There was a loud bang at the door, followed by a muffled curse. Silence, and then the jingling of keys, muted as it were, should you happen to be listening to keys jingling from behind an inch-think wooden door.
The smooth grating of the metal key into the metal tumbler of the lock in the inch-think wooden door could be heard from within the house. But there was no one in the house to hear it, not even animals, unless you count Benji the stuffed sparrow.
Benji was a present 10 years ago from old Uncle Stuart, who used to love to hunt innocent animals in far off continents. His nephew (who was trying his best to open the door) thought he would still enjoy the occasional hunt, if he was not too busy lying in his coffin six feet under the ground over at the church across the street.
The lock slammed, and the door was flung open, as if the person who did it was in a great haste. Benji stared at the door from his perch in the corridor of the apartment. It was a good perch, for it afforded Benji a view of almost every corner of the apartment, