Since this year's v-day obviously cannot beat Lunar New Year, I thought I just write something to help. It's also been a long time since I last wrote. I like it though.
Happily-Ever-After
Her freckled face masked her age. She looked so young, younger than most of the other women in the room. When she entered, the room quieten, the room turned and followed as she took all eleven steps down into the hall.
The musicians continued to play, the slow melody of the music the only barrier against the silence.
She moved across the room looking at no one else. Her figure cut through the throng of dancers on the floor. Her gaze was transfixed at one thing at the other end, the door to the balcony. As she walked passed, guests start to speak. Most did it in hushed voices. Men asked pervasive questions about her origin, women made superficial comments about how she invaded their territory. All these she could not hear, her cold, hard, beautiful exterior seem to merely deflect all that away from her.
She reached the other side of the room, and the room was now abuzz. The low buzzing of whispers had grown, ever so slightly, with each person she had passed. She reached out for the handle, but stopped short before touching it. She took a long slow breath and felt the cold, hard, steel handle. She pushed it down with what felt like all the strength she had left in her. With the door slightly ajar, she felt the cold wind rush upon her freckles.
The wind seared her insides and she took in the iciness. It made her wonder why she had done this, why she had to endure all the bitter coldness. Where was all the warmth that was promised? When will she feel it? Where was the happy ending to her story?
She pushed the slightly ajar door even harder. The cold wind on the other side pushed back, but she only push harder. She had already endured so much. The wind would not keep her away. She stepped out the door and pulled her shawl around her shoulders. The door gently clicked as it shut behind her and the spell on the room was lifted. Everyone in the room returned to what they had been doing before, seemingly dusted with amnesia.
On the other side of the door, another spell was being cast, one of quiet animosity. She looked around the modestly-sized balcony. The cold thirty-seventh story wind had kept most of the guests inside. Still there was one person, one lone person casting a silhouette against the balcony. She cleared her throat gently, then again, louder to ensure he could hear above the wheezing wind.
The startled man spun round to face her and toppled his glass. His feet were still facing the wrong way as the glass rolled off the parapet. Between righting himself, attempting to save the glass and acting as if everything were planned, he choose to watch his glass roll off into the darkness below and act as if he had everything under control. He spun himself to face her and in the distance the soft sound of breaking glass was heard.
“You’ve managed to come,” the man straightened himself and pulled at his shirt.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
“Not that you don’t usually look any worse…” the man tired to salvage.
The man motioned for her to follow her to the table set out for two. The candle on the table was clearly burnt but strong wind made it impossible for it to remain alight. The only light came from inside the room and it made it seem as if the balcony were under a dark blanket. The darkness hid his facial expressions, his embarrassments. It also hid her reactions, which made reading her practically impossible. But her freckles, darker against the rest of her face, could just be made out, and by the heaving of her cheeks he tried his best to imagine her reactions.
The man started with an attempt to tell her how much he loved her. She sat there emotionless but well hidden in the darkness, she could just as likely been seething with rage. The man then continued with an explanation of why it seems everything was left till now, the last minute. She shifted, but her soft breaths made it sound more likely that she were asleep. The man looked at his watch, the time was near. Efforts needed to be doubled for the plans to come to fruition. Clearly, stalling for time was as natural to him as catching a toppled glass. The man then stopped. He just sat there and waited, confusion seemingly keeping him mum. Nothing was due to happen, not now.
The man started to play with a lighter, letting the flame lick the blade of a small knife. The wind fought to extinguish the flame but the short phases of light allowed her to see his eyes, glazed and concentrated.
Her thoughts tormented her. She knew why she was here. She was here to find out what ‘happily-ever-after’ meant. His silence only furthered confused her. If he had conceded the war to explain, then it might mean that there isn’t even such a thing. She looked at the large clock in the city skyline behind him. The fourteen was ending. There was hardly minutes left, inaction was hardly a fitting way to see out the rest of the day. But confusion had kept her quiet too.
Minutes slipped into the past and the clock from inside the hall chimed as the fourteen ended. She got up. A tad violently and the candle on the table toppled over. The candle rolled towards the edge of the table and fell. But before it could hit the ground, the man caught it and placed it back on the table.
“Please sit. I have more to say,” the man pleaded.
“You had time. Now it’s over,” the woman replied.
“Please…”
But before he could say any more, the woman started walking to the door.
“I know the fourteen was special. But it’s special for so many other people as well. You will find the question and answer you are looking for in the candle. Wait…”
The woman was almost at the door and the man reached for the candle and sliced it neatly at the base with the knife he was burning. Before she could open the door, he pulled her around to face her and held up something in her face. Next to the door, the light from the hall sparkled off a ring crusted in pieces of wax.
“It was due right when the day passed but the wind was giving me a hard time. I hope you wouldn’t,” the man said in one quick breath. “I cannot promise you a happily-ever-after, but I can try.”
If you cannot really read the image above, it's okie. I think the most important thing is still quite visible. This is an email response to my deferment of an army activity. And the subject line is true. I am a free subject.
And here are some random photos.
At first I thought this was a reindeer. Yes, it's actually a dragon.
What wrong with this photo? Well, if here is is less sugar, then it's no longer the "original" joy juice recipe.
And here are some random photos.
At first I thought this was a reindeer. Yes, it's actually a dragon.
What wrong with this photo? Well, if here is is less sugar, then it's no longer the "original" joy juice recipe.
