She didn't cry
She didn't scream
But whispered over and over
It's just a dream, it's just a dream.
Been awhile since I last posted anything here...
Monday, November 5, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Coincidences... or not.
As they passed by housing areas, Corvina saw children playing catch in a small garden, in another, a woman was hanging clothes out to dry; a man hosed down his car, while his dog barked at the passing bus at the gate. The little sounds and images of everyday life brought a calm onto Corvina--to her, the ordinary moments in life, the peace and the calm, were beautiful in a soothing way.
As attuned to the rumbling vibrations and the quiet chatter on the bus as she was, she was fixated on the scenery outside, staring unblinkingly. There was something, she decided, about the looking at everyday scenes from a height--they gave a sense of different perspective, somehow.
"Those flowers for someone special?" Fred the bus driver asked, conversationally. She had been a daily passenger of his for years, and today she had said that it would be the last. The middle-aged lady had always been a quiet, gentle thing--he enjoyed their little chats, and was a little sad to see her go.
Corvina smiled without averting her gaze from the window. "Yes, they are." She was turning to face him when something on the bus caught her eye. She froze.
"Vina?" Fred called, quizzically. "Nothing." Taking out her phone, she snapped a picture of the bus' passengers.
People meet the person they must meet, at the time they must meet that person. The only thing is fate.
And... parting is exactly the same.
The quote whispered in Gabriel's mind hauntingly. He stared blankly, immersed in his own thoughts. Without thinking, he loosened his tie and the motion reminded him yet again about the reality of the fact that he had just attended his uncle's funeral. He looked at the pictures he'd taken on the little screen of his DSLR. A funeral casket. White roses. People dressed in black, expressions just as somber. A plague, Bernard Chanttinton. Uncle Bird. His chest constricted. He thought back onto the day that he received his first camera.
He was seven, and his parents were out of town. Uncle Bird was asked to babysit, and he had taken him to his home. All Gabriel could recall was that it was dark in the house even at noon, and that it was incredibly cluttered. Books, statues, ornaments, clothing were everywhere, and he remembered navigating through the mess tentatively.
His uncle had called for him, impatient. He was in the next room. And when little Gabriel went in, his jaw dropped to the floor. The entire room was filled with photographs--on the walls, covering the floor, heck, even on the ceiling. They were in various sizes, some in frames, some not, others in albums. Colour, black and white, scenery, people, nature, animals, plants. Anything and everything. A portrait painted in oil paint stuck out in the midst of the mess of photos. "Did you paint this, Uncle Bird?" "Yeah." His uncle was rummaging the shelves for something.
Gabriel stared curiously at the portrait. It was of a lady with an air of nobility, her expression regal yet elegant. A smile softened an otherwise stony face. She wore exquisite clothes, and a blue gem on a delicate silver chain winked at her throat. "I didn't know you could paint, Uncle." "It was a one time thing."
"Kid, catch." He had had to crash to the floor, narrowly avoiding the object in his hands from going to pieces. It was an old camera, the type that still used film roles and could only take black and white pictures. Uncle Bird lit a cigarette while he examined it. "It's yours, squirt."
Gabriel blinked big, brilliant green eyes at him. "Thank you, Uncle Bird! But, why?" He titled his head, puzzled. A puff of smoke rose as his uncle shrugged carelessly. "Figured you might like it. Anyway you can go around talking pictures with that junk for the rest of the afternoon. Don't bother me, 'kay? Uncle has work. Shoo."
"It has no film!"
Serafina walked aimlessly around the city streets, her hands in her coat, her crimson hair messy in the wind. She knew she shouldn't be walking out on the streets at this time of night, but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't sleep, couldn't bear to think about what she had lost, or the long days ahead. So she walked. She walked and walked, trying to walk away from reality but couldn't.
It was, ironically, a beautiful night. There was no one about these normally packed streets, and the silence and fresh air soothed her a little. She listened to the sound of her boots padding on ground with a muted thump, her mind blank of any thoughts.
She came to a sudden stop. Somehow, she found herself at the waterfront. Across the river, skyscrapers and other buildings illuminated the night, the light reflected on the calm river. But what made her stop was above--she tilted her head upwards.
The sky was full of stars. Normally, she couldn't see a single one due to the city's polluted air, but a storm had just cleared, revealing clear skies and stars and the sight made her catch her breath.
Stars are the souls of great heroes and wise kings past... of loved ones lost.
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, and Serafina remembered her saying this when she was just a child.
Mom.
Mom.
Mom...
Serafina closed her eyes against the stars, tears falling from closed eyelids and she allowed herself to remember the woman who had given birth to her, loved her, and whom she had lost today.
Maria smiled at the child across from her affectionately. "You're a bright child, Michael." The six year old beamed proudly, his little chest puffed out in pride. He had beaten all his classmates in their exams again. "Mom will be happy, right? She'll praise me, right?" Maria's smile dropped a fraction, recalling something painful from the past, though Michael didn't notice. "Yes, she will. She'll be so proud of you."
She motioned for him to come to her. Holding his little hands in hers, she looked him directly in the eye, and said solemnly, "Michael, I have always loved bright children like you. But you have to remember this. Never use that brightness for your own selfish wishes, nor to hurt other people. Always remember to treat people the way you want to be treated. Remember never to hurt others for any reason, because you will be the one who's hurt in the end. Do you understand?"
Michael nodded solemnly, his bright eyes serious. "Promise me you'll remember this, even after you grow up and leave this kindergarten."
"I promise."
Daniel walked into the jewellery store peering around warily. Although it had a decent reputation, the name The Glimmering One sounded like a ridiculous joke. He eyed the pieces behind glass counters, looking for something suitable.
"May I help you, sir?" A young woman, one of the store clerks smiled at him. "Uh, yes. May I have a look at that?" He indicated the piece he wanted. The clerk handed it to Daniel with a flourish. She smiled appreciatively. "It's a beautiful piece sir. Your girlfriend is lucky to have such a tasteful boyfriend."
He chuckled, turning it over in his hands. It was of good craftsmanship, and the price was reasonable. "Oh no, it's for a friend's wedding."
Decided, Daniel nodded. "I'll take it." He handed her a credit card.
"Great, I'll get your receipt printed out and have it place in a suitable box and wrapped."
He dipped his head. "Thank you..." He read off her name tag,"Serafina."
"You're welcome, sir."
Kirstyn opened the diary and flipped to a random page. She read out loud, "...and there he was, sitting on my seat, playing with my watch, as if he owned the damned thing. He was talking to the girl who sat behind me during exams, completely oblivious to the dagger glare I was aiming at him--" Julia snatched the diary, laughing. "Enough!! Stop reading about my first crush and all my teenage woes."
"Oh, so that's your first crush hey? What's his name?" Kirstyn wriggled her eyebrows, a mischievous grin on her face. She rolled onto her stomach on Julia's bed, hands cupping her cheeks.
