her home. She was just being thoughtful.

But to me, I felt that was the least I could do, to thank her for a wonderful time, and for the respect that I had for her. It was about time, I started to be a real gentleman. I didn't want to admit this initially, but part of me was reluctant to start missing her company prematurely.

We met again after that night, most of which were spent in similar fashion. Up till this moment, I've yet to recall any dull moment whatsoever spent together with Yvonne. Things just kept getting better and better. If this really is a dream, I'd opt to sleep forever.

On one of those dates yet again she told me how I needn't see her home. Though she meant well, I still felt compelled to spend that last priceless moments with her in the taxi cab. Though silent, these were always the best moments.

Reality hits you right in the face as the lift door closes. The first two minutes after seeing someone you like leave, is when you miss them the most. And the long journey home after that, usually the loneliest.

A Memory Lost

Like many people around us, especially in an Asian context, a grandmother is usually the most notably respected figure within our family circle. Like mine, they were always there to shelter us from storm, and the buffer when our angst parents wants to reprimand us. They were always be there, forever armed with age old wits and everlasting grace.

Though flaunting all those traits that I've mentioned, my grandmother seemed a little more beaming with strength and grit. Having lived through a war, burying 3 of her own children, catastrophic racial riots, and raising her remaining children through the drug filled 60s, she somehow managed to see through the tough road at hand, painting her life picture, dotted with bliss and sorrow.

Growing up in the same house, I noticed many people remembering her in their own unique ways. Be it her demanding discipline for upholding strong family values, patience, undying love and compassion or even her accommodating nature amongst many countless positive traits, I choose to remember her in another light.

As a very young boy, full of questions and constantly observant, I've always pondered what hardship or immense worry could have casted those dark wrinkles on her angelic face, like shadows, being casted upon deep dark valleys. Never one to talk about her sorrows, "What do they know?", she'd mutter, starring at my late grandfather's portrait, as if whispering to him. She found a way though, to kerb her pain. Cigarettes.

I could still picture her sitting on her favourite dark blue velvet couch, cigarette wedged loosely, as if hanging from dear life between her lips. She took deep breaths as she inhaled the smoke, rarely battling even an eyelid during those brief moments that she coveted. Perplexed with the cacophony of thoughts straying inside her, she seldom flicked the ashes too. She would allow it to accumulate like solidified dust, only for its own weight to eventually scatter it down on the floor. It must be devastating, my young mind questioned, the thoughts churning through her mind.

"Come here", she'd beckon out to me, interrupting me from my playtime. "Take this $10 and get me a pack of Kent lights, a loaf of bread, and please buy yourself something too", she would say, as she placed the note firmly unto my little palms.

I relish days like these for I enjoyed being out of the house for that brief few moments. I'd run down that sorry excuse for a hill, with the wind gushing in my face, refusing to slow down my pace until I reached that humble store at the end of the road. Torn and battered from the outside, the store stood sturdy over the years. it had pebbled stones for a floor, and the cash register was nothing but an old rusty Milo tin, fastened to an elastic spring that was riveted to one of those heavy wooden beams.

The store Uncle, a man in the twilight of his years, seemed energetic for his age. The wrinkles and scars that decorated his body seemed like an epic tale, begging to be told. He placed a pack of Kent Lights onto the wooden counter, almost reading my mind. I grabbed the load of bread closest to me, and hurried quickly to the rows of candy, picking my favourite one out.

My grandmother would usually reward me a dollar to run her errands. Initially, I'd spent the money the very next day at school. Usually on unimportant stationery, or snacks. But as I grew older, and the $1 note ceased in production, I began to cultivate the habit of saving. not for a rainy day, but rather a hope, that these little notes, that I wish to keep forever, shall remind me of her. It comforts me to know, that when my grandmother is long gone, I still have something, which her bare hands touched before.

Many moons later, as I had a family of my own, I was appalled at the reluctance of my children refusing to run me those simple errands, on this particular day. Glued to their video games, even the convenience store two floors below the apartment, seemed worlds away. Useless twits I'd tell myself as I ran the errands myself.

