Sunday, November 21, 2010

Willpower.

One day, a man was sitting on the bench in the park. He was holding a metal spoon, and staring at it.

Then, another man came by and saw this. Curiously, he approached the man at the bench, and asked, "What are you doing?"

He replied, "I am training my willpower, such that I can bend this spoon with my willpower alone."

"How long have you been at this?"

"A few days already, but nothing seems to change. This means I do not have enough willpower. I have to devote more time and effort to it."

After listening, the other man smacked his forehead with his palm in disgust. He said indignantly, "Hey, let me show you what willpower REALLY is." Having said that, he took the spoon away, bent the spoon with his two hands, then handed it back to him.

"THAT, is willpower." He said with a tinge of frustration, before leaving to mind his own business.

The man at the bench stared at the bent spoon, looking a little confused. Then, a wave of epiphany struck him. He beamed at this new understanding, and happily left the bench to mind his own business too, leaving the spoon behind.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Just like the one standing right in front of you

Jane is a celebrity. A very famous celebrity. Everyone knows her.

However, Jane got sick of her high life and decided to leave the show business for further studies, hopefully to get some peace back into her life, as well as return to her delayed interest in English literature. Fortunately, she enrolled into a local university with her almost expired but sterling A level results from 7 years ago.

She hasn't got used to the school environment yet, since lessons started a week ago. She has trouble navigating the large school compound. She has difficulties adapting to the less than desirable quality of food in canteens. She also has difficulties using the photocopying machine when she needs to copy her notes from library books.

People around her are helpful though. Hand drawn maps are given to her to help find the classrooms. Suggestions to various superior food places are offered to her readily. And photocopying cards are lent to her upon request when she has trouble getting them. Of course, she was a celebrity after all.

With all these help, it is not surprising that she is able to pick up on her academics fairly readily even after a seven-year hiatus, as compared to a two-year one by other guys.

Then again, some problems do not have straightforward solutions. Annoying guys for example, who have the audacity to try to pick her up during lunch times. Irritating girls are another, who cannot stop acting nice in front of her, yet gossip behind her back. But she shrugs these problems off, keeping in mind that these people are much milder than those in the show business. Troublesome, but a still manageable price to pay towards achieve normality, she thought.

But little does she realise the true price of normality.

In a few days time, she will encounter problems using the photocopying machine again. The papers will jam and cause her to be panicky. Then a decent looking nice guy will notice her plight, and approach to help with the paper jam, with a blueberry jam sandwich in his pocket. He will carefully open the machine casing, where the paper will be stuck, and slowly but firmly pull out the remains. He will fix the dislodged screw that caused the jam too. And during the process, he will have a small conversation with her, while chewing on his sandwich.

He will ask, “I am curious about something. How do you feel when people around you treat you so differently, just because you are famous? How is it different from the people who knew you before you are famous? Does it mean that you will not find new true friends here?”

She will reply, “Well, I am not very sure about seeking new true friends but, I am sure I will figure something out.”

Then, he will say, “There are many good people in this school, as well as not-so-good people. You know what do I mean by not-so-good people? Those who have ulterior designs about you. Those who will stop at NOTHING to get their hands on you. And those who will watch your every action, from the distance, every single minute. Just like the one standing right in front of you.” He will have closed the machine casing after that.

“Oh, okay, thanks for your warning.” She will say awkwardly, before realising what that decent looking nice guy's last sentence means.

By then he will be walking away, snickering.

Friday, October 15, 2010

A blind date

I peeked at my watch. One twenty three.

Here's your iced lemon tea, sir.”
Thank you.”

I took a sip to calm my nerves. Two more minutes before she arrives. It's not that I was very enthusiastic about meeting her, but...

My eyes fixed on my swirling iced lemon tea.

Good afternoon, is this Aaron?”

I looked up with a start.

Oh yes, so you must be Belle?” Someone guided her to the seat in front before leaving. She retracted her walking cane and placed it at the side of the table.

Miss, you may bring it here.” I called out to the waitress. I heard from my mum that you like Oreo cheesecake, so I've made some.”

Her smile was sweet.

***

I recalled the conversation I had with my mum a few days ago before this meeting.

See, I told you to look for a girlfriend in your university, but you didn't listen. Now you are working already, how to have the time to look for one??”

I gave her the sarcastic “Yes Mum” look.

Aiya, tell you what. I have a friend whose daughter is still single. Many people say she is a nice girl. I haven't met her before, but I think she is a nice girl since everyone says so. I help you arrange a meeting this weekend. So you better keep this weekend free.” Shortly afterwards, she took out her phone and dialled.

Ah yes, yes. I heard your daughter is really sweet. Haha. Oh my son ah... he's a little dense, but he's still a fine chap... Yes, yes... you will arrange with your daughter for this Saturday? Oh sure... I will let him know the details later. Thanks a lot. We should meet up for tea some day soon too, don't you think?”

*Click*

Remember. Keep your Saturday free...”

***

She laughed heartily at my attempted imitation of my mum's voice and mannerism.

You sounded like my mum too, other than her being a little more subtle when coercing me to come along for this.”

She scooped into the plate of oreo cheesecake. She finished half of it already.

Do you have anything in mind to talk about?” I stirred my glass of tea.

Well, normally, I prefer to listen to others instead...” She chuckled and looked towards me.

The clinging sound of the ice cubes in my tea made that quiet moment a little easier to bear.

After a while, she chuckled again. I followed a little awkwardly.

Many apologies, I am not good in keeping conversations going.” The ice cubes clang louder.

No worries, moments of tranquil can be more engaging than words.” She grinned, and scooped and savoured the cake slowly.

A cool breeze blew by. I was no longer stirring my glass.

***

She finished her last scoop of the cake while I sipped the last drop of the tea.

She placed the spoon on the plate. “Shall we take a walk somewhere nearby?”

Of course.”

She extended her walking cane, and held out her other hand.

Would you please?” She asked politely.

I took off my watch and kept it in my pocket.

No problem.”

Sunday, September 26, 2010

The train is coming.

“The train is coming! The train is coming! The train is comingggg...! Please start queuing. Love Your Ride!”

“Ding Dong!”

I woke up with a start, and my textbook went thumping on the floor. I picked it up frantically before rushing to the platform, but it was the other train. And it didn't help matters when someone else used this chance to take my seat.

I could almost hear my textbook complain about my clumsiness, but of course it didn't.

Three minutes to the next train, the screen above me showed. Not too far away, not too near. But not exactly enough to read anything meaningful from my textbook. So I stood there, and stared into space, thinking about random things, since it's more difficult to think about nothing than to think about something because more energy is needed to prevent our neurons in the brain from firing, activating action potential which will in turn produce electric currents that form thoughts and actions. Textbook stuff.

“Hey! Quit staring at me!” the occupier of Once-My-Seat called out.

“Huh?” I was staring nowhere near him during my whole thought process of how neurons work. I could imagine the disruption of my neural pathways by that sudden intrusion from my aural receptors that interrupted my thoughts. I apologised to the occupier of OMS and tried to look as embarrassed as possible since studies have shown that the look of embarrassment during awkward events helps to ease the apparent anger of the other party. I couldn't stand the sight of that guy so I turned my back towards him after my apology.

“I said, Stop, Staring, At, Me!” I turned around and met his raging, bloodshot eyes. I could explain the phenomenon of his bloodshot eyes, but I shouldn't bother since it was more important to find out how I got into this 'staring mess' in the first place. To make sure that he was indeed directing his rage at me and not the empty space in front, I took a side step left.

His eyes followed.

I took another step left. Yup, he was referring to me.

I executed my evasive move immediately to the other end of the platform. He followed. I moved again. He followed.

“Why are you following me?” he asked in a matter-of-factly angry manner.

“Erm, I am not?” I tried to look around for help, but there was only the full moon seemingly having fun spectating my plight.

“Who sent you?” He got more agitated.
“Erm, my school? I am just going home?”

“Seriously, I know where you are from. You are here to bring me back to that dreaded place again right? That damp, dirty, detestable place so f**ked up even the rats moved their family and their extended family and their extended family's extended family out of that cell...” The more he spoke, the more agitated he become, though I noticed his good amount of effort exerted to calm himself down.

“So why would anyone send you back to that place?”

“Why? Why?? You know the reason. You surely know the reason since they sent you here. All because I said something in front of your puppet masters, and it was just a 'something', that I had to go through all these f**king shit...” He began to mumble incoherently while pacing left and right near the OMS, biting onto his right fist every few seconds.

I looked nervously at the display screen. One more minute before the train arrives. I would be dancing with my textbook in joy if not for the extremely high chance of him boarding the same train, then claiming I was pursuing him. I would have hit him with my book if not for the CCTV that's spying at us from all corners... And why weren't the MRT staff coming to help me out? Could they be part of this too?