"Would you hurry up and help me move the boxes, instead of opening them and nosing into every single thing?" Julia said wryly. Then she laughed. "Besides, what's knowing it for? I'm getting married tomorrow!"
Maria closed the door shut behind her, sighing tiredly. She loved kindergarten kids, but they were extremely tiring. She put her thing down on the floor, then flicked on the lights.
A young man sat lounged on her couch, a gun aimed at her.
"Don't you dare scream. Move away from the door, slowly."
Maria stared, her hand going to her chest, and she clutched the table end for support. Familiar blonde hair, and ocean green eyes. She knew who she faced. "Rafael." She whispered.
His aquamarine eyes flashed. "So you do remember me, my old school teacher." He sneered. "I see you continue to play the role of a teacher, as unqualified as you are. Or have you forgotten? Forgotten that if you had done the right thing, if you had told everyone that the principal's son was bullying me, abusing me, then I wouldn't have been expelled from middle school. I wouldn't have disgust my aunt and uncle, who were already disgusted by my runaway mother and suicidal father enough. They wouldn't have sold me off--"
"I couldn't say it!" Maria burst out. "How could I tell the principal that you were being bullied when you were the one who burned his grandson's books, and vandalized the school with foul words used to describe him and his friends?"
"They deserved it!' Rafael bellowed. "They were the ones who called my father a spineless dick, who said that my mother was whoring herself out on the streets, and called me a bastard every single day."
"It was just verbal abuse, you didn't have to--"
"Just verbal abuse!?" Rafael exploded, and shot up to his feet. "They humiliated me. Belittled me. Crushed whatever pride I had left, as if they were all better than me. They made me a laughing stock, made everyone stay away from me. I had no one, no friends, no real family. All I had were whispers and rumours of whatever atrocious deeds my parents had committed. And I confided in you, my teacher. Only you. And you did nothing. And when I did something to make things right, you turned your back on me."
Tears flowed freely from Maria's eyes, tears of regret. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I assumed the verbal words wouldn't affect such a bright child like you. That you were above it. I'm so, so sorry that I forgot no matter how tough, how mature you appeared, you were still a child. Just a child. And I'm sorry that I didn't try to take you away from your aunt and uncle--I thought that even though they despised you, they still clothed you, fed you. And that that was good enough. But it wasn't. It so, so wasn't. And I'm sorry, so so sorry..."
Rafael's eyes were cold. "I've had enough of your apologies. They don't change a thing." He cocked the gun. "Any last words?"
Maria wiped her tears away, and tried to steady her shaking breaths. "I've failed you once, Rafael. I won't do it again. Don't do this. If I could atone for what I've done--or what I didn't do by my death, I would willingly die for you. But it doesn't, and if you do this you will come to hate yourself."
Rafael laughed, but the laughter was hollow. "As if I don't already hate myself."
Maria's eyes were sad. "Don't do this, Rafael. Turn yourself in for the robbery you committed. You're still considered a junior, and you have solid reasons for stealing--you didn't have a home, didn't have a guardian. We'll make a court appeal. And after, it will be a fresh start, and I'll help you. I'll apply to be your legal guardian, and I'll send you to college. I'll pay for your tuition. You're intelligent, bright, and you'll do well there. I promi--I swear. I swear it, Rafael, I do."
Rafael's finger was on the trigger. "You're lying. I'm being charged on two counts of robbery, two of theft and one of arson. Do you really think they're going to let me off just like that? Things are never that simple, never so easy."
"You're right, they never are. But I swear I'll be there for you." Her voice broke. "Believe me, Rafael. Please believe me."
Serafina sighed. The management was in an uproar since the theft fiasco last week. The thief had stolen 16 of the most expensive pieces they had in store, and somehow they were trying to find someone to blame. She just hoped it wasn't her--she really needed the job to support herself. The manager might be a devil, but at least the pay was good.
"Mommy, which one do you like most?" A child was pointing at their display at the front, excitedly tugging on his mother's sleeve. "Hmm... that one." The mother pointed to a pendant in the shape of a lynx, crafted in burnished silver.
"Then, when I grow up and earn lots and lots of money, I'll buy it for you for Mother's Day, mommy!" The child was all smiles. The mother smiled back. "You're such a sweet boy, Michael."
... Mother's Day, huh.
Julia fidgeted nervously, waiting for her makeup artist to arrive. She tried not rumple her white chiffon and silk dress. She was feeling extremely nervous, like there was a mini-tornado in her stomach. But who didn't feel nervous on the day they were getting married?
"Julia."
Julia whipped her around, startled. "M-Mrs. Dutcmond." Her mother-in-law to-be. She was a regal lady, her posture ever elegant, expression ever severe. Eragon assured her over and over that his mother didn't dislike her, but she had the feeling she wasn't overly fond of her either.
"Just Josephine will do, dear. After all..." She paused. "we are about to become family, are we not?"
Julia hesitated. "Josephine." She tried the words, foreign to her tongue.
This time it was Josephine's turn to hesitate. "I have a gift for you, for celebrating your marrying into my family." She motioned forward a young bridesmaid, who came carrying a black velvet box. In it, was a beautiful dark blue gem, surrounded by tiny diamonds on a thin silver chain. It was absolutely gorgeous. Julia gave a small gasp.
Josephine smiled slightly. "It doesn't fit all the requirements, but... it's something old and something blue." She moved to clasp the chain around Julia's neck.
"It's... it's wonderful." Julia stared at the necklace in the mirror, still stunned by its beauty. "Thank you, Josephine."
"It was given to me by the man who taught me how to love," She said it so softly that Julia almost didn't catch it. There was something in her voice that made Julia think that it wasn't a topic she would care to breach. She nervously babbled as the makeup artist arrived.
"Well, this dress is borrowed so all I need is something new."
Serafina laughed hoarsely when it began to pour. So even the gods were laughing at her. She had just gotten fired, and was now soaking wet, standing still while the crowd around her scrambled for cover.
She tilted her head towards the sky, recalling the night she saw the stars. At least she might have a chance of seeing them again tonight, if it rained hard enough. She sighed, wishing life wouldn't slap her in the face again and again.
Serafina sighed again. She knew she would have to deal with life sooner or later, so she might as well avoid getting sick on top of everything else. Glancing around, she saw that most of the shops were closed, but there was one open for an exhibition of some sort. She ran towards it.
Kirstyn ran hard, arms pumping at her sides, uncaring that she was wearing a dress. She was going to be late for her best friend's wedding if she didn't hurry! She weaved through the throng of people, calling out 'excuse me's all along the way. Suddenly, she ran right smack into a man and almost fell. He reached out and steadied her before she could. "Sorry, are you alright?" The man looked at her with worried green eyes.
She tried to catch her breath. "I'm alright. Not your fault. Rushing. Best friend's wedding." She continued to take deep breaths when she noticed that he had a DSLR hanging from his neck. So that was what that made her feel like someone sucker punched her in the abdomen. She gasped, "Your camera. Did I damage it?"