I climbed the stairs, with my purchase wrapped in a plastic bag, and recalled my youth as a boy running up and down that hill and decided to rummage my cupboard for that old brass tin, where I kept all of the money my grandmother gave me a long time ago. Though dusty and rusted, it still looked majestic to me. Never in my life had I taken the time to count all that money, and in an instant, I became that eager little boy I once was. I closed my room door shut, and emptied the contents unto the floor.

The smell of old money seeped through the air as it brought back all those memories as I counted them one by one. Then there was this particular note half blotched red with blood. I remembered that day particularly well, for I tripped and fell on my way back from the shop. Fearing a beating for staining my clothes, I used the note like a tissue, dabbing my slightly bleeding elbows. How time flew I thought. Twenty odd years worth of errands, and $1016 richer, I gasped in utter bewilderment!

I squeezed back all those money into the tin and placed it near the wall of family portraits, right under that of my grandmother's, and silently prayed for her, closing my eyes and imagining her shining a toothless smile back on me.

That very night, as tragic as it may sound, my apartment got burgled, though no one was harmed or awake when the crime took place. There wasn't much that the thieves made with less for a couple of mobile phones, a laptop, and a few cheap fakes for paintings. But they did got away with that brass tin, nestled by the portrait on the wall.

That morning, as I sat at my favourite dark blue velvet couch, smoking a cigarette, I questioned the irony of it all. To have such a saddened end to a legacy of memories between grandmother and grandson, robbed from my grasp was not easy to fathom. My wife didn't tell me how devastatingly beaten I looked that morning until a few days later. She didn't have to. From that moment, I knew what it felt to have been stripped bare...and let go of something one loves so dearly.

(FYI: This is not a true story. My grandmother is still alive and kicking. I pray for her long life. This is just my way, of saying how much I appreciate the little things that she does for me.)

Not Any Colour But Black

Their meeting was chanced, just like a shooting star fleeting across the vastness of the night sky. A solitary blink, and you'd lose it forever, anxiously waiting for the next one. It could be just a minute away, but people are known to have waited for eternity, and only see it in their distant of dreams.

"Are you hurt Miss?", Jonny asked as he left his scooter lying by the kerb and rushed toward the lady examining her bleeding knees. In his haste, Jonny only just braked in time to avoid colliding head on with Sasha, who was waiting by the side of the badly lit street. Her raven black hair, covered most of her face as she stooped down to wipe away the dotted traces of blood which marked her lightly grazed knees.

"Didn't you see me?", she muttered under her angry voice, which was assertive, yet soft enough like the graceful notes played on an old piano. "Well, it's really dark, and you're wearing black. I just saw you at the last moment. I'm really sorry",Jonny apologised sincerely. "Maybe we should go to the clinic," Jonny offered.

"Nahh. I'm fine really. Just a scratch. Just a scratch", Sasha said as she looked up to face a very concerned Jonny. Both looked at each other, for a moment forgetting why they were facing each other in the very first place. His looks, an uncanny resemblance to the Korean actor, whose posters littered majestically across the four walls of her teenage bedroom.

Sasha's almond eyes, with a hint of dew dropped wetness for tears sent Jonny's heart racing a few beats too fast. Her wry smile faded away, like the pain that once engulfed her trembling left knee. Coyly, she looked away, smiling broadly toward the dark empty road in the background.

Clueless, Jonny stammered his way into asking Sasha her intentions for waiting by the side of this lonely road so late at night. "I'm waiting for a cab", she answered softly. "Well, at least let me gift you a lift home. It's the least I could do", Jonny persisted.

With a hint of reluctance for the fact that she was probably never going to get a cab there, she agreed. It was really the first time Sasha rode on a scooter, and she gripped Jonny's waist tightly, enjoying the cool night breeze blowing unto her flawless cheeks, and causing her hair to dance in all directions.

"Can I see you again?", Jonny found the courage to ask Sasha as she was unfastening the helmet strap. "Only if you ride a little more slowly the next time!", Sasha wittily replied as she handed Jonny her name card. Jonny beamed like a 10 year old and felt that heavy guilt lifted off from his chest. "The name is Jonny!", he exclaimed after Sasha walked a couple of steps toward her block. "I know! It's written on the back of your helmet, silly!", Sasha shot back, full of smiles.

They met almost whenever they could after that for they enjoyed each others' company. Day by day, as they learnt more about one another, there was just no separating them as their feelings etched closer and closer as one.