“You have mistaken,” I acted calm in front of him, “I am not here to take you away. I am here to protect you.”

“You are what?”
“Yes, you hear me right. I am your bodyguard. I am here to protect you from them.”
“Re... really? How do I know I should trust you?”
“If I were to be one of them, I would have sent a bunch of guys with their batons and handcuffs to get you already, instead of talking to you here. Make sense?”
“Hmmm... indeed...”
“But I cannot stay here for long. I will need you to follow what I tell you to do, so that you can be safe. Are you ready?”
“Ye... yes... please.”
“I'll need you to stay here, wait for the next train and board it when it arrives, alright? I will board this coming one so that I could distract them away from you. Alright?”

“The train is coming! The train is coming! The train is comingggg...! Please start queuing.”

“Love Your Ride!”

I was so loving my ride.

***

“You are receiving a telephone call. For the sake of those around you, please acknowledge it. Failure to receive this call in time shall result in an unsatisfactory mark on your test report, followed by death...”

That ringtone woke me up and my textbook went thumping on the floor again. This time, it couldn't be bothered to complain. I looked at the caller display: Private Number.

I switched off my phone. They are not going to track me down, even though I never understood why they would want me in the first place. For my superior intelligence maybe, like how I dealt with that madman some minutes ago. Heh.

I leaned against the glass panel again, and closed my eyes while the Dim Sum Dollies danced in the screen above me.

I could still hear the moon laugh.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

To end the drought.

Drought

The sun shone into my face. It's morning already. Apparently, i've sat there for the whole night, staring into the darkness. Tired you might ask? Yes i am, but i couldn't get to sleep. Many things went through my mind, but i could recall none. Overwhelming feelings? Overwhelming thoughts? Maybe. Been there so many times that i'm used to it already. Just let it pass by quietly.

The song went through my head many times. Many, many times. That's all i could remember.

“Just know you are unique in your own way.”

“Just know you are unique in your own way.”

“Yawns.”

I almost knocked myself as i leaned my head towards the edge of the door. It's been a while since i leaned onto anything. Maybe i should have knocked at it hard. Real hard. To wake myself up from the long slumber i had given myself for the past 4 months.

I stared across the dry field with my half tired eyes. Bare, barren. Did i see a fissure in a distance?

Finally, i pulled myself up from the doorway. I dusted myself clean from the sands of time that engulfed my T-shirt and my shoes, and searched my pocket. Ah, they're still there.

No water source around. How sad. I had to use my own saliva to moist the seeds.

Was that paper plane still around? Yes it was, lying at the corner of the house quietly. Somehow, the spiders did not make their new homes at that corner.

The sun still shone straight at my face. Yes, I know, I know. I shall get it done right away.

And so, I placed the seeds onto the paper plane and let it fly towards the swaying clouds.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

依旧

灵感来自于某天某日在地铁车厢内注视着冰冷的空气。。。

仍然是那一幅景象。

他们仍然坐在那第五个地铁车厢内右角落的第二和第三个位子。唯一不同的是他们的穿着,在那不变之中显得特别鲜明。

每一次往学校路途中,就是这样。我每次坐的位子都不一样,但不知不觉地,也在同样的时间融入了那似乎不变的景象。那时候第一次注意到他们的存在,我忘了带在车上常看的书籍,便开始注意着周围的环境。那时候,他已经在车厢里,旁边总是空着位子。到了加冷站时,她就会慢条斯理地踏进车厢,然后坐在他的旁边。过后,我隔天在同一个时间和地点也看到同样的一幕。他们总是一言不发的,静静地坐着,所以我开始特别地留意他们。

当然,他们也不是一直地对彼此沉默寡言。有时候,她会和他寒暄几句,他也会带着许些含蓄地回答。过后,又是一片宁静。但偶尔,他们会带着愉快的心情嘻嘻哈哈地,谈些他们那几个仅有的共同话题。其他时候,两人望着前方的空白、冰冷,无语。

别人说,千言万语不及无声的表达。

他不时望着她的方向,她的侧面,却又假装望着车厢的另一边。她注意到了,什么也没说,有时候还会露出那一丝的笑容,但他似乎没注意到这一点。当他们彼此眼神接触的那一刻,互相凝视着,那一刻时间停顿了。像电影里那样,周围的冷眼旁观者,为他们停下了脚步,取下了墨镜,向着他们,冷却。

别人说,停顿的时间才是天长地久。

有一天,他们累了,靠在彼此的头,闭目养神。看了这一幕,我不知应该羡慕他们,还是为他们哀悼。

今天我有了答案。

我无意中坐得比平时靠近,因此听到了他们的谈话。她一如既往地坐在他的旁边,但神色有些失措。仍然一言不发,直到女皇镇地铁站时。。。

“我今天会早一些下车。”

“哦,为何?”

“我男朋友遇车祸重伤进了医院,所以我。。。”她止住了,仿佛察觉到自己说了不该说的话。

他显得异常地镇定,但他那瞬间惊讶和受伤的表情,还是被我和她注意到了。

“哦,这样啊。”

他们脸上的神情,是束手无策。那往常的宁静,尔外地刺耳。

到站了,她立起身子,踏了那几步,回头望着他,在时间停顿的那一刻,踏进了月台。

他也累了,头靠在玻璃窗口,合上了双眼。

Saturday, April 10, 2010

The Flower Girl - Part Two

The continuation of The Flower Girl

As usual, I was early at the theatre, but not early enough to avoid the crowd already formed. I held on to my wallet where my ticketing receipt was, and stepped up to the counter to get my ticket.

A few moments ago, I imagined saying the following if I see her at the counter:

“哇。去年你在卖花,今年改行卖票了啊?”

Of course that didn't happen, because she was not there.

I retrieved my ticket at the counter and went into the theatre, with another thirty minutes to kill. I closed my eyes and took a break.

***

A 'pleasant' surprise waited for me during intermission. I walked down the stairs near the door and saw her holding a bunch of flowers, in her usual well-ironed blazer. I almost didn't know how to react to the situation.

She saw me, and asked that question yet again.

“你要买花吗?” But I thought her voice was a little different from before.

“哈哈,你去年卖花,今年也在卖花?”

“哦,因为我在票务嘛...”

I was a little taken aback by her response, since from what I know, the jobscope of 票务s didn't involve selling flowers. We smiled briefly, and I went ahead to the restroom before the 'awkward silence' could occur. Along the way, I wondered if she remembered me at all. She seemed to have remembered, yet I couldn't be sure...

I stood outside the theatre, and thought about how I should carry on writing this story. I could: (a) ask her directly if she remembers me; (b) check indirectly by asking her if the price of the flowers were the same as last year; (c) go and buy a flower from her as usual, and (c-1) give it to her again or (c-2) keep it; (d) do nothing.

Of course, I 'chose' option (d) because I learnt recently that humans tend to go for the default in the face of difficult decisions (ie do nothing). And she was already back at the counter (without the flowers) before I could make any decisions.

I went back into the theatre, with a little (= |).

***

The show ended and I left with the crowd. She was not outside of course, as she was on the stage for the 谢幕仪式. I didn't feel much about anything though, so I left for the MRT peacefully.

I do not know when I will see her again since she would have graduated next year, so until then...

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Untitled - by anastacia

once upon a time, the kingdom was lively with passion, vibrancy & life
voted as the top ten cities to live in
everyone was warm, friendly, sociable, kind & gracious

but as years went by, wars were fought & lost
at that point, the king was kidnapped by the enemies & presumably killed
the queen no longer had the resources, or the capabilities to defend her kingdom
finally a compromise was reached where the queen had to combine forces with her enemies to share onwership of the kingdom
but the queen was merely a figure head, the real reigns of power lay in the enemies' hands

the kingdom was no longer as passionate as it was
people were quite careful and competitive
no real sincerity & genuineness poured out of their hearts anymore
the queen no longer had the resources to protect her people and left them to the horror of the conquerers
the smiles disappeared & the happy innocence of the people disspitated
many a times, the queen wanted to save them but she was powerless
she tried again & again, drew up war plans again & again
but perhaps it was a lack fo courage, lack of resources or lack of the king's presence
or perhaps it was due to the fact that the people were already changing & she was powerless

all this time, a powerful knight stayed by the queen's side protecting her
although he was not the type of person the queen expected because he was always out in the city rescuing maidens & ladies from their usual cockroaches & spiders
gallant, wild & playful, the queen grew to trust & love this knight deeply although he was not the king
she knew that one day he would leave her to fight battles and win wars
one day he might nvr return
for knights like him, the world was too big, too fascinating to stay in a corner to remain a small knight always
he was much too talented and charismatic

one day the queen was sitting quietly sewing in a corner
her crown had been "borrowed away" again by the enemies
but she cldn't be bothered as it happened too many times
in fact, she was starting to enjoy the life of a being a peaceful commoner
at least she didn't have to be pressured to carry the burdens of the kingdom
lower expectations = less disappointment = happier endings?