He blinked and looked down at said camera, holding it up for inspection. "Doesn't look like it."
"Good. Got to go, bye." And she was off like a rocket. He only shook his head, continuing on his way.
Reid brought the youth forward and locked him up in detention. "Hey Lucius, you take care of this one. He just turned himself in. Apparently he's got five charges against him--two theft, two robbery and arson."
Lucius whistled. "And he just... turned himself in?"
Reid shrugged. He didn't need to say that his friend Maria was the one who convinced him to do so. "You figure this one out. I need to get off work early today." "Let me guess, a date?" Lucius said dryly.
"Nope, sister's getting married."
Daniel watched as Julia and Eragon went around greeting friends and family at the reception. They were practically radiating bliss, happiness evident on their faces.
It was quite fun actually, talking to his old schoolmates. They were discussing about whose wedding their were most likely to attend next. He grinned as he absorbed the gossip that they relayed.
"Julia, get over here! We haven't gotten to tease the blushing bride enough yet." Daniel's old classmate hollered. They all laughed as Julia excused herself from some other guests.
"Well that's certainly a way to get my attention," Julia laughed brightly. She smiled as her old schoolmates showered her with compliments and well wishes.
As she chatted excitedly with a couple of her ex-classmates like they were still schoolgirls, Daniel lifted a hand to her auburn hair. He touched the silver hair ornament in her hair, the sliver wires swirling in an elegant pattern, a part of it encrusted with amethysts that formed the shape of a butterfly.
"Still have the habit of touching other people's stuff, I see." Julia addressed Daniel dryly, but her smile was affectionate.
He smiled back. "Well, technical it's mine since I bought it."
"Bought for me, so it's mine." She grinned. "But really, thank you. It's beautiful."
Just then, Kirstyn came barreling into Julia, and she was dragged away by a laughing best friend.
Daniel watched her go, his eyes a little wistful. "You are beautiful." He murmured quietly. Always have been.
As Gabriel arrived at the gallery, he was met by various friends and associates, all congratulating him on his first solo exhibition. He felt a little awkward, not quite sure of how he should conduct himself. He wasn't used to events like this where he was the center of attention--birthdays included. He disliked birthday parties.
Trying to ignore the stares and whispers, he walked around the gallery. It felt surreal to see his own photographs being featured on those white walls. As he walked, he recalled where and when he took each of them.
He cam to a stop at the centerpiece of his exhibition, the print trice the length of a man and as tall as one. As he ran his eyes over it, a single thought cam into his mind.
He wished Uncle Bird was here to see this.
Attending his funeral in the morning and going to my solo exhibition at night. If only he'd quit smoking, then he wouldn't have had lung cancer. Gabriel sighed. It did no good to think about 'if's. But he couldn't help wondering, what would he had said if he was still here? Would he be proud? Would he criticize his work? Before all that, would he even care? This was the man would shot down his belief in Santa when he was just six, after all. The memory caused his lips to rise in a bittersweet smile.
But really, what would you have felt looking at this, Uncle Bernard?
The photo was of the city at night, its multicoloured lights reflected on a calm river. The upper half of the photo was of the sky, which was glimmering, full with stars, vast above the skyscrapers. In the foreground was the waterfront, the pavement a cool cream white, a few dead leaves rustling by.
The focus of the photograph was at the far right--the figure of a young woman, her back towards the viewer. Her head was tilted upwards towards the stars, her billowing bright red hair a startling contrast against the rest of the photo.
Most people told Gabriel that when they saw the photo, somehow, through just the stance of the woman, they could feel all the loneliness and fragility that that back held--as if she was gazing helplessly at the stars, begging them for answers to questions that had none. The whole photograph was such that it broke the hearts of all those who looked at it, for all the loneliness that it symbolized.
At that moment, someone walked into the gallery and stood shock still beholding said photograph. It was the young woman in the photo, soaking wet from head to toe, her expression stunned speechless.
Gabriel blinked at her. "...What a coincidence."
Corvina got off the bus, thanking Fred for the last time. She pulled her cloak more tightly against her, a chilly breeze starting up. She walked into the cemetery, her thoughts everywhere. She moved slowly through the graves, the silence of the site made it serene. There was no one about.
She came to a stop, then laid her white lilies down on her brother's and sister-in-law's joint grave. She gazed at the inscription, trying to think of how to say all the things she wanted to say to them. All the things she wished she had said, wished she had done. Finally, she began in a quiet voice,
"I'm sorry for visiting so late, Colin. And Maeve. It's been eleven years since I ran away, and six since I learned that my only brother and his wife had passed on." She laughed mirthlessly. "Can you believe it? It was three whole years after you had died that I knew you fatal accident had occurred. I ran so hard, so far that I couldn't bear to look back. And when I finally did, I learnt that you had gone somewhere that I can't go." Warm tears dripped on cold marble stone.
"I'm sorry, brother. So sorry. I ran away from everything when I should have stood and faced my problems. I should have known that if I did, you would be there by my side. If I had just told you that my own husband was abusing me, you would have been the first to rescue me. You always were an overprotective, idiot of a brother, even since we were children. I was such a coward. I was afraid, so I ran from my problems. And I was so afraid, that I didn't dare come back to face what I had left behind. My job, you, and my son. I was such a cowardly idiot that I didn't take my only son with me." She traced the inscription on the grave as she spoke. "He probably hates me now."
"It took me this long, but Colin, I'm here now. I don't know if I can ever be forgiven for what I'd done, but here, right now, I swear this on your grave, brother. I swear that I will never run away again. Even if my own son turns away from me, I won't run away. I will take responsibility for my actions now. And... if he will let me, I will be the aunt that my nephew didn't have." Corvina smiled a small smile. "Your son looks just like you, you know. Tall, dark haired, brilliant green eyes. I saw him today, your Gabriel. And also..." She trailed off. "...my son."
She took out her phone, looking at the photograph she took earlier that day. On the bus, among the passengers there was an old schoolteacher, fast asleep, her head against the window; a young lady with bright red hair busily tried to comb it into order; a young man, holding what that looked like a wedding present; Gabriel, staring out the window, one hand over his camera; and finally, her son, with his fair hair, and turquoise eyes. Rafael.
There is no such thing as coincidence; there is only fate.
Corvina trailed her fingertips over Maeve's grave. "You always did like that quote--perhaps it really is fate that I got to see my son and nephew on the same day, after so many years."
*The two quotes about fate at the beginning and at the end are from xxxholic by CLAMP.
As attuned to the rumbling vibrations and the quiet chatter on the bus as she was, she was fixated on the scenery outside, staring unblinkingly. There was something, she decided, about the looking at everyday scenes from a height--they gave a sense of different perspective, somehow.
"Those flowers for someone special?" Fred the bus driver asked, conversationally. She had been a daily passenger of his for years, and today she had said that it would be the last. The middle-aged lady had always been a quiet, gentle thing--he enjoyed their little chats, and was a little sad to see her go.