Jonny, who was still nursing the wounds inflicted from his past relationship, though wanting, somehow distant himself in confusion from confessing his true feelings toward Sasha. Scared and daring not to venture into another relationship, Jonny remained lull, leaving Sasha lost and wandering in her own sphere.

Then on one windless night, as two hopeful souls confided in each other under the glittering spread of stars, that were given new life from the motherly full moon, Sasha slipped a perfumed coated letter into Jonny's shirt pocket. "Read it once you're home", she requested. The scantily lit night sky gazed gracefully at the two, who were sprawled across the pale white sand on a lonely beach, muttering a prayer of its own, a wishing star shot across the sky, only just catching the watch of Sasha's smiling eyes.

In Sasha's letter, it read:

'Dear Jonny, in this short time that we have known each other, though it started with a bleeding knee, I long for our relationship to not end abruptly with a bleeding heart. I've always looked forward to our meetings and have not met anyone as charming and beautiful as you, inside and out.

I can't help noticing a sheer reluctance in you. The fact that you seem to want to tell me something, but then holding back your thoughts at the last moment. You may have your reasons, and I shall respect that.

But I can't hold it any longer. It's not my style to fall so hard, and I must confess I really like you and would want for us to make that natural progression in this relationship. If you feel the same way, do not tell me Yes. Just put on the black shirt that I got you for your birthday last week to make me smile. And I'll give my heart to you.'

Jonny read the letter for the hundredth time, breathing in her perfumed scent that came with the letter. Jonny went to bed that night, full of thoughts, before finally closing his tired eyes with Sasha's letter still in the clutch of his left hand.

The next day, Sasha waited patiently for Jonny at the atrium. Her heart pounded whenever a man, clad in a black top emerged from the ascending escalator in the near distant. None of them was Jonny.

Then Sasha recognised that neatly combed hair from afar. As Jonny emerged from the escalator, Sasha's heart dropped a million miles below as Jonny had on a brown jacket. Sasha felt like pouring her eyes out, like the heavy rain that battered the road outside.

Both of them walked silently into the ice cream parlour. Sasha was at the brink of just going home as she unwillingly sat on the velvet cushioned chair in the corner of the store. That was until Jonny took off his jacket. He had on that black shirt that Sahsa bought him. Sasha beamed in utter embarrassment for making herself feel silly, and looking vulnerable to Jonny's roving eyes.

Jonny sat down trying to look into Sasha's eyes. "Is that a black shirt?", Sasha asked. "I dunno. You tell me", Jonny exclaimed as he clenched Sahsa's hands with his.

Of How They Met

He looked a picture of subdued nonchalance as he sat on the steps of the wedding dias. Dressed sharply in a cute little black suit, he had a bright red rose pinned onto his left breast pocket, but the petals were criminally missing from its bud. His hair, fashionably glossed and combed to the side, made him looked like an under aged lady-killer. Admist the riot of people running up and about to prepare for the wedding, there he was, the most dashing looking page boy, on the wedding dias, in utter boredom, plucking the flowers that painted the place a dazzling hue of colours.

She on the other hand, as eloquent and fluid as a Russian ballerina, walked graciously around the wedding reception area, melting the hearts of the adults who were extra early for the occasion. Her baby fats seemed apparent underneath that cherubic smile, with a hint of chocolate stains on the sides of her lips. Her English basket was full to the brim with roses the colour of blood and angels. Clasping the handle tightly under her arms, there she was, the most amiable flower girl, fretting here and about, as she awaited her eldest sister to walk the aisle.

The chattering ceased as the music flowed from the organ. All heads turned to the back as the page boy held his flower girl's hands tightly, like a prince from a well loved fairy tale. As they took as small a step their little legs could muster, they warmed everyone's hearts with an element of innocent childlike charm.

The flower girl, suddenly queasy from the stares and tension, for a moment, allowed her concentration to lapse, tripping on the velvet carpet, face first. The crowd gasp, some in shock, but mostly in a light hearted mannerism. She shot up almost immediately, coming out of her daze. The page boy bent down to rub the rose petals off her knees, and planting a kiss on her cheek, that made the flower girl blush, redder than the flowers in the clasp of her tiny hands.