but one day the king came back
it turns out that he was kidnapped & suffered from amnesia
he was the king queen had been waiting for for years to arrive & he finally did
but it was too late
the kingdom was in ruins, the power was shattered
& this king had no wish to stay,he only wanted to come & have a look at his once kingdom and have a look at his once gorgeous queen

he unlatched a small bottle and passed it to the queen
"this is your sunshine," the king said "i once captured the beauty of ur smile, the radiance of your glow, the sparkles from your passion, the sprinkles of fairydust from your innocence. it used to be in a big cylinder but i lost it when kidnapped. they took it out from the cylinders & used it to fill balloons. i only managed to save this small bottle for you my dear queen. you must find back what you were"

"look at you," the king continued "where's the radiant smile? i only see a fatigue smile. where's your kind heart filled with hope? i only see disappointment & fatigue when i look into your heart
where's your sunshine? i only hear rain"

with a shake of his head, the king said "i shouldn't have come back. to see my kingdom in ruins. & my once beautiful queen demoted to an ordinary wearisome woman. you're both a disappointment."

"anyways!" he said brightening up "i'm here to bid you goodbye. i've decided that i don't want to be bounded to a kingdom where the world is so big. i bought a huge ship & i'm going to sail around the world in the ship!"

"btw," he said before climbing into the ship "I know you love the knight dearly. but my dear queen, let me give you a word of king-ly advice. don't get your heart broken my queen. i don't see enough hope & strength left in your heart to sustain a broken heart. knights like these are meant to set free, they need to travel to go fighting & battling. even though i'm gone travelling the world in a huge ship, it doesn't mean that's the end for you. find someone that's willing to settle down to be your king, to rebuild the kingdom with you, to build the kingdom back to what it was.

it's just not advisable to hold on to a knight. they are meant ot explore & fight, not meant to be kings & princes.

you have three choices - you can strip off your crown & be normaliated to a common maiden. but bear in mind you're no longer that young nor that breathtaking as you used to be.
the other choice is to put back your crown and wait for a new king to come. you will never love him because your heart is with the knight. but at least you know he'll be a good king. and you can try to admire,respect and like him. but not love.
the third choice is to put on your crown, sniff that bottle i gave you & regain who you used to be.
& convert all your hurt & doubts into hope & optimism using the converter i bought you that year for your birthday. & you can be a queen for this kingdom who will play both the roles of a king and queen. but you must be strong."

"oh i'm running late my dear queen. good bye."

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

I am the briefcase that never runs out of money

Long overdue piece inspired by the conversation at the steamboat table during CNY, commenting about the endless Tiger Beer ad and an endless briefcase of money. Having replayed the classic Portal, I shall humbly attempt to emulate some voices of legendary GLaDOS in this piece of writing.

(Radio sounds from the speakers attached to the briefcase.)
(Play Theme song.)

(Human picks up briefcase)

Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt. Hello Subject [insert subject no.]. Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt.

Zzzt.

Hello Lucky Star!

You have to be the luckiest human to have found me here!

Why is that so?

Because you have just picked up The-Briefcase-That-Never-Runs-Out-Of-Money (aka TBTNROOM)!

Yes, you hear me right! The-Briefcase-That-Never-Runs-Out-Of-Money!

T-B-T-N-ROOM!

VROOM VROOM!

*coughs coughs*

Please pardon my occasional uncontrollable manic attacks. You must have seen that Hatter in action, do you not? Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt. Contextual error. Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt.

*coughs coughs*

So you must be wondering how is it possible to have a briefcase-that-never-runs-out-of-money? Simple! Because I am a briefcase-that-never-runs-out-of-money!

Please follow these easy steps to ensure that you will never run out of human cash to spend!

Open open, close close
close close, open open,
open close, close open.


That's right, in case you missed it, let's hear it one more time!

Open open, close close
close close, open open,
open close, close open.


Repeat these easy steps to get truckloads of paper cash instantly! No Fuss, No Muss, No GST! Authenticity guaranteed by the seal of approval from the TBTNROOM Association.

Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt.

Please take note that normal distribution dictates the probability of the success rates of the open open, close close process of manufacturing truckloads of money. In layman terms, sometimes you get the money, sometimes you don't.

In addition, please be advised that the TBTNROOM promises to provide good ergonomics for users handling the product. In semi-rare cases of non-ergonomic situations, the TBTNROOM promises to always provide useful advice. For instance, the handle of the TBTNROOM is laden with Tetanospasmin. Symptoms of exposure include muscle spasms and death. Handle with care.

In addition, please note that we have added a consequence for non-compliance of open open, close close procedure. Any incorrect moves or pauses in executing the procedure will result in an 'Epic Fail' mark on your palms, followed by a minor electric shock of 4000 volts.

Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt. Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt.

Muahahahahahaha! Zzzt! Major contextual error! Zzzt!

Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt.

The TBTNROOM will be very pleased if you pretend we were not enslaving you with the TBTNROOM. Please pick up the product, sit by the side of the road, and start opening! We might throw a makeshift picnic shortly to celebrate your tremendous success in using the TNTNROOM in fulfilling your wealthy desires!

Bzzzz Bzzzz zzzt.

Good luck!

Zzzt.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The story of the heartless man

Background: Inspired by The Girl with Two Hearts, a humble attempt to account for the heartless man and his tragic end.

I shall humbly take over to fill in the details of the tragic pair, the girl who once had two hearts and the man who is heartless. Perhaps I shall give more details about the heartless man for a more rounded account.

People never understood how the heartless man survives without his heart, because blood cannot circulate without its presence. The doctors who attempted to study him had a hypothesis though. Blood is needed by the brain for it to function, therefore they suggest that the blood circulates via brain activity to replace the pumping heart. Of course, this hypothesis is never tested due to constraints by the Ethically Ethical Ethics Guidelines set by the International Mediocal Boared (sic) to prevent such unethical experiments to be carried out. They could only clamour in a distance.

However, let me assure that the solution is actually quite simple. Know his name, and one will understand. Names are so important, am I not right? Especially when the name of the heartless man is Bi Gan. Yes, he is the same person who once had a seven-hole-rare-beauty (七窍玲珑) heart, but was taken out by the evil concubine of King Zhou thousands of years ago for her amusement. For the benefit of those ba****s who are not familiar with this legend, Mr Jiang gave Mr Bi a magical talisman to prevent his death after having his heart taken out. However, after surviving, he had to ask a lady selling kangkongs what would happen to a man with no heart. If the lady says “the man without heart still lives”, Mr Bi will survive. On the other hand, if the reply is “the man without heart dies”, he would vomit blood and dirty the whole marketplace with his exploded internal organs and, needless to say, die on the spot. The legend told that Mr Bi indeed had died on the spot and caused a civil war against King Zhou in the country when word about the incident spread, since Mr Bi was a wise official who governed with a heart.

But, as clichéd as it will sound, nothing could be further from the truth. The kind old kangkong lady actually said “I don't know. I think he will live a long long life instead since he would have no heart to take care of.”

And so, Mr Bi lived a long, long life, but had to feign death for obvious reasons.

Since we have clarified Mr Bi's background, it will be easier to explain what really happened between the girl with two hearts and him the heartless man. The doctors are right to say that Mr Bi used his brain for blood circulation. Therefore, his brain received tremendous amount of workout for the past three thousand years. And therefore, his brain power is far more superior than other mere mortals, but since he already lost his conscience along with his heart, his hobby of playing people around him like a game is understandable. And thus, the poor girl who once had two hearts was not spared from his random acts of finding amusement.

Of course, as our dear previous narrator has mentioned, Mr Bi made a miscalculation on which heart to break. And so, Mr Bi was caught totally off guard when the girl went on to execute her devious plans of revenge with her new found intelligence. Even his three thousand year old brain couldn't save him from this.

The details on the onslaught is unnecessary as usual, but worth noting is his outcome. For those who are wise enough to understand that history never fails to repeat itself, how he met his end is obvious. But for the benefit of those who don't, I shall carry on. After losing all his material possessions, he dejectedly exiled himself from the civilisation as a last desperate attempt to escape the clutches of one-hearted girl. On the way to the mountains where Mr Jiang lived, he met an old lady selling kangkongs by the roadside. Anyone of reasonably sound mind would have avoided this old lady at all costs for obvious reasons, but somehow, Mr Bi chose to approach her, and ask, “What happens to a man without a heart?”