Corvina smiled without averting her gaze from the window. "Yes, they are." She was turning to face him when something on the bus caught her eye. She froze.
"Vina?" Fred called, quizzically. "Nothing." Taking out her phone, she snapped a picture of the bus' passengers.
People meet the person they must meet, at the time they must meet that person. The only thing is fate.
And... parting is exactly the same.
The quote whispered in Gabriel's mind hauntingly. He stared blankly, immersed in his own thoughts. Without thinking, he loosened his tie and the motion reminded him yet again about the reality of the fact that he had just attended his uncle's funeral. He looked at the pictures he'd taken on the little screen of his DSLR. A funeral casket. White roses. People dressed in black, expressions just as somber. A plague, Bernard Chanttinton. Uncle Bird. His chest constricted. He thought back onto the day that he received his first camera.
He was seven, and his parents were out of town. Uncle Bird was asked to babysit, and he had taken him to his home. All Gabriel could recall was that it was dark in the house even at noon, and that it was incredibly cluttered. Books, statues, ornaments, clothing were everywhere, and he remembered navigating through the mess tentatively.
His uncle had called for him, impatient. He was in the next room. And when little Gabriel went in, his jaw dropped to the floor. The entire room was filled with photographs--on the walls, covering the floor, heck, even on the ceiling. They were in various sizes, some in frames, some not, others in albums. Colour, black and white, scenery, people, nature, animals, plants. Anything and everything. A portrait painted in oil paint stuck out in the midst of the mess of photos. "Did you paint this, Uncle Bird?" "Yeah." His uncle was rummaging the shelves for something.
Gabriel stared curiously at the portrait. It was of a lady with an air of nobility, her expression regal yet elegant. A smile softened an otherwise stony face. She wore exquisite clothes, and a blue gem on a delicate silver chain winked at her throat. "I didn't know you could paint, Uncle." "It was a one time thing."
"Kid, catch." He had had to crash to the floor, narrowly avoiding the object in his hands from going to pieces. It was an old camera, the type that still used film roles and could only take black and white pictures. Uncle Bird lit a cigarette while he examined it. "It's yours, squirt."
Gabriel blinked big, brilliant green eyes at him. "Thank you, Uncle Bird! But, why?" He titled his head, puzzled. A puff of smoke rose as his uncle shrugged carelessly. "Figured you might like it. Anyway you can go around talking pictures with that junk for the rest of the afternoon. Don't bother me, 'kay? Uncle has work. Shoo."
"It has no film!"
Serafina walked aimlessly around the city streets, her hands in her coat, her crimson hair messy in the wind. She knew she shouldn't be walking out on the streets at this time of night, but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't sleep, couldn't bear to think about what she had lost, or the long days ahead. So she walked. She walked and walked, trying to walk away from reality but couldn't.
It was, ironically, a beautiful night. There was no one about these normally packed streets, and the silence and fresh air soothed her a little. She listened to the sound of her boots padding on ground with a muted thump, her mind blank of any thoughts.
She came to a sudden stop. Somehow, she found herself at the waterfront. Across the river, skyscrapers and other buildings illuminated the night, the light reflected on the calm river. But what made her stop was above--she tilted her head upwards.
The sky was full of stars. Normally, she couldn't see a single one due to the city's polluted air, but a storm had just cleared, revealing clear skies and stars and the sight made her catch her breath.
Stars are the souls of great heroes and wise kings past... of loved ones lost.
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, and Serafina remembered her saying this when she was just a child.
Mom.
Mom.
Mom...
Serafina closed her eyes against the stars, tears falling from closed eyelids and she allowed herself to remember the woman who had given birth to her, loved her, and whom she had lost today.
Maria smiled at the child across from her affectionately. "You're a bright child, Michael." The six year old beamed proudly, his little chest puffed out in pride. He had beaten all his classmates in their exams again. "Mom will be happy, right? She'll praise me, right?" Maria's smile dropped a fraction, recalling something painful from the past, though Michael didn't notice. "Yes, she will. She'll be so proud of you."
She motioned for him to come to her. Holding his little hands in hers, she looked him directly in the eye, and said solemnly, "Michael, I have always loved bright children like you. But you have to remember this. Never use that brightness for your own selfish wishes, nor to hurt other people. Always remember to treat people the way you want to be treated. Remember never to hurt others for any reason, because you will be the one who's hurt in the end. Do you understand?"
Michael nodded solemnly, his bright eyes serious. "Promise me you'll remember this, even after you grow up and leave this kindergarten."
"I promise."
Daniel walked into the jewellery store peering around warily. Although it had a decent reputation, the name The Glimmering One sounded like a ridiculous joke. He eyed the pieces behind glass counters, looking for something suitable.
"May I help you, sir?" A young woman, one of the store clerks smiled at him. "Uh, yes. May I have a look at that?" He indicated the piece he wanted. The clerk handed it to Daniel with a flourish. She smiled appreciatively. "It's a beautiful piece sir. Your girlfriend is lucky to have such a tasteful boyfriend."
He chuckled, turning it over in his hands. It was of good craftsmanship, and the price was reasonable. "Oh no, it's for a friend's wedding."
Decided, Daniel nodded. "I'll take it." He handed her a credit card.
"Great, I'll get your receipt printed out and have it place in a suitable box and wrapped."
He dipped his head. "Thank you..." He read off her name tag,"Serafina."
"You're welcome, sir."
Kirstyn opened the diary and flipped to a random page. She read out loud, "...and there he was, sitting on my seat, playing with my watch, as if he owned the damned thing. He was talking to the girl who sat behind me during exams, completely oblivious to the dagger glare I was aiming at him--" Julia snatched the diary, laughing. "Enough!! Stop reading about my first crush and all my teenage woes."
"Oh, so that's your first crush hey? What's his name?" Kirstyn wriggled her eyebrows, a mischievous grin on her face. She rolled onto her stomach on Julia's bed, hands cupping her cheeks.
"Would you hurry up and help me move the boxes, instead of opening them and nosing into every single thing?" Julia said wryly. Then she laughed. "Besides, what's knowing it for? I'm getting married tomorrow!"
Maria closed the door shut behind her, sighing tiredly. She loved kindergarten kids, but they were extremely tiring. She put her thing down on the floor, then flicked on the lights.
A young man sat lounged on her couch, a gun aimed at her.
"Don't you dare scream. Move away from the door, slowly."
Maria stared, her hand going to her chest, and she clutched the table end for support. Familiar blonde hair, and ocean green eyes. She knew who she faced. "Rafael." She whispered.
His aquamarine eyes flashed. "So you do remember me, my old school teacher." He sneered. "I see you continue to play the role of a teacher, as unqualified as you are. Or have you forgotten? Forgotten that if you had done the right thing, if you had told everyone that the principal's son was bullying me, abusing me, then I wouldn't have been expelled from middle school. I wouldn't have disgust my aunt and uncle, who were already disgusted by my runaway mother and suicidal father enough. They wouldn't have sold me off--"
"I couldn't say it!" Maria burst out. "How could I tell the principal that you were being bullied when you were the one who burned his grandson's books, and vandalized the school with foul words used to describe him and his friends?"