The wedding went on smoothly, and before long, the place went silent again as throngs of people rushed out to see off the bride and groom into their newlywed car. Page boy and Flower girl stood in the background, obscured to the joys and feverish delight of the adults at present. As the sun began to set, everyone went their separate ways, including the page boy and flower girl, who all this while, never spoke a word to each other.

Seasons came and went. The city landscapes changed ever so often, giving way to the newer taller buildings. Gardens became smaller and roads became wider and and it didn't take long before the old monuments became long forgotten, buried in the shadows of the modern city facade.

For Alice and Akiel, their homecoming to this small island brought back many fond memories. Though they didn't know each other previously, it was the fact that they both came from the same island, that brought their dainty hearts close to each other whilst studying abroad.

And after years of courting and romantic arguments, finally, it was time to tie the knot. Alice, dreaming of this day ever since she was 12, was living it now, only better. Blessed with a good career and a successful partner, Alice's smiled reeked a dollar short of a million.

Like all weddings, smiles and well wishes came from all angles as they drank and sang and participated in friendly bickering, adding to the colourful and joyous atmosphere. Playing onto the large projector on stage, was a short video, which showed many pictures and clips of how Akiel and Alice met while they were students, the dates they had, the places they've been, and the friends that were there to see a love so perfect form from nothingness.

But alas, not many people knew the truth, not even the wedding couple. It wasn't always true, the mesages these pictures and videos try to convey. This wasn't the true story of how Akiel and Alice met.

For a long time ago, when the city was still charming with its old world flavour, in that very same hall, two beautiful souls met for the very first time. One was a dashing page boy, and the other, his beautiful flower girl.

The Perfect Night

"Should I get the one in Red or Black?", Ishah asked me for the umpteenth time we were in the shoe shop. In my mind, I was racing to get out of that shop. It was torturous, to have to accompany her to the shoe shop at least once every fortnightly to temporarily quench her 'beyond control' shoe fetish.

Like a helpless fool, I only knew too well that it would have been fruitless to persuade her to walk out of the shop empty handed. Half-heartedly, I muttered, "Black lah Black lah. It goes well with the new top", I tried to sound helpful, praying that it would hasten the decision making process. "But the red one is nice too!", she exclaimed. Here we go again, as I prepared myself to warm the stool for another half an hour.

"You angry with me ah?", Ishah snuggled up to me as she playfully boxed my chest repeatedly. "Ok lah ok lah, now we can go and look for your shirt k?", she tried to comfort me. I glanced at my watch, cursing under my breath that I'm left with just under 20 minutes before the mall closes and I have yet to get a white shirt for my annual company Dinner & Dance the following day.

My attempts to scour for the perfect white shirt was a total nightmare. I only managed to look through two boutiques before the store assistants began to hint at me that they would have to call it a day soon. Reluctantly, I was plagued with the decision to either purchase a shirt which cutting I did not fancy, or to wear my old shirt. I opted for the latter.

Bursting with anger I quickened my pace as Ishah struggled to keep abreast with me. Her shopping bags were holding her back but she knew me too well to even whisper for assistance. We didn't speak a word on the way home. It wasn't new to us this painted scenario. Somehow or rather, I tend to simmer down after an hour or so. But not today.

As we were walking toward Ishah's house, I broke the most uncomfortable of silence yet in our two year relationship. "You better not wear that new pair of shoes for the dinner tomorrow", I warned her sternly. "But why?", she pleaded in her catlike mews. "Well you know too well how popular you and your blister prone feet are with new pairs of shoes! I got no time to entertain your nonsense tomorrow Ishah". She hung her heavy head low, and we parted ways for the night without the usual peck on the cheek.

Invigorated by a much needed ten hour sleep, the first thing I thought about when I woke up to the morning sun was Ishah. I knew she was going to mesmerize me with her dazzling sequined dress and infectious smile. I smiled to myself, as I pictured entering the ballroom with our hands entwined, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

Ishah didn't dissapoint me that night. The blooming orchids paled and bowed down to her as she stood there glittering in the shadows. She glistened in the dark as the moonlight reflected itself into a million angles off her sequined dress. Her Tiffany necklace accesorised her bare neck. A gift I got her for our first year anniversary. But most heart warming of all was that she wore her hair into a bun knowing that it would give her a huge headache by the end of the night. But Ishah knew that I loved it when she do up her hair that way.