Moments later, only a pool of blood and crushed skeletal ashes remain. The old lady gave the most devious grin, removed her make-up and wig, and called for her private jet to bring her back home.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

I almost became purple vapour

I picked out a set of blood and skin samples from the cold, grey bodies of those pseudo-ninjas and kept them into a vial, before vaporising them with a bottle of quick-acid. The rogue's best friend, they said. Then I sat down on a boulder nearby and started to read the documents recovered from the bodies. I could only make out the following words from the illegible writings: seize from the central tablet.

I promptly went back to the Plaza and searched the 'Central Tablet', where the 'poem of the day' was held. Knock knock. There was a hollow compartment at the side, and I pried it open. A shining token caught my eye. Same as the tokens found from those pseudo-ninjas. I looked closely at the engravings depicting a bull with the head of the man. An inverted Minotaur?

I trotted back to the castle where Purple was waiting for me in his office. He let out a sigh of frustration when he saw the documents and the set of five tokens I recovered.

“Those pseudo-ninjas were just having their entrance exams to enter this mercenary organisation Ruatonim. The head of the man symbolises craftiness while the bull body represents strength. Of course, those si ginas you fought just now have none of the above. HEHEHEHEHE!”

I rolled my eyes.

“I feel SOOO sorry for you wasting your time dealing with these insignificants, but your trip was not all fruitless. Thanks to you, our biology alchemists will be able to derive more information about the si gina race, MUHAHAHAHAH...” he pointed to the vials with his bony fingers, “and besides, your account helped confirm the series of increased activity from this organisation all over the kingdom. I wonder...”

He suddenly lost his grin, but he regained his composure.

“I will let you know again. You are so much better than those overpaid agents who gets nothing right. Good thing I accepted your resignation back then, so that you can choose to become free labour. Cut costs, eh? HEHEHEHEHEHE...”

I almost wanted to throw my quick-acid at him, but he would vaporise me easily on the spot before that could happen. And I wondered why I am still taking all his shitty laughters and mockings. He vaporised the Lamia that tried to eat you alive when you are a kid, dumbass. Yeah right, sometimes I wished it didn't happen at all.

I gave the sharp look of disgust in front of his Cheshire Cat grin and turned to leave.

“Before I forget, here's a little something for your efforts.”

He tossed a small pouch of silver coins and a brown dragonskin pouch to me. I caught them without looking back.

As I left the castle compound, I took a glance at Princess' tower. The lights were still on. I heard that she would head for another diplomatic trip to the land of the Dwarves soon.

I wondered again why I am still willing to go through all this shit.

Maybe I still secretly wished to be her imperial guard, but I heard just recently that the Prince sliced the Manticore into a hundred pieces when it tried to attack Princess on their way to visit the Elven embassy. He better make sure that he keeps up this good work, or else I might just sneak into his room and...

On the other hand, maybe I should just pass her my dagger instead.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Nightmare – From the Attacker

Background: The following is inspired by a nightmare a good friend had written about some time ago.

I don't really like my job. And it didn't help matters for me to have inferiority complex, which magnifies under the scrutiny of the Protected. It scares the hell out of me when they kept staring at me whenever I appear around them.

Yes, I know, I do emit and aura of fright and terror with black-tentacle-like representation of what is supposed to be just my swaying hair. And I know that I have to be consistently under the onyx hood that's supposed to be my only protection against the harsh environment they called Earth. The loud noises caused by the colliding of the air molecules gives me headaches.

Talk about 'favourable' working conditions. Compounded with unappreciative clients.

It is not an easy job watching over the Protected over a distance from the Creatures. Just some hours ago, my hair-held radar spoilt when watching over this pair of sisters in the shopping mall. I had to follow them frantically while trying to use my rusty Sense to track the flock of Creatures that were following them closely for the past few days. Man, my self-esteem hurt a great deal when those sisters fled upon seeing me. But at least they managed to get into their safe house before those flock could do anything to them. I got my radar back online later and vaporised them before they could regroup outside the safe house.

It's kinda lonely out there, staying all by myself in this old building for the next couple of years till the sisters turn twenty-one. That will be when the Creatures cannot bother them any more. Then I will use my ten-year leave entitlement to go back home and take care of my kids, which I forfeited previously because of my failure.

I am still having my share of day-mares ever since I failed my previous assignment. I could never forget her scream of anguish as the Creatures dragged her to their wormhole, as I watched helplessly just a few metres away.

It's been a long evening. I shall check out the cityscape for a moment of relaxation before commencing my nightly patrol around their house. As I stared towards the city lights, the family of them stared at me downstairs. I still remember those faces, particularly that Lucy girl who gave me a hard time many years ago. It was miraculous that she survived till now.

I chuckled to myself bitterly, and retreated to the shadows for the start of another long darkness ahead.

Haw Flakes

I was packing up my confectionery cabinet one fine day when I came across this packet of unopened haw flakes. A small packet of nine individually reddish paper-wrapped pieces with those familiar Chinese characters printed on each of them.

I snipped the package open with my scissors and a piece fell onto the table. I picked it up, tore the paper open, and took the haw flakes out. Slice by slice.

I put the first into my mouth. I felt it melting on the tip of my tongue. It broke. Then I went ahead and chewed another. The sound of crumbling sugar rang in my head as the sweetness of the flakes sipped into the end of my throat. I chewed again.

Irresistible.

I stared at the remains of the paper packet on the tabletop. And stared at the remaining eight that was tugging together intendedly. I looked at the paper shreds again.

Then, I promptly sweep them up in my hand and crushed them crumpled, throwing them into the dustbin. I opened the fridge and kept the other eight into a corner of the chiller compartment.

I opened my cabinet again. This time, I took out my favourite bag of sour gummy bears and savoured every bite of them in front of my laptop, while mourning for the loss of the world largest gummy bear.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

I was coughing dust in an espionage mission

My quest in search for the Babylon candle was put on hold when I found the dagger stuck at the saddle of my stead this morning. Apparently Purple had a mission for me. Even though I have resigned from my previous job as the guard of the imperial gardens, Purple would still assign me additional missions through the teleportation dagger occasionally. Some missions were more convenient for me to carry out as I am not considered part of the kingdom's military. Mercenary, perhaps (without the pay though).

I need you to go to the tavern to collect the 'package' from the middleman. He will brief you more on the details of this, delivery. HEHEHEHEHE.

I almost could hear his menacing laughter after reading the note. Irritating as ever.

The tavern was pretty crowded, but I found the middleman relatively easily because he was, well, literally his name. Middle-sized man, a rarity in this kingdom of extreme subjects. He coughed, and passed me a stack of scrolls, tied together neatly in a butterfly knot that seemed so strangely familiar. I coughed too, because it was so dusty, but the last thing I would do was to beat the dust off. It will attract way too much attention if everyone coughed.

“You might have heard about the poetry exhibition at the Plaza Central, and we have reliable sources telling us of a possible theft tonight. By the imperial edict, we need you to infiltrate the facility and investigate. Our imperial spies are caught up with other urgent matters for now, so we need your help.”

“And by the way, this stack of scrolls are just something extra. You may deal with it whatever you like.”

He winked. I was a little confused of his gesture, but after looking closely at the ribbon, I let out a smile. A smile of relief perhaps? It's been a while since I wrote anything to her.

I stepped into the Plaza. Crowded was an understatement. The Chinese had this idiom that goes by “People mountain people sea”, which I thought fitted the description like a pixel in a LCD screen. By common sense, the 'thieves' would take action during the night when the plaza closed, so I hid myself in the toilet cubicle and continue reading the book of Percy Jackson till nightfall. I stepped out of the cubicle amidst the silence of the night, holding tightly to the stack of scrolls, and scoured the area. The softness of the moonlight soothed the tense atmosphere.

Tip tap tip tap tip tip tap tap.. squeak!

Oh rats, literally. I stepped on one and it let out a squeal so loud that the shadows around me flinched. Oh wait, flinching shadows?

Before I knew it, a dart came shooting in my direction but the aim was so terrible that I did not need to move a hair to avoid it. Then came another. And another three more. All missed. And I thought they were trap darts, so I waited. And waited.

Squeak!

But nothing happened. My turn with my darts.

Ouch! Argh! Bam! Eeek! Wah!!!

Ting!

Oh, someone managed to block my dart. A dark-robed figure stepped out of the shadows behind the main panel of exhibition and glared at me with his/her/its glowing red eyes so hard that I thought him/her/it was going to burn up in flames. That thing charged towards me. It (as I've decided) swung its mace forty-five degrees inwards my neck, followed by a backhand swerve with a side kick and a knuckle punch. I blocked, jumped, deflected and countered. BAM! I pushed it back with my Shaolin Palm strike, forgetting that I was holding on to the scrolls.