"They deserved it!' Rafael bellowed. "They were the ones who called my father a spineless dick, who said that my mother was whoring herself out on the streets, and called me a bastard every single day."
"It was just verbal abuse, you didn't have to--"
"Just verbal abuse!?" Rafael exploded, and shot up to his feet. "They humiliated me. Belittled me. Crushed whatever pride I had left, as if they were all better than me. They made me a laughing stock, made everyone stay away from me. I had no one, no friends, no real family. All I had were whispers and rumours of whatever atrocious deeds my parents had committed. And I confided in you, my teacher. Only you. And you did nothing. And when I did something to make things right, you turned your back on me."
Tears flowed freely from Maria's eyes, tears of regret. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I assumed the verbal words wouldn't affect such a bright child like you. That you were above it. I'm so, so sorry that I forgot no matter how tough, how mature you appeared, you were still a child. Just a child. And I'm sorry that I didn't try to take you away from your aunt and uncle--I thought that even though they despised you, they still clothed you, fed you. And that that was good enough. But it wasn't. It so, so wasn't. And I'm sorry, so so sorry..."
Rafael's eyes were cold. "I've had enough of your apologies. They don't change a thing." He cocked the gun. "Any last words?"
Maria wiped her tears away, and tried to steady her shaking breaths. "I've failed you once, Rafael. I won't do it again. Don't do this. If I could atone for what I've done--or what I didn't do by my death, I would willingly die for you. But it doesn't, and if you do this you will come to hate yourself."
Rafael laughed, but the laughter was hollow. "As if I don't already hate myself."
Maria's eyes were sad. "Don't do this, Rafael. Turn yourself in for the robbery you committed. You're still considered a junior, and you have solid reasons for stealing--you didn't have a home, didn't have a guardian. We'll make a court appeal. And after, it will be a fresh start, and I'll help you. I'll apply to be your legal guardian, and I'll send you to college. I'll pay for your tuition. You're intelligent, bright, and you'll do well there. I promi--I swear. I swear it, Rafael, I do."
Rafael's finger was on the trigger. "You're lying. I'm being charged on two counts of robbery, two of theft and one of arson. Do you really think they're going to let me off just like that? Things are never that simple, never so easy."
"You're right, they never are. But I swear I'll be there for you." Her voice broke. "Believe me, Rafael. Please believe me."
Serafina sighed. The management was in an uproar since the theft fiasco last week. The thief had stolen 16 of the most expensive pieces they had in store, and somehow they were trying to find someone to blame. She just hoped it wasn't her--she really needed the job to support herself. The manager might be a devil, but at least the pay was good.
"Mommy, which one do you like most?" A child was pointing at their display at the front, excitedly tugging on his mother's sleeve. "Hmm... that one." The mother pointed to a pendant in the shape of a lynx, crafted in burnished silver.
"Then, when I grow up and earn lots and lots of money, I'll buy it for you for Mother's Day, mommy!" The child was all smiles. The mother smiled back. "You're such a sweet boy, Michael."
... Mother's Day, huh.
Julia fidgeted nervously, waiting for her makeup artist to arrive. She tried not rumple her white chiffon and silk dress. She was feeling extremely nervous, like there was a mini-tornado in her stomach. But who didn't feel nervous on the day they were getting married?
"Julia."
Julia whipped her around, startled. "M-Mrs. Dutcmond." Her mother-in-law to-be. She was a regal lady, her posture ever elegant, expression ever severe. Eragon assured her over and over that his mother didn't dislike her, but she had the feeling she wasn't overly fond of her either.
"Just Josephine will do, dear. After all..." She paused. "we are about to become family, are we not?"
Julia hesitated. "Josephine." She tried the words, foreign to her tongue.
This time it was Josephine's turn to hesitate. "I have a gift for you, for celebrating your marrying into my family." She motioned forward a young bridesmaid, who came carrying a black velvet box. In it, was a beautiful dark blue gem, surrounded by tiny diamonds on a thin silver chain. It was absolutely gorgeous. Julia gave a small gasp.
Josephine smiled slightly. "It doesn't fit all the requirements, but... it's something old and something blue." She moved to clasp the chain around Julia's neck.
"It's... it's wonderful." Julia stared at the necklace in the mirror, still stunned by its beauty. "Thank you, Josephine."
"It was given to me by the man who taught me how to love," She said it so softly that Julia almost didn't catch it. There was something in her voice that made Julia think that it wasn't a topic she would care to breach. She nervously babbled as the makeup artist arrived.
"Well, this dress is borrowed so all I need is something new."
Serafina laughed hoarsely when it began to pour. So even the gods were laughing at her. She had just gotten fired, and was now soaking wet, standing still while the crowd around her scrambled for cover.
She tilted her head towards the sky, recalling the night she saw the stars. At least she might have a chance of seeing them again tonight, if it rained hard enough. She sighed, wishing life wouldn't slap her in the face again and again.
Serafina sighed again. She knew she would have to deal with life sooner or later, so she might as well avoid getting sick on top of everything else. Glancing around, she saw that most of the shops were closed, but there was one open for an exhibition of some sort. She ran towards it.
Kirstyn ran hard, arms pumping at her sides, uncaring that she was wearing a dress. She was going to be late for her best friend's wedding if she didn't hurry! She weaved through the throng of people, calling out 'excuse me's all along the way. Suddenly, she ran right smack into a man and almost fell. He reached out and steadied her before she could. "Sorry, are you alright?" The man looked at her with worried green eyes.
She tried to catch her breath. "I'm alright. Not your fault. Rushing. Best friend's wedding." She continued to take deep breaths when she noticed that he had a DSLR hanging from his neck. So that was what that made her feel like someone sucker punched her in the abdomen. She gasped, "Your camera. Did I damage it?"
He blinked and looked down at said camera, holding it up for inspection. "Doesn't look like it."
"Good. Got to go, bye." And she was off like a rocket. He only shook his head, continuing on his way.
Reid brought the youth forward and locked him up in detention. "Hey Lucius, you take care of this one. He just turned himself in. Apparently he's got five charges against him--two theft, two robbery and arson."
Lucius whistled. "And he just... turned himself in?"
Reid shrugged. He didn't need to say that his friend Maria was the one who convinced him to do so. "You figure this one out. I need to get off work early today." "Let me guess, a date?" Lucius said dryly.
"Nope, sister's getting married."
Daniel watched as Julia and Eragon went around greeting friends and family at the reception. They were practically radiating bliss, happiness evident on their faces.
It was quite fun actually, talking to his old schoolmates. They were discussing about whose wedding their were most likely to attend next. He grinned as he absorbed the gossip that they relayed.
"Julia, get over here! We haven't gotten to tease the blushing bride enough yet." Daniel's old classmate hollered. They all laughed as Julia excused herself from some other guests.
