A broken pencil on a pavement.

One of my old stories that got me a decent grade in my class ^_^

            

            She twirled her pencil with her fingers, and stared into the dark blue sky.  She could see dusty golden streams sweeping through the landscape that comprised only composite blocks of great masses.  She couldn't see the ball of flame, but she could feel its presence, as it slowly but surely coloured the sky and brought back the silver lining of the clouds. 

           

            She stood up on the ledge.  She stared across the landscape that was hardly a landscape any more.  Three giant slabs of monstrosities allowed the UFO, disguised as a garden, to cast its watchful glare over the piece of cemented jungle it ruled with false grandiose.  The emerging rays glistened off their steel and glass, dictating their overwhelming presence.  They glowed like crystals under the watchful lens of the jewel maker, full of life and energy.  Yet, they never fail to suck all life and energy from her whenever she stepped into those crystal cages every weekday.

            She turned away, and peered down the ledge.  Working ants and transporting beetles emerged from their concrete nests, moving back and forth through the well connected networks of tunnels and roads.  She snorted.  Where are you going?  What are you doing?  What are you living for?  You think you have a purpose in life?  LIES!  ALL LIES!!  She flung her pencil towards the other building across the ravine, but it disappeared into the colony instead.

            Yes, dad.  I will go to university so that I can hit the books in my room and not be bothered with your drinking sprees.  Yes, mum.  I will read accountancy like you did so that I will live in regret for giving up my dream like you did.  Yes, my friend.  I will have a decent job at a Big Four and earn loads of money so that I will have a decent future and pay off your debts.  Yes, boss.  I will crunch those numbers day in and day out so that I can make you rich while I lose my sleep. 

            Oh no.  My dear pencil.  My dearest pencil.  She sat down and wept.  However, the dusty rays put their hands on her silky hair, trying to calm her a little.  Yes, thank you, I feel your warmth.  She wiped her tears dry and picked up her drawing pad and charcoal pencil.  No!  Not good enough.  She tore off the page and crushed it, the sketch of the jungle's twilight skyline, letting it rot among the other balls of disappointment behind her.  She had not slept a wink since the previous night, but she was determined to get her work done before anything else.

            She sharpened her charcoal pencil with her penknife.

           

            Yes, dear.  I shouldn't have spent my free time drawing rubbish that you never even bothered to look at.  I should have been cleaning the mess I leave around the house since you are never around.  Yes, dear.  I shouldn't have gone to that expensive exhibition that you will never appreciate and understand.  I should have used the money to buy you those dearer gadgets that I never get to see and touch.  Yes, dear.  I shouldn't have shouted at my boss whom you have never got to face his dumb arrogant face every single working day.  I should have slept with him so that he could give me a pay raise to pay for our housing loan, our school loans, our credit card bills, your travelling sprees...

           

            No, dear.  I do not understand.  What do you mean by you are meeting your friends for my sake?  What do you mean by getting sponsorship contacts for my sake?  No, dear.  I don't get it.  Why are you selling those collectibles that I couldn't even touch when you brought them back from your travels?  What do you mean by raising funds for my sake?  No, dear.  You must be insane!  You are telling me to quit my job because you have... Oh, my, god.  Are you serious?  Are you really serious...  Oh no.  I need more time to dig out my previous work and get new ones out... You also have... what?  The flight is next week?  Our own vacation house?  My oh my...

            She smiled, as she placed her finishing touches to the sketch, two figures holding their hands tight and sitting on the ledge of the building, watching the sunrise from the city's skyline.  She tore off the completed sketch from the drawing pad, took out a lighter, and lit.  She solemnly watched the flames engulf the piece of paper, unlike how she frantically watched the flames swallow the house they were staying a week ago.  He was still inside.

            The wind came by and carried the ashes and her tears to where they wanted to go.

            Finally, she stood up, held on tight to the charcoal pencil and the drawing pad, and stepped off the ledge.

Of pigs, dogs and eastern horses.

My first real attempt to a satire.  Too straightforward for my liking though, but it's a start =)

One fine day on the sunny farm island, the pig was walking along the narrow road when it brushed past a dog that was also walking on the same road.  The dog took offence and glared at the pig, before carry on his way.  The pig, being glared at, became perplexed and vexed.  The more he thought about it, the angrier he got.  Therefore, upon reaching his pig sty, the pig wrote on his microblog:

The most irritating thing that can happen was getting glares from old dogs that you accidentally brush past.  What a dog! =/

Little did the pig expect such a big outcry from the other farm animals, especially from the dogs.

Dog A:  What! He called us dogs?? Someone who is getting the biggest share of food from the farmer is complaining about us being dogs!  How dare he!

Dog B:  What an ingrate.  We shouldn’t have allowed the farmer to give the pigs so much food to eat!  Now they are big and fat, and bullying us all over!

Dog C:  Shame on the pigs.  Shame on the pigs!!!  Burn them on the barbeque. BURN THEM ALL!!!

Dog D:  The pigs get all the food they want without working for it.  We still have to serve as guard dogs for 2 years, only to get so little food from the farmer.  Injustice!

Dog E:  The farmer is importing too many foreign animals into the farm.  This has to be stopped. (Sign petition on the link here)

As a result, the animals were debating on the Farmbook over how this matter should be handled.  The supervising officer of the pig sty, the Orange Lion, tried to appease the animals by assuring that disciplinary action will be taken against the pig in question.  Another pig (whose intention to make his point or sabotage his fellow pig was unknown) made the following comment:  Aiya, he is the Top Pig of the sty.  The lion will not dare to touch him one…

Meanwhile, the horse who lives in the stables on the eastern side of the farm, gave his take on the incident:

I agree that the pig was very rude and arrogant on his comments to the dogs, but perhaps we can learn something out of it and reflect upon ourselves on what the pig has said, rightly or wrongly.  I am sure that the Orange Lion will take necessary steps to prevent such an incident from happening again…

Which drew even more responses:

Dog G:  Stupid horse.  What do you know about our lives?  You get to live in a nice stable with plenty of straw to eat.  You get plenty of exercise when the farmer brings you out for a ride.  How dare you imply that what the pig said was right???

Dog H:  Another ingrate horse.  Defending the pigs instead of speaking out for us, the ones who are working out guts out to feed you horses!!!  Cut the straw! Cut the straw!

Dog I:  Sigh.  Why is it so hard to find a dog that is rational and cool-headed these days… *facepaw*

The pig involved, sensing the gravity of the situation, posted an apology on his microblog hoping to alleviate the situation.  And so the matter ends for now.  Or so it seems.

***

In the farmhouse at the centre of the farm island, the farmer can be seen sharpening his cleaver (of a very famous brand name called GDP), preparing for his next batch of slaughter.

“What’s on the export list today?  Pork or dog meat?”