Cough cough. Cough cough cough! It was coughing from my hit at its chest, while I am coughing from the scroll's dust. Our coughs were loud enough to make the whole rat nest squeal in terror (or delight?). But luckily, I stopped coughing first and placed my dagger at its neck.

“Speak, fool.”

It looked at me with teary eyes that almost made me sympathise with it, if not for its audacity to pull off an unsuccessful sneak attack. I slit its throat.

My dagger was stained jet black.

I searched all the bodies and picked up whatever tokens or documents that could help with my investigations and scouted the area again. Before long, my eyes caught the main panel of the poetry exhibition.

The Candy Factory

Gummy bears, gummy bears,
Hear my mark.

Gummy bears, gummy bears,
Dress yourselves up
in the pot of citric syrup

Gummy bears, gummy bears,
Arm and load
with your squeaky honey gloves
and your chocolate boots

Gummy bears, gummy bears,
Brace yourself

And jump into the ogre's mouth.


I almost puked on the spot. I unrolled the stack of scrolls I had, browsed through it, and replaced that panel with one of them.

sea of sorrow

rainbow swirls caramelised
where is the pot of gold?
i walked across the lollipop arch
just to arrive at a sea of sorrow.

i squinted my eyes and strained my ears
nothing but the sound of tears
and the naked sky is ever blue
like time has freezes and
is of no matter too.

and so i stayed
thinking of escape
but no ship ever dock
and there was not even
a gull in sight
for me to tie my string to
and take flight.

day after day i gaze
at the steady waves of sorrow
crashing breaking and stealing
grains of happiness from my shore
but soon i grew used to it
that melancholy lullaby
and palm trees started growing
upon that once barren soil.

i taught myself to garden
and planted flowers from seeds formed in my heart
they're watered lovingly with sorrow
and dyed scarlet with blood.

perhaps one day ships will come
over that dusty horizon.
through their eyeglasses perhaps they'll spot
flowers growing in the fog.

maybe they'll be curious and come ashore
i hope they'll marvel and wonder then
for whom these fragrant flowers bloom
and what secrets they harbor
beneath their lovely facades.


I looked at it intendedly once more, smiled, knelt down at Her Highness' brilliance and went ahead to drag the bodies out of the Plaza.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The story of Blondilocks and the three Angels

This was meant to be part of my fiction assignment, but I decided not to submit it after writing a whole new piece of work. There are two possible endings to this one I have thought of. Please feel free to comment which ending is better.

“It's so tiring...” complained Blondilocks. She's been walking along the forest trail, having nothing better to do for the whole day. Serves her right for being tired.

Blondilocks is quite popular in her village, being nice, cuddly and sweet, but no one knows her dark side. Everyone remembers the day when the statue of King Arthur Lee Ulysses was found disfigured with over-sized facial hair drawn on his face. And the day the dress of Queen Dame Ugglie was found painted horrible bright pink. The villagers blamed the poor wicked old witch for that, just because she has a long crooked nose and a lump on her head. She couldn't even draw.

It is obvious by now who the real culprit is, though no one else ever found out. She will get her karma though.

And the karma is right in front of her. Right inside the door of this house.

***

I stared at this building for a very, very long time. I have never seen such a magnificent structure, not even in my bedtime story books. It stood at about three times my height, decorated with panels of tinted glass with portraits of two angelic figures reaching out for the stars. Rays of light shone through the kaleidoscopic range of colours, reflecting them into my eyes. I was enthralled.

I quickened my steps to the front of the asymmetrical wooden door, the size of Papa bear I read about in one of the fairy tales. I forgot the title though.

The glowing door knob beckoned me to turn it, but I decided to knock first. Knock knock, anyone there? Knock knock knock... anyone? I turned the door knob.

The living room was surprisingly small and cramped. The sweet scent of vegetable porridge lingered heavily. I looked around again. A long dining table enough for three, a grandfather clock on the wall, a burning fireplace with a cauldron of yellow coloured soup, three dull-looking massage chairs and a staircase leading upstairs. But no one around. Anyone there? No response. I heard a growl though.

My stomach. I missed my breakfast this morning.

That was when I noticed the three bowls of porridge on the dining table. I took a deep breath. Sweet. And before I knew it, I was standing on my own puddle of drool.

The three bowls were of different sizes. Large, extra large, and extra, extra large. I went over to the large bowl, and took a sip. This porridge is too hot! Then I went over to the extra large bowl. This porridge is too cold! And finally, bearing that little bit of hope, I went over to the extra, extra large bowl and gobbled it whole as it was just right. Delicious.

Yawns.

My legs were aching from all the walking. I looked at the massage chairs. And looked. Small chair, extra small chair, and extra, extra small chair. Sitting there for a little while won't hurt a bit right? I went over to the small chair. The chair is too big and hard! Then the extra small chair. The chair is too big and too soft! And finally, feeling a little more hopeful, I went over to the extra, extra small chair and fiddled with the roller functions on the remote control as it was just right. Comfortable, other than the fact that the chair broke down a few moments later.

Yawned again.

I went up the staircase. The space was even smaller than the living room. A plain, white set up with cream curtains, colours matching to the three beds. The three beds, medium, extra medium, and extra, extra medium. Which meant they were the same size. I sat on the medium bed. This bed is too hard! Then the extra medium bed. This bed is too soft! And finally, I lay down on the extra, extra medium size bed, which was just right, and went into the land where Morpheus governs.

***

Oops.

I forgot to lock the door before leaving the house to visit Grandma's old friend, the wicked old witch in the forest, with Mama Angel and Baby Angel. As usual, the poor wicked old witch ranted about the disfigured statue, the hot pink dress and the villager's discrimination. Ah, disgusting humans. Make judgement of others so easily.

We had to bid the wicked old witch goodbye when Baby Angel almost tore down the poor witch's stick hut with her wings. Because she was hungry. When we reached home, our door was ajar.

Oops.

I went ahead first before Mama and Baby. The fireplace was still burning strongly for my vegetable curry, but horror was defined by the touched spoons on the dining table, and the empty bowl that belonged to Baby.

Somebody's been eating my porridge! Mama, bad news. You better hold Baby back before she sees this.

Somebody's been eating my porridge too! Papa I've got her.

Somebody's been eating my porridge and they ate it all up!

Luckily, Mama held Baby back before she could do any real damage.

And if that's worse enough, my massage chair was switched on.

Someone's been sitting on my chair! I was hopping mad already.

Someone's been sitting on my chair too! Mama's face was as red as the fire in the fireplace.

Someone's been sitting on my chair and they've broken it all into pieces! Baby's tears of anguish almost flooded the house.

Oh no! Our beds!

We rushed upstairs. Someone's been sleeping on my bed! Someone's been sleeping on my bed, too! Someone's been sleeping on my bed, and she's still there!

I stared at her for eternity. I smirked. I sent a telepathic message to Morpheus, telling him to keep her company a little longer.

Mama dear... could you help me to sharpen my Cross Blade? Baby flapped her wings in delight.

Her head would make an excellent addition to the curry in the cauldron.

Alternate ending to be continued with previous

“Hello Morpheus dear!”

“Oh hello Blondi. I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“I am fine, I suppose. But I am still feeling kinda hungry even after that extra, extra large bowl of porridge. Any suggestions?”

“Hmmm... let's see...”

Beep beep! Beep beep!

“Oh I've just got a message from your dinner tonight. He asked me to accompany you for a little while more.”

“But I am hungry already!”

“Ah... don't worry my dear, would you like to have wings for dinner later? Wait for me here while I get some marinating sauce...”

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Conclusions

“Hey buddy, congratulations in getting that trophy!”

“Hey Alan, you're welcome! You did put up a good fight, you know. I was almost caught off guard.”

“Haha, yeah. Oh man, I missed my flèche by that tiny bit. I guess I was a little too impatient.”

“...”

“Hey Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Could you take good care of Clare?”

“...”

“Yeah, don't worry. I will.”

“If you don't, I will make sure that my next flèche hit you hard.”

***

As I close the storeroom door and walk out of the sports hall, I saw Claudia at the carpark, seemingly waiting for me.

She smiled at me. I smiled back.

Then I understood what her smile meant. Someone else was waiting for her in his car.

A few moments later, we did what seems to be so common in dramas nowadays. We turned our backs towards each other, and she walked back to his car while I headed back to my bicycle.

I rode uphill back to my room after that.

***

"Leaving someone behind means you only want the best for her/him, even if it means swallowing the sad reality that, the best just isn't you."