"Well that's certainly a way to get my attention," Julia laughed brightly. She smiled as her old schoolmates showered her with compliments and well wishes.
As she chatted excitedly with a couple of her ex-classmates like they were still schoolgirls, Daniel lifted a hand to her auburn hair. He touched the silver hair ornament in her hair, the sliver wires swirling in an elegant pattern, a part of it encrusted with amethysts that formed the shape of a butterfly.
"Still have the habit of touching other people's stuff, I see." Julia addressed Daniel dryly, but her smile was affectionate.
He smiled back. "Well, technical it's mine since I bought it."
"Bought for me, so it's mine." She grinned. "But really, thank you. It's beautiful."
Just then, Kirstyn came barreling into Julia, and she was dragged away by a laughing best friend.
Daniel watched her go, his eyes a little wistful. "You are beautiful." He murmured quietly. Always have been.
As Gabriel arrived at the gallery, he was met by various friends and associates, all congratulating him on his first solo exhibition. He felt a little awkward, not quite sure of how he should conduct himself. He wasn't used to events like this where he was the center of attention--birthdays included. He disliked birthday parties.
Trying to ignore the stares and whispers, he walked around the gallery. It felt surreal to see his own photographs being featured on those white walls. As he walked, he recalled where and when he took each of them.
He cam to a stop at the centerpiece of his exhibition, the print trice the length of a man and as tall as one. As he ran his eyes over it, a single thought cam into his mind.
He wished Uncle Bird was here to see this.
Attending his funeral in the morning and going to my solo exhibition at night. If only he'd quit smoking, then he wouldn't have had lung cancer. Gabriel sighed. It did no good to think about 'if's. But he couldn't help wondering, what would he had said if he was still here? Would he be proud? Would he criticize his work? Before all that, would he even care? This was the man would shot down his belief in Santa when he was just six, after all. The memory caused his lips to rise in a bittersweet smile.
But really, what would you have felt looking at this, Uncle Bernard?
The photo was of the city at night, its multicoloured lights reflected on a calm river. The upper half of the photo was of the sky, which was glimmering, full with stars, vast above the skyscrapers. In the foreground was the waterfront, the pavement a cool cream white, a few dead leaves rustling by.
The focus of the photograph was at the far right--the figure of a young woman, her back towards the viewer. Her head was tilted upwards towards the stars, her billowing bright red hair a startling contrast against the rest of the photo.
Most people told Gabriel that when they saw the photo, somehow, through just the stance of the woman, they could feel all the loneliness and fragility that that back held--as if she was gazing helplessly at the stars, begging them for answers to questions that had none. The whole photograph was such that it broke the hearts of all those who looked at it, for all the loneliness that it symbolized.
At that moment, someone walked into the gallery and stood shock still beholding said photograph. It was the young woman in the photo, soaking wet from head to toe, her expression stunned speechless.
Gabriel blinked at her. "...What a coincidence."
Corvina got off the bus, thanking Fred for the last time. She pulled her cloak more tightly against her, a chilly breeze starting up. She walked into the cemetery, her thoughts everywhere. She moved slowly through the graves, the silence of the site made it serene. There was no one about.
She came to a stop, then laid her white lilies down on her brother's and sister-in-law's joint grave. She gazed at the inscription, trying to think of how to say all the things she wanted to say to them. All the things she wished she had said, wished she had done. Finally, she began in a quiet voice,
"I'm sorry for visiting so late, Colin. And Maeve. It's been eleven years since I ran away, and six since I learned that my only brother and his wife had passed on." She laughed mirthlessly. "Can you believe it? It was three whole years after you had died that I knew you fatal accident had occurred. I ran so hard, so far that I couldn't bear to look back. And when I finally did, I learnt that you had gone somewhere that I can't go." Warm tears dripped on cold marble stone.
"I'm sorry, brother. So sorry. I ran away from everything when I should have stood and faced my problems. I should have known that if I did, you would be there by my side. If I had just told you that my own husband was abusing me, you would have been the first to rescue me. You always were an overprotective, idiot of a brother, even since we were children. I was such a coward. I was afraid, so I ran from my problems. And I was so afraid, that I didn't dare come back to face what I had left behind. My job, you, and my son. I was such a cowardly idiot that I didn't take my only son with me." She traced the inscription on the grave as she spoke. "He probably hates me now."
"It took me this long, but Colin, I'm here now. I don't know if I can ever be forgiven for what I'd done, but here, right now, I swear this on your grave, brother. I swear that I will never run away again. Even if my own son turns away from me, I won't run away. I will take responsibility for my actions now. And... if he will let me, I will be the aunt that my nephew didn't have." Corvina smiled a small smile. "Your son looks just like you, you know. Tall, dark haired, brilliant green eyes. I saw him today, your Gabriel. And also..." She trailed off. "...my son."
She took out her phone, looking at the photograph she took earlier that day. On the bus, among the passengers there was an old schoolteacher, fast asleep, her head against the window; a young lady with bright red hair busily tried to comb it into order; a young man, holding what that looked like a wedding present; Gabriel, staring out the window, one hand over his camera; and finally, her son, with his fair hair, and turquoise eyes. Rafael.
There is no such thing as coincidence; there is only fate.
Corvina trailed her fingertips over Maeve's grave. "You always did like that quote--perhaps it really is fate that I got to see my son and nephew on the same day, after so many years."
*The two quotes about fate at the beginning and at the end are from xxxholic by CLAMP.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
菊花台 (Chrysanthemum Stage) Lyrics and Eng Translation
菊花台
词：方文山 曲：周杰伦
你的淚光 柔弱中帶傷
慘白的月彎彎勾住過往
夜太漫長 凝結成了霜
是誰在閣樓上冰冷的絕望
雨輕輕彈 朱紅色的窗
我一生在紙上被風吹亂
夢在遠方 化成一縷香
隨風飄散你的模樣
菊花殘滿地傷 你的笑容已泛黃
花落人斷腸 我心事靜靜躺
北風亂夜未央 你的影子剪不斷
徒留我孤單 在湖面成雙
花已向晚 飄落了燦爛
凋謝的世道上命運不堪
愁莫渡江 秋心拆兩半
怕你上不了岸一輩子搖晃
誰的江山 馬蹄聲狂亂
我一身的戎裝呼嘯滄桑
天微微亮 你輕聲的嘆
一夜惆悵如此委婉
菊花殘滿地傷 你的笑容已泛黃
花落人斷腸 我心事靜靜躺
北風亂夜未央 你的影子剪不斷
徒留我孤單 在湖面成雙
菊花殘滿地傷 你的笑容已泛黃
花落人斷腸 我心事靜靜躺
北風亂夜未央 你的影子剪不斷
徒留我孤單 在湖面成雙
Chrysanthemum Stage
by Jay Chou(Singer) and Vincent Fang (Lyricist)
Your tears glisten, in gentleness carries pain
The pale crescent moon hangs in the past
The night is too long, and it turns to frost
Who is it that is on the tower, frozen in despair?