As I got closer, I cant't help noticing the new pair of shoes she had on, but I decided to not utter a word and ruin this perfect evening. I was almost too afraid to even touch her, for fear that her delicate beauty would be brutally tampered with before we even reached the hotel.

I held her hands under the evening sky for a brief few seconds, distracted. I didn't mind just standing there, allowing her to overpower me while time stood still. "Well Shall we go my dear?", she broke the silence and brought me back to my senses. "Can we not go?", I asked cheekily as we walked toward the idling car.

I was blessed that night as Ishah blended well with my colleagues and superiors.They took an instant liking toward her. She knew when to crack a joke and when to say the right words. Her poise and finesse surprised even myself for I never saw this side of her before. For a mildly shy girl, I was taken aback when she readily agreed to take part in the activities lined up for the night.

I noticed Ishah beginning to move rather uneasily as the night wore on. The curse of the new shoes! As I walked with her toward the dance floor, she tried her best not to limp. She caught me gazing at her swollen heel but she didn't mutter a word. Just the sweetest wry smile for a response.

We danced, we talked, we teased and we acted as though we have not seen each other for ages. The silence was comfortable this time round as our bodies sashayed along with the rhythm of the slow number filling the ballroom air, marking the end of a wonderful evening.

As I brought my car up close to the pavement, my heart seemed heavy with lead, as i woke Ishah up from her sleep, knowing that the night was about to end. I could tell that her head was about to burst as she immediately let loose her hair before I could even walk to the other side to open her car door.

Ishah still managed to radiate a warm smile as she held my hands and got out of the car. Her right heel was bleeding by now from the squirm on her face but yet again she put on a brave front and tried to hide it from me.

I lowered myself and motioned for her to wrap her arms around my neck so that I could piggyback her and save her from further torment. She obliged willingly at my sudden display of affection. It isn't me to pamper her this way but somehow, I could not explain my actions that night.

We didn't talk as I struggled along the long pathway. The crickets provided some background orchestra while I felt her heavy breaths upon my neck. From the corner of my eye, I noticed her eyes were closed but she had on the most satisfying of smiles. I huffed and I puffed as I manoevered up the flights of steps till I reached the fourth storey and right up till her doorstep.

"We're home", I said while she gently got off from my aching back. "Thank You", she said with her eyes half closed as she massaged my spine for a brief few seconds. I kissed her on her forehead and wished her good night and disappeared down the flight of steps as soon as the door closed on me.

The events of the night flashed back into my mind as I walked past the exact spot where she stood and waited for me earlier on. It was then that I received a long text message on my mobile. It was from Ishah. It read:

"I had such a good time tonight and I'm sorry that I wore my new pair of shoes. It was just that it looked perfect with my dress. Sorry that you had to carry me back up all the way to the fourth storey k? By the way, that was the best part of the night for me. Love you deep deep! Nite."

My heart felt heavy again but only because it was full of love for Ishah. I didn't tell her this, but that was the best part of the night for me too.

One Key Fits All

This story is inspired by the homecoming of a long lost friend.


In the rush hour of one Grand Central Subway Station in New York City, Valerie swiftly swiveled her head the other direction as the rapturous gust of wind created a riot within her soft brown hair. By and large, as much as she hated that, it never failed to remind her of her growing up days in Singapore. Squeezing her petite body through the tiniest of gaps just before the MRT door beeped and close so that she won't be late for her lectures in the polytechnic.

It had been a good 15 years now since she had not returned to the sunny island. Frequent phone calls home grew few and far between as she refused to swallow her pride and reconcile ties with her parents. She knew that they had a point for refusing their young girl venturing out into the vast corporate world 10000 miles across the planet. With no family, friends, and warm fish porridge to sooth her soul at the end of every hectic New York work day, Valerie finally realised how important a support system a family and home mean.

Her walk up apartment, albeit being smack down in the middle of the big apple, cosy and comfortable in every sense of the word with a Siamese cat for company, somehow lacked the warmth of her HDB flat. Valerie tried hard to brush such thoughts from her mind, but gazing upon the Chinese family sitting opposite her in the Subway train, it somehow made her miss home even more.

Valerie had given this issue much thought and finally, after all these years of sculpting her own success in a foreign land with nothing but grit and strength, she packed her suitcase and purchased a one-way ticket for Singapore.

No one knew of her abrupt decision. Not even her dear sister, who was the only form of contact she has had all these years via the convenience of email and MSN that made her feel ever so close, yet never close to home.

Valerie struggled with her luggage with excitement and fear all rolled into one as she brisked quickly toward the taxi stand. It was quite a feeling to see so many Singlish speaking folks in one place. Barely 5 minutes in Singapore, and the euphoria of the Lahs and Lehs in the background made her smile warmly.

The kind old taxi uncle assisted her with the luggage before asking her in classic Singlish, "Go where?". Valerie smiled before replying, "Uncle, Ang Mo Kio Avenue 10 please! Hurry Up. I'm late!"

Valerie was shocked and impressed by some of the changes she had missed in the course of time she was away. Blocks of flats were now painted an array of vibrant colours. Commercial buildings that used to lack character now breathed a new life of its own. For the first time in her life, Valerie felt what it was like to be alone and foreign in her own country!

As the taxi sped closer and closer to her destination, Valerie felt all warm and fuzzy on the inside, like that on a first date with someone special. She was glad however that there were indeed some things that hasn't changed. She noticed the bamboo poles sticking out like ugly extensions from the kitchen side of the HDB flats. Only this time, they seemed much....homely after all.

Valerie noticed that the Chinese Medicine halls and Mama shops still existed in those void deck retail space. At the end of her block, she noticed that the coffeeshop where as a young girl, she would run her father an errand to buy a pack of cigarettes still stood majestically in its old glory with bright orange letterings that read 'Ah June Coffee Shop'.

Valerie hurried toward one of those Mama shops like an eager child with her luggage dragging behind her. "Uncle, can I have one Grape Yakult please?", Valerie requested in her 'Ang Moh' accent. "This one 80 cents", the fifty something year old Indian man replied, rather flustered with the fact that this lady had disrupted him reading his newspaper. "What!? 80 cents!? It used to cost only 50 cents back then", Vivien retorted.

The Indian uncle looked bewildered and scratched his head. "Erm, where you from girl?", he asked. "I'm from Ang Mo Kio!", Valerie replied in an excited tone. "Thank You uncle! See you again!", Valerie bid her farewell and left before the Indian shopkeeper could fathom what had happened within the last 2 minutes.

Thank god for the HDB upgrades, they now had lifts servicing every floor which saved Valerie the struggle of lugging her bags up a couple flights of steps to the 12th floor. Valerie seemed confused at first for she remembered she had to get off at the 10th floor before running up the flight of steps to her house but she suddenly remembered her sister mentioning about the upgrades in the neighbourhood.

As she walked closer to her flat, all the sweet memories of home rushed into her head. She remembered playing hopscotch and catching with her neighbours along the corridors, as well throwing her sweet wrappers off the 12th storey ledge just to see it dancing in the wind before hitting the ground. Such fond sweet memories Valerie thought.

Her heart beat faster and stronger as she stood facing her house. Everything seemed the same since the day she left. It was as though these 15 years didn't even occur and was just one long dream. Valerie rummaged her handbag for her old set of keys which she kept all these years, waiting for a a day like today.

Slowly, she inserted the brass key into the keyhole, half wondering if the family had changed its locks or something during her time away. The door catch clicked loose with one swift turn of the key. It was such a great feeling, after all those torrid years of silence with her parents, to know that they refused to change those creaking old doors, just in case, their dear daughter would come back one fine day.

Two Cups of Coffee

This story is dedicated to everyone in my life that's either always busy or lying to be busy just so that they can spend their entire day lazing at home.


When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day is not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and Two Cups of Coffee.


A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him.
When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls.

He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.


The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced Two Cups of Coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand.

The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.

The golf balls are the important things -- God, Family, Children, Health, Friends,and favorite passions -- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter -- like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else . . . the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first" . . he continued . . "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you."

"So... Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another game of golf (I, the writer prefers Football but a football is larger than life and can't fit into a god damn mayonaise jar!). There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first . . the things that really matter. Set your priorities . . . the rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked . . it just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."