Monday, February 1, 2010

Blue masks, red masks and the green mask

Another hard day of training at the club, and another harder night of equipment packing in the store room before going back to my room to sleep. I was alone again, hanging the suits, breeches, plastrons and the like onto the shelf and keeping the blades onto the stands where they belong.

The smell of stale sweat and saw dust lingered.

It's time to keep the masks. I always liked to arrange the masks properly in the cupboard according to their colours. Sometimes I would keep them separated into their different colours, while other times I would mix and match to form various shapes and contrasts. Made my mundane job as the logistics 'officer' a little brighter.

I stared at the big blue mask I always wear during trainings. I looked inside of it again, which was filled with nothing but the odour of my sweat.

I was suddenly reminded of the research article I read a few days ago. It was regarding the science of attraction, and the aspect of how our scent gives us an advantage in identifying a partner with different genetics so as to maximise the immunity system of our offspring. In other words, the more potential that prospective partner is, the more pleasant his or her scent is.

So out of plain curiosity, I picked up a mask and moved my head closer to it, before putting it back to that cupboard.

Aileen, Bernard, Danny, Eileen, Frank, Geraldine, Herald, Ignatius, Jacqueline, Kathleen, Linda...

And finally, Claudia. That green mask belongs to her.

I did not know Claudia for a long time, but that first day when I saw her at the club, she was familiarly strange to me. That moment was a little awkward, when I stared at her for a prolonged period of time that might have been considered rude. She turned around and looked at me too. And we finally smiled briefly at each other after a long silence.

Her movements were graceful, her steps like a dancer communicating to her opponent like her audience. I named her blade 'Ballerina's Point', but she never knew.

Once in a while, I would ask her out for lunch and we would go to the nearby food centre and order a plate of fishball noodles each. And she would take out her candy pouch full of gummy bears and offer it to me. I would reject her kind offer even though I liked gummy bears as much as she did, but she never knew.

It was never about my lack of courage. Perhaps I am just not sure about myself. Perhaps I am more afraid of myself than afraid of her. Maybe she knew, or maybe she didn't.

I stared at the green mask for an eternal second.

And took a deep breath.

The story of a woman in a little blue house

An in-class exercise for HZ101 based on the following plot lines:

1.A woman goes deaf as a result of an explosion
2.She can no longer hear partner snoring
3.She is able to sleep, takes up recreational shooting


“Boomz!”

Nancy was up in her typical day, doing her household chores in her little blue house on top of the little blue hill when her husband was out for work, when a loud explosion occurred some distance away down at the foot of the hill. Apparently, a car bomb has gone off accidentally, which was supposed to be aiming at the big blue building some streets away where the big blue mayor lives, but the perpetrator was idiotic enough to park the car too far away to have any effect.

Instead, a shrapnel flew into the kitchen window where Nancy was cooking her pie for lunch and hit her ear, causing her to go deaf.

However, instead of mourning over her loss of hearing as others would do, she was actually quite delighted because being deaf meant that she would not have to stand her husband's snoring every night, which disrupts her well-needed rest after working around the house. With her new found rest, she still has excess energy after finishing her housework. Thus having nothing better to do, she took up recreational shooting to pass time on top of the little green hill at the opposite town.

And a few weeks later, while at the range, she aimed into a little green house in front of the little green hill and shot the car bomber with her Winchester.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Flash

Written upon request to match the drawing from A3 Fencers.

“Welcome back to the finals for the Annual Fencing Masters.”
“We are currently at the final bout between the finalists vying for the coveted trophy and honour for this prestigious competition.”

“The score now is 14 to 14.”

Salutes.

“En garde, Prêt,”

“Allez!”

***

When I first saw Clare, I did not pay much attention to her, until one fine day when Coach commented, “She has the potential I am looking for in a female fencer.” For a while more, I looked at her. Indeed, she had the aura of strength that could be mould into a future champion.

From then on, I noticed her more and more.

She was never a demure lady that anyone would expect of females at her age, but yet something about her intrigued me. Or perhaps attracted my metallic attention like a magnet.

“Hey Alan!” She would call out to me joyfully every time we see each other at the piste.

Very often, I couldn't take my eyes off her. I had to slap myself awake and get on with training.

***

I have known Ben for as long as I remember, and somehow we always had the same interests. Same school, same CCA, same dietary preferences. We even lived in the same block, before I moved away to 'the other side'.

I never thought that our similarities would bring us much trouble until Clare came along.

***

All this while, I had been telling myself that my perceived 'feelings' for Clare are temporary.

“It is just an infatuation lar. It will be over real soon.”

“It's just a passing phase. A passing phase! You are just desperate lar.”

But every time people around me talk about the 'possibility' between both of Ben and Clare, since they seem so close now, that bottle of water would taste lemons. I still had to force a smile in front of them, because no one knows what I am thinking. No one should know, not even Clare.

Living in that state of conflict, I often wonder where my heart truly lies.

***


“You got it all wrong, Clare! I... I... would never...”

I never forget that conversation I had with Alan that day. I never seen him so flustered, so frustrated, and so agitated in denial.

Ever since the day I joined the club, I always felt something from Alan. Surprisingly, I am not uncomfortable at all.

And ever since Ben told me his feelings towards me on the bus trip home, everything changed. I truly appreciate his love, and I am more than willing to give it a shot for the both of us. My heart says yes, but my mind told me I am not ready yet. And so we became closer, sharing our lives to the fullest detail, understanding each other, until I am ready to say yes.

But I never knew that things would become such a mess.

And now, right in front of me, is Alan and Ben slugging it out in the finals of the competition. A close match as it ever was during trainings. But I am feeling an aura of ruthlessness from the both of them throughout the bout.

Hopefully, I am being paranoid in my above statement.

And hopefully, both of them would be safe.

***

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,”
“Five,”
“Four,”
“Three,”
“Two,”

Flash!

“BEEP!”

“Touché. 15 to 14.”

“Bout.”

The girl who could move chairs without using hands

A tribute to Yuriko from Red Alert 3. 'News report' 'extracted' directly from Uprising.

Today is my 10th birthday.

I am so excited, because my birthday party later would be a bash! I am so looking forward to all the gifts and food and company. I have invited all my classmates along for tonight.

Especially that girl in my dreams. I am so glad she agreed to grace the party with her presence.

The decorations in my house are all set, as well as the cakes and the buffet dinner, with generous helpings of sushi and hamburgers. I made some of them too, though my mum and sister did most of the work.

I wonder if she likes tuna maki. Those are my favourites.

The clock struck seven and here comes the crowd in their party hats, jinbeis, kimonos and American jeans alike. And presents of all shapes and sizes flood my room like a tsunami wave. I am grinning from cheek to cheek for that hour.

But I haven't seen her yet. Where could she be?

I am relieved to see her coming to the doorstep, with her mum holding her hand. She looks a little scared, not used to the crowd I guess. Her mum knelt down and said a few comforting words to her, before she left. Then she sat by herself at a corner, staring into space.

For reasons I do not understand, she was not well-liked in class. Bullies often pick on her, saying mean things to her, while others just stared and watch. I couldn't do anything to help, not before I mastered my karate anyway.

I went over and sat down beside her.

“Yuriko, I am glad you are here tonight.”

“Yup.” She did not look at me though.

“Need me to get you something to eat?”

“Erm... okay...”

I am so elated when she finished all the tuna maki I brought for her.

***

I invited her over to my house to play after school.

I have recently acquired a Go set, so I eagerly take it out and show it to her. I taught her the basic rules of the game, and she picked it up quite quickly.

Too quickly I suppose. I am thrashed countless times in that game. I am so embarrassed.

Then Tabby the cat came by, and came close to her. She stroked Tabby gently.

“Do you remember Sensei once told us that only some animals can fly? Like birds and bees?” She said out of the blue.

“Yeah he did mention something about that,” I replied, a little confused.

“Actually, I think he is wrong. Cos cats can fly too!”

And before I know it, Tabby is slowly ascending from the floor, and floating around the house. At first Tabby struggled a little, but she got hold of herself and went with the flow. Tabby seems to be enjoying her flight.

And of course, my jaws dropped.

“How did you do that??”

“Well, I just think about the cat flying, and so it did. Simple.” She said matter-of-factly.

I recovered from my awed-struck mode, before I jokingly asked her, “So can you fly too?”

“Nah, Sensei is right about one thing: Humans cannot fly by themselves.”

We burst into laughter.

***

The last I have seen of her was a few days ago, when I was on my way to visit her at her house. When I reached her garden, I saw several imperial guards storming into her house. Before long, they reappeared with Yuriko in their arms and her parents kneeling and begging them not to take her away. A man in white robe, who looked like a scientist, was pacifying them.

“We are trying to protect her from others. Don't worry, she will be in good hands.”