The rain drums lightly, on a crimson pane
My entire life is written on paper, turned chaotic by the wind
The dream is distant, morphing into incense
Drifting with the wind; your image
Chrysanthemum blossoms fall, weeping to the ground
Your smile has yellowed (on a scroll)
Petals fall people break, my troubles quietly rest
Northern wind blows dawn has not come, your shadow cannot be cut
Leaving me lonely, on a lake split in two
Blossoms already turn to the evening, drifting down their glory
On the withered path fate is unbearable
Frustration, cross not the river; your autumn heart will split in two
For fear you will not reach the other shore, forever wavering
Whose hills and rivers, echo with the clamor of hooves?
My entire body's armor whistle vicissitudes (changing phases)
The sky slowly brightens, you so softly sigh
A night's melancholy thus expressed tactfully
词：方文山 曲：周杰伦
你的淚光 柔弱中帶傷
慘白的月彎彎勾住過往
夜太漫長 凝結成了霜
是誰在閣樓上冰冷的絕望
雨輕輕彈 朱紅色的窗
我一生在紙上被風吹亂
夢在遠方 化成一縷香
隨風飄散你的模樣
菊花殘滿地傷 你的笑容已泛黃
花落人斷腸 我心事靜靜躺
北風亂夜未央 你的影子剪不斷
徒留我孤單 在湖面成雙
花已向晚 飄落了燦爛
凋謝的世道上命運不堪
愁莫渡江 秋心拆兩半
怕你上不了岸一輩子搖晃
誰的江山 馬蹄聲狂亂
我一身的戎裝呼嘯滄桑
天微微亮 你輕聲的嘆
一夜惆悵如此委婉
菊花殘滿地傷 你的笑容已泛黃
花落人斷腸 我心事靜靜躺
北風亂夜未央 你的影子剪不斷
徒留我孤單 在湖面成雙
菊花殘滿地傷 你的笑容已泛黃
花落人斷腸 我心事靜靜躺
北風亂夜未央 你的影子剪不斷
徒留我孤單 在湖面成雙
Chrysanthemum Stage
by Jay Chou(Singer) and Vincent Fang (Lyricist)
Your tears glisten, in gentleness carries pain
The pale crescent moon hangs in the past
The night is too long, and it turns to frost
Who is it that is on the tower, frozen in despair?
The rain drums lightly, on a crimson pane
My entire life is written on paper, turned chaotic by the wind
The dream is distant, morphing into incense
Drifting with the wind; your image
Chrysanthemum blossoms fall, weeping to the ground
Your smile has yellowed (on a scroll)
Petals fall people break, my troubles quietly rest
Northern wind blows dawn has not come, your shadow cannot be cut
Leaving me lonely, on a lake split in two
Blossoms already turn to the evening, drifting down their glory
On the withered path fate is unbearable
Frustration, cross not the river; your autumn heart will split in two
For fear you will not reach the other shore, forever wavering
Whose hills and rivers, echo with the clamor of hooves?
My entire body's armor whistle vicissitudes (changing phases)
The sky slowly brightens, you so softly sigh
A night's melancholy thus expressed tactfully
青花瓷 (Blue and White Porcelain) Lyrics and Eng translate
This is not a work of fiction, but it is something I want to share =)
青花瓷
词：方文山 曲：周杰伦
素胚勾勒出青花 笔锋浓转淡
瓶身描绘的牡丹一如你初妆
冉冉檀香透过窗心事我了然
宣纸上走笔自此搁一半
釉色渲染仕女图韵味被私藏
而你嫣然的一笑如含苞待放
你的美一缕飘散
去到我去不了的地方
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
炊烟袅袅升起 隔江千万里
在瓶底书汉隶仿前朝的飘逸
就当我为 遇见你伏笔
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
月色被打捞起 晕开了结局
如传世的青花瓷自顾自美丽
你眼带笑意
色白花青的锦鲤跃然于碗底
临摹宋体落款时却惦记着你
你隐藏在窑烧里千年的秘密
极细腻犹如绣花针落地
帘外芭蕉惹骤雨 门环惹铜绿
而我路过那江南小镇惹了你
泼墨的山水画里
你从墨色深处被隐去
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
炊烟袅袅升起 隔江千万里
在瓶底书汉隶仿前朝的飘逸
就当我为 遇见你伏笔
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
月色被打捞起 晕开了结局
如传世的青花瓷自顾自美丽
你眼带笑意
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
炊烟袅袅升起 隔江千万里
在瓶底书汉隶仿前朝的飘逸
就当我为 遇见你伏笔
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
月色被打捞起 晕开了结局
如传世的青花瓷自顾自美丽
你眼带笑意
Blue and White Porcelain
by Jay Chou(Singer) and Vincent Fang (Lyricist)
On kaolin the brush outlines a blue pattern, the dark strokes turn lighter;
On the vase the depicted peony is like your first appearance.
The lingering scent of sandalwood pass through the window—(your) troubles I understand clearly;
On rice paper the moving pen ‘till this point stops at a half.
Glazing of a lady’s portrait renders her charm to be selfishly hidden;
And your belladonna smile is like a budding flower (holding a promise of beauty).
Your beauty, a wisp of drift;
Dissipates to a place I cannot reach.
Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
Smoke curls upwards, across the river a thousand miles away.
Beneath the vase my Han calligraphy imitates the elegance of the former dynasty;
Treat it as my foreshadowing of meeting you.
Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
The ripples of reflected moonlight smudged away our ending.
Like the handed down porcelain obsessed with its own beauty;
Your eyes hold intent of laughing.
Porcelain blue carps seem to come alive at the bottom of the bowl;
While practicing the Song calligraphy however I think of you.
You hid in the kiln a thousand years’ secret;
Very delicately, like how an embroidery needle descends.
Beyond the screen the Basho plant brings forth sudden downpour, the door knocker brings forth copper green rust;
And my passing by the small towns in Jiangnan brings forth you.
In the splash-ink landscape painting;
You fade into the ink-coloured deep abyss.
*Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
Smoke curls upwards, across the river a thousand miles away.
Beneath the vase my Han calligraphy imitates the elegance of the former dynasty;
Treat it as my foreshadowing of meeting you.
Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
The salvaged moonlight smudged away our ending.