And they drove her off in a military transport, across the plains to nowhere.

***

I just had my first tour around the Imperial Military Institute. Gargantuan is the only word I can use to describe it.

It's been six hard years since I got the Shogun's Scholarship to study Nanotech engineering at the Imperial University of Tokyo. I've never liked engineering, even though nanotechnology was indeed an interesting subject to dwell into.

I haven't heard from Yuriko for the past 15 years. I hope to change that after my first day of work at the resource centre. From my understanding, that place houses libraries of information regarding our military capabilities. I will start my search from there.

Things seems to be a little tense I observed. I sure hope nothing catastrophic is going to happen.

***

I cannot believe my eyes.

I hacked into the military database to search for more information about our psionic military research, when I saw that familiar name. And those horrifying archived footages.

What have you done to Yuriko, you abomination?!

When I get my hands on you, Dr Shimada...

***

“By now you should have heard stories about Yuriko Omega, the mysterious Japanese girl with terrifying psionic powers. During the war the Allied soldiers claimed that she decimated entire combat battalions using only her mind.”

“Who is this young girl? Where did she come from? And how did she develop these fearsome and fantastic abilities?”

“Yuriko's history is somewhat murky. Some sources say that her real name is Yuriko Matsui, and Omega is simply a codename used by the military. According to the same sources she was born in the small coastal town of Tanabe and she exhibited paranormal powers from the time she was very young.”

“There were indications that she was scorned by her schoolmates because of her unique abilities. When the government learnt of these talents, she was taken away to the Shiro Psychic Research Centre run by this man... Dr Shinji Shimada. He is widely known in his advances in the area of psionic research.”

“What did the scientists at the Shiro research centre do to this confused, lonely little girl? We may never know exactly, but whatever it was, she was never the same again.”

***

I managed to escape to New York City before the Empire was crushed by the Allied forces during the Third World War. Speaking from fairness, the Empire and our Emperor had it coming to have foolishly declared war with the world, only to be defeated at our own heart in Tokyo.

I feel so powerless though. I heard that Yuriko is detained in the jungles of Guam, along with other prisoners of war. I am so worried. But at least she is still alive. I've got to find a way to reach her.

I could hear her cries of desperation and pain in my dreams every night.

Until I got a call from a friend.

“You better switch on the news now.”

“Allied military officials still refuses to comment on the disastrous events which followed Yuriko's detainment. We do know this though: Yuriko Omega was nowhere to be found and is now assumed to be on a run. Where could she go? If the military knows, they aren't saying.”

“One thing is certain however, sometime, somewhere, she will reveal herself. And when she does, hundreds, thousands or possibly millions will be in very grave danger.”

“So did they think she's trying to get back to Japan?”

“No one knows, Ted, since her escape there has been no sign of her whatsoever.”

Oh great. Yuriko levelled the prison in Guam and is on a run now. I know I shouldn't have, but I let out a cheer of delight, knowing that she's safe. As I calmed myself down, I recalled that sentence she repeated countlessly to me in my dreams.

“I have a score to settle. I have a score to settle.”

Time to pack up and book a flight to Tokyo.

***

By the time I reached the outskirts of the now defunct capital, only debris remains for the Shiro Research Centre. And I could feel her presence on the hill top at the other side.

“Yuriko...”

She landed herself and looked at me with her tired eyes. And smiled.

***

Today is Tabby's 20th birthday. I've made a pair of angel wings for her to wear as her present.

So that Yuriko could fly her around again with her wings, with the both of us.

The truth behind the story of the tortoise and the hare

My first exercise in HZ101 to rewrite a childhood story.

Oh man. I lost it big time. I still can't believe that I lost to tortoise in that race.

It's humiliating.

I could still recall that day when I was telling that group of hare-babes that race of the century in which I won cheetah by that tiny notch. It was phenomenal. I would never forget that day when I crossed the finish line, the cheers from the crowds and the wows by the king of the jungle. And the priceless honour to receive the olive crown of excellence.

And that stupid tortoise had to spoil my day by ridiculing me in front of the babes, and challenge me to a race instead. Of course I laughed at that suggestion, so as others too. But that hot bunny said that she was curious of seeing both of us in a race, so I accepted the tortoise's challenge.

As usual, I did my training drills a few weeks before the race to keep my fitness up to the mark. Even though it's a sure win for me, I cannot afford to be careless. There must be a good reason why that tortoise dared to challenge a five-time jungle champion, and I definitely wouldn't take any chances. My reputation was on the line, and so I had to keep myself in tip-top condition and win it with style.

But it was sure an unlucky day for me, really. On that big day, when I woke up, I found my basket of carrots missing. Apparently some shameless thief broke into my house and took them all away! Strangely, the rest of my valuables, like my carrot seeds and bunny ear pads, remained intact. I guess that thief must be a really hungry one, and when I get my hands on him/her/it... after I get that race over with first of course. My stomach was growling though, but it shouldn't be a problem for just a one farm lap race right?

At the starting point, my stomach was still growling, as loud as the rolling drum. That tortoise, hearing that growl, was kind enough to offer me a carrot to fill my stomach. It was delicious I had to admit, and was for a moment grateful of him. I was feeling more hyped up with energy than before. I was sure to win this hands down.

The roar of the lion king signalled the start of the run. I went ahead of the tortoise at the first instance, and it was a pretty smooth run with no hiccups like some hedgehogs standing in the way or scarecrows scaring the hell out of me. I ran, and ran, and ran, and without warning, I felt very, very dizzy. I stopped for a little while, knowing that the tortoise was still quite far back, and tried to shake myself back awake. No use. Then a splitting headache like a sledgehammer on my skull. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch...

After a few minutes, my headache and dizziness subsided. But I felt strangely tired and sleepy. The weather was hot, and a tree with a huge crown by the road side beckoned me to go over and enjoy its cooling cover. How could anyone resist that? And so I hopped myself over and sat under the tree, looking at the leaves sway with the wind before I closed my eyes.

“Beep beep. Beep beep.”

That was my pulse watch's alarm. It would ring if I were to slack too much, which usually amounts to five minutes. But strangely, the pulse watch's alarm was set to a full hour! I panicked. Does that mean I have slept for the past hour?? I panicked even more, before I rushed to the finishing line with speed and vigour never before. I actually broke my personal best timing with that sprint.

But the tortoise was already waiting, smiling, at the finishing line.

He waved.

***

Sun Tze's Art of War states: “Know thyself and thy enemy, and thy shalt know no losses”. Other animals would think that I was foolish enough to challenge the king of the hill in his tracks. They would be right if I were to have done it on impulse. Except that I didn't.

Preparation is very important in fighting a war. Sun Tze had also mentioned that we must be prepared and know the victorious outcome of the battle even before it was fought, rather than go into the battle trying the seek victory. Those who know me well know that I am never rash, and would plan everything prior the battles I face.

But still, I am quite appalled by the stupidity and dullness of the hare, who was so full of himself. Served him right. Any animal in their sound mind would be able to guess that the series of unfortunate events happened on the race day was orchestrated. I would have let him have the race if he were a little more sharp.

I researched the hare's training schedule for the race so that I would know as much about him as possible. His daily schedule, his diet, his leisure time, were all within grasp, so I could plot his demise effectively.

I know fully that I could never outrun him in any way, not even in a hundred years (even though by then he would already be six feet under), so the only way to win him is to prevent him from finishing before I do. Once this context was established, the strategy to adopt became crystal clear.

First, I would get rid of his breakfast. It took me a long while to convince the ninja turtles to help 'retrieve' the basket of carrots from his burrow. You should have seen their elegant execution of their mission. Raphael went onto the frontline to unlock the window. Then Michelangelo opened the window, while Donatello set up the CCTV to look out for any unexpected disturbances. And finally, Leonardo leapt into the room gracefully, and stealthily took out that basket of carrots. They said never put all your carrots in one basket. How amusingly true.

Next, I concocted a sleeping serum. The serum was formulated based on the metabolism readings and blood type collected from the hare when he 'accidentally' scratched himself one fine day, so as to achieve an optimum knock-out probability. I did some calculations on the amount of time needed for me to finish the race route, which was about fifty minutes. So I conveniently adjusted the concentration of the serum to allow him to 'rest' for an hour. Always give yourself a buffer to minimise risks of screw-ups to the minimal. Oh and before I forget, I have also asked Donatello to adjust the hare's 'Anti-slack' pulse watch to sound off at an hour instead of his usual five minutes, in case the serum worked too well. A little mercy is always desirable, isn't it?

And finally, the moment of truth. That 'altered' carrot sure looked tasty to me too, as it was cultivated with my heart and soul in my humble farm. But it has its own purpose of existence, which was fulfilled without any hitch. Its job is done with grace.

And so, victory was sealed.

The Dragon's Diary

An alternative idea from the previous story.

Dear princess,

I've never told anyone why I renounced my title as a 'Sir' that fateful day after returning from my holiday road trip. Because I am so ashamed of myself, and so fed up with the hypocrisy the courts, ever since I was knighted for my 'glorious' deed of rescuing the princess from the 'evil clutches' of the dragon who kidnapped her that decade ago.

No wonder you never smiled when you see my mace on the dragon's head. No wonder you never smiled for the past decade.

After getting frustrated by the merry making tendencies of those useless officials and the endless paperwork that's nothing but a façade for the ineffectiveness of the kingdom policies, I decided to take unpaid overseas leave to de-stress myself. I went to a number of places, seen a lot of things that I've missed out on during previous official diplomatic and military excursions, and I even went back to visit that old tower where that battle of the century took place.

A mysterious force beckoned me to go into that ruins again. I decided to follow it.

In the wreckage of cob webs and dust, I stepped into the very spot where I encountered it. It still looked the same. That broken chandelier that barely missed me when the dragon swung its tail. That mirror I had smashed into pieces when I missed my mark. And that broken chair I've used to throw at it out of desperation. I laughed as picked it up. What on earth was I thinking man? Using a chair to throw at a fire-breathing dragon?

I went in deeper, and found the room you were kept in. Without the traces of age, it was gorgeous. The room was well furnished, as good as our room. It was very similar to our room's layout and design. No wonder you had so much requests in renovating our room prior our wedding day.

I went ahead to visit the dragon's room next door. It was as big as expected, but not the bookshelves. The collection of books was humongous. It ranged from history, philosophy, to even arts of magic and technology. I took out one of them to browse. Intriguing material.

There's a chest sitting quietly at a corner of the writing desk beside the bookshelves. A few gems, crystals, a stack of scrolls and a diary were inside. The dragon's diary. Interesting, I thought. I sat down on the writing desk and began to read. It's written in an official dragon's tongue, which I've studied before in my knight school. Know thy enemy they said, which I thought was absurd then.

I read through its pages carefully, immersing myself into its life as a majestic and feared beast with its beautiful writing. Then I read the final entries, till its final moments before I barged into the tower uninvited.

I was devastated.

The biggest mistake in my life in a moment of rashness and ignorance.

I have translated that portion which I thought you should know of as enclosed. The original diary is in your drawer now.

Words of apology will never be enough. That is why I have to leave. For me to think about things. For me to repent.

But still, I am sorry.

***

Day 1 in The Tower

It is that time of the year again. To move house. I don't understand why we dragons have to move our dwellings every decade as dictated by our culture. What for? It is so troublesome, especially when I have to move my cases of books over.

But nevertheless, I have found a pretty good location as a place of residence. The old tower by the hillside. I did a bit of research on this place, and found that the tower was once resided by a famous orc shaman who was an expert in human magic. An orc practising human sorcery? Interesting indeed. I should be able to find some interesting remains of information about this shaman when I move in later. Maybe I could learn a new spell or two?

Meanwhile, I still have to figure out a way to move my existing inventory of books into this place. Oh well.

Day 5 in The Tower

Almost a week has passed since I've moved into this place, and I am finally done with arranging my books properly. Credits to my mum who taught me a simple spell called 'Dancing books' since she knew my interests in all things textual.

I did a bit of exploring around the area and found a few human settlements. Interesting. It's been a while since I've been in contact with any of them, since few were 'brave' enough to pay me a visit. And among the few who have visited, most of them were after my 'perceived' treasure. I never had anything valuable to those pesky humans, unless they really liked my collection of books so much. Too bad I had to bite their heads off since they were such a pain in the neck. They could have opened their mouths and asked.

As I mentioned, there was an exception though. Years ago at my old residence, there was this human, who called herself a Dragon Mage, dropped by and tried to converse with me in fluent Dragon Tongue. I was pretty impressed, so I let her in and showed her my collection of books and shared with her my signature lamb roast. She parted with one of my books about the history of dragons, a summarised one that is, since she was quite interested in that. I did not tell her that I was a historian, and that book was written by me. She should be honoured. Heh.

Anyway, something interesting happened when I was soaring on top of the plains. I saw a group of humans chasing a carriage with a few horsemen as an escort. I suppose that group were bandits since they were sure dressed like one, while the carriage was of royal background with the emblem on the horses. I never understand why humans like to fight each other so much. Perhaps they were still a young race, as we had a sad history of violence too, though we grew out of it eventually. Time will tell.

Out of boredom and curiosity, I've decided to play a trick on them. I landed some distance away in the carriage's path, and waited. However, I didn't know that the equestrian skills of the horsemen and the carriage were so bad, that they crashed into me. Ouch. The bandits who caught up later, did what I've expected though, by running away hysterically upon sight. I laughed.

I looked at what was left of the carriage. It was unsightly even by my standards. None from the convoy seemed to have survived the crash, until I heard a faint gasp. A lady pulled herself out of the wreckage, looked at me for a while, before knocking out. Somehow, I've decided to bring her back to treat her wounds. Now she is lying in that room beside mine sleeping soundly.

Time to concoct her medicine before she wakes up.

Day 10 in The Tower

She is one active princess I would say. Her energy seems to be inexhaustible. She's been out exploring the whole tower all day without rest, and every time she finds something interesting, she would drag me along to check it out. So far she has found three energy gems, five magic crystals and ten scrolls of spells. I wanted to give her one, but she refused, saying that she found it in my house, so it's mine. Such a cute lady.

In case you are wondering, dear diary, I understand and know how to speak human. Heh.

Her wounds were almost done healing, but when I suggested her leaving in a few days' time, she threw tantrums around. She kept complaining about how she disliked living alone in her room with no freedom in doing the things she likes, how she disliked the etiquettes a princess has to adhere to which she deemed redundant, how she disliked the monotonous tasting food, and the list goes on. I got a little fed up with her ramblings, so I made a compromise by telling her that she could stay up to a month only, treating it as a holiday resort before I escort her back home to her worried parents. She reluctantly agreed. Later she told me that she might be bored of this place in a month's time anyway.

I was quite amused by that comment.

Meanwhile, I will be teaching her how to prepare my other signature dish 'beef grill' later so that she could suggest to her chefs when she returns.

Day 30 in The Tower

I was quite disappointed from my trip to the Witch's.

“You want to WHAT?? Am I hard on hearing or something? You said you want to become a human???”

“Erm... Yes.”

“All because of that silly girl?? Are you out of your mind?? This is the most absurd request I have ever heard!”

“I... I... Does that mean that we have the same kind of heart as humans do?”

“...”

“Come back to me in a week's time. It should be prepared by then.”

“A week? Is there any way to hasten the process?”

“Unfortunately, no. Any compromise to the process will only endanger yourself and those around you.”

“...”

“Okay, I will be back in a week.”

A week. By then, she would already have left.

Day 32 in The Tower

A few days more before the end of princess' holiday. I am feeling more lost then ever.

“Hey “Your Royal Highness” (as I always liked to call her in a mocking tone), how do you feel about your holiday so far?”

“Pretty cool. It's even more fascinating to have a dragon as a 'tour guide' for this holiday. Haha. I had a lot of fun! This would be the best holiday I had so far, or perhaps ever!”

“I am glad you had enjoyed your stay here. It's fun to have you around too.”

“...”

“Hey draggie, don't cry! I have never heard of ferocious dragons cry before, much less see one. This wouldn't look good on you right? Haha... yeah I know... I will miss you too. I promise I would come by and visit you often, alright?”

“Oh hold on while I go and get a bottle. It's quite rare to acquire a bottle of dragon tears right? Hahaha. I can bring it back as a souvenir.”

On a bright side, there are still a few days more to count my blessings.

Day 33 in The Tower

I should have known.

The human king has sent someone after me for the princess. I heard that he's a knight who has graduated as the top student from the Knight School. He also has a nickname of 'One-Man Army'. Is he really that powerful? I wonder.

I could smell him a few hours away. I could also smell a huge lump of mithril steel, possibly a huge mace as his weapon of choice. And I once thought that all knights carry swords or claymores to battle.

Nevertheless, no one is going to deprive me of the last few days with her.

And I mean no one.

Time to stretch myself a little, and warm up my fire lungs.

***


She found the knight standing by himself in the dragon's room at the old tower, staring out to the pitch black sky.

“...”

“I knew I would be able to find you here.”
“I am grateful for your love and kindness for the past decade. I really am.”
“Everything is okay now. Really.”

“Please come back with me.”

And the moonlight shines into the tower with their hands held tight, reflecting her tears and smile.