Like the handed down porcelain obsessed with its own beauty;
Your eyes hold intent of laughing.*
* Repeat
青花瓷
词：方文山 曲：周杰伦
素胚勾勒出青花 笔锋浓转淡
瓶身描绘的牡丹一如你初妆
冉冉檀香透过窗心事我了然
宣纸上走笔自此搁一半
釉色渲染仕女图韵味被私藏
而你嫣然的一笑如含苞待放
你的美一缕飘散
去到我去不了的地方
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
炊烟袅袅升起 隔江千万里
在瓶底书汉隶仿前朝的飘逸
就当我为 遇见你伏笔
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
月色被打捞起 晕开了结局
如传世的青花瓷自顾自美丽
你眼带笑意
色白花青的锦鲤跃然于碗底
临摹宋体落款时却惦记着你
你隐藏在窑烧里千年的秘密
极细腻犹如绣花针落地
帘外芭蕉惹骤雨 门环惹铜绿
而我路过那江南小镇惹了你
泼墨的山水画里
你从墨色深处被隐去
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
炊烟袅袅升起 隔江千万里
在瓶底书汉隶仿前朝的飘逸
就当我为 遇见你伏笔
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
月色被打捞起 晕开了结局
如传世的青花瓷自顾自美丽
你眼带笑意
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
炊烟袅袅升起 隔江千万里
在瓶底书汉隶仿前朝的飘逸
就当我为 遇见你伏笔
天青色等烟雨 而我在等你
月色被打捞起 晕开了结局
如传世的青花瓷自顾自美丽
你眼带笑意
Blue and White Porcelain
by Jay Chou(Singer) and Vincent Fang (Lyricist)
On kaolin the brush outlines a blue pattern, the dark strokes turn lighter;
On the vase the depicted peony is like your first appearance.
The lingering scent of sandalwood pass through the window—(your) troubles I understand clearly;
On rice paper the moving pen ‘till this point stops at a half.
Glazing of a lady’s portrait renders her charm to be selfishly hidden;
And your belladonna smile is like a budding flower (holding a promise of beauty).
Your beauty, a wisp of drift;
Dissipates to a place I cannot reach.
Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
Smoke curls upwards, across the river a thousand miles away.
Beneath the vase my Han calligraphy imitates the elegance of the former dynasty;
Treat it as my foreshadowing of meeting you.
Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
The ripples of reflected moonlight smudged away our ending.
Like the handed down porcelain obsessed with its own beauty;
Your eyes hold intent of laughing.
Porcelain blue carps seem to come alive at the bottom of the bowl;
While practicing the Song calligraphy however I think of you.
You hid in the kiln a thousand years’ secret;
Very delicately, like how an embroidery needle descends.
Beyond the screen the Basho plant brings forth sudden downpour, the door knocker brings forth copper green rust;
And my passing by the small towns in Jiangnan brings forth you.
In the splash-ink landscape painting;
You fade into the ink-coloured deep abyss.
*Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
Smoke curls upwards, across the river a thousand miles away.
Beneath the vase my Han calligraphy imitates the elegance of the former dynasty;
Treat it as my foreshadowing of meeting you.
Perfect shade of porcelain blue awaits the rainy day, as how I wait for only you;
The salvaged moonlight smudged away our ending.
Like the handed down porcelain obsessed with its own beauty;
Your eyes hold intent of laughing.*
* Repeat
Friday, March 23, 2012
A Friend Indeed
'Look at what you got us into again,'
He could almost hear the chiding, exasperated yet completely resigned tone of her voice.
'You know you almost got us killed, don't you?'
He thought of how he always just gave Mira a lopsided grin at that; but how those words now turned into burning chains that coiled around his heart, eating their way in, leaving nothing but black ashes behind.
Even as he stared now, as the blood pour out from her torso, as her entire body screamed out in agony for that final time, as he looked into familiar eyes with an unfamiliar desperation. In those last seconds, her thoughts were not for herself, but for him. And in that stretched out moment of time, he could see her lips moving ever so slightly, and that last word, just for him.
Run.
Years and years of loyal friendship, as they stood by each other's side, as she stood by him, even after they had their own romances with others--all those years--and this was how it ended. How he repaid her.
His scream tore out of his body in such a way that he wished it would just rip him apart.
He could almost hear the chiding, exasperated yet completely resigned tone of her voice.
'You know you almost got us killed, don't you?'
He thought of how he always just gave Mira a lopsided grin at that; but how those words now turned into burning chains that coiled around his heart, eating their way in, leaving nothing but black ashes behind.
Even as he stared now, as the blood pour out from her torso, as her entire body screamed out in agony for that final time, as he looked into familiar eyes with an unfamiliar desperation. In those last seconds, her thoughts were not for herself, but for him. And in that stretched out moment of time, he could see her lips moving ever so slightly, and that last word, just for him.
Run.
Years and years of loyal friendship, as they stood by each other's side, as she stood by him, even after they had their own romances with others--all those years--and this was how it ended. How he repaid her.
His scream tore out of his body in such a way that he wished it would just rip him apart.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Martians vs Humans
So one day, Darren, Will and I were sitting in a cafe. And Will, being the comic geek he is had his nose buried in the latest edition of his aptly named comic book--Martians.
Darren had just broken up with his girlfriend, and therefore was going through his break-up ritual of being a depressing piece of ass for three days. It was the second day, I think. In conclusion, I was super damn bored. I was in the mood for some alien-related banter, since that was a wee bit better than sitting there with nothing to do, so I turned to Will and said, "I still don't think Martians exist, Will." Then I braced myself.
Will did not disappoint.
"Oh yeah? And you think you know it all, don't ya? You think those scientists and presidents tell anything but lies on the TV? Come on, humans should know better than to think that they are the only inhabitants of this universe. Do you even know how infinitely large it is? Do you? Do you? Exactly! You don't. We humans think we're so intelligent and all that, what with creating jukeboxes and cassette players--"
"Will, cassette players were decades ago--"
"--but you know what? Aliens have created things that we can't even dream of. They probably even know that we're talking about them right this instant. They're that awesome, and yet everyone around us are like 'What? Aliens? Pfft, even if they exist they're dumb and small and green and totally beneath us'--"
"You should probably change that to 'everyone around me'--"
"And you know what I think? I think if they were to describe humans, they would say 'Humans? You mean those silly, puffed up, ignorant creatures?'"
"...You know that you just included you and I in that one, right?"
Darren had just broken up with his girlfriend, and therefore was going through his break-up ritual of being a depressing piece of ass for three days. It was the second day, I think. In conclusion, I was super damn bored. I was in the mood for some alien-related banter, since that was a wee bit better than sitting there with nothing to do, so I turned to Will and said, "I still don't think Martians exist, Will." Then I braced myself.
Will did not disappoint.
"Oh yeah? And you think you know it all, don't ya? You think those scientists and presidents tell anything but lies on the TV? Come on, humans should know better than to think that they are the only inhabitants of this universe. Do you even know how infinitely large it is? Do you? Do you? Exactly! You don't. We humans think we're so intelligent and all that, what with creating jukeboxes and cassette players--"
"Will, cassette players were decades ago--"
"--but you know what? Aliens have created things that we can't even dream of. They probably even know that we're talking about them right this instant. They're that awesome, and yet everyone around us are like 'What? Aliens? Pfft, even if they exist they're dumb and small and green and totally beneath us'--"
"You should probably change that to 'everyone around me'--"
"And you know what I think? I think if they were to describe humans, they would say 'Humans? You mean those silly, puffed up, ignorant creatures?'"
"...You know that you just included you and I in that one, right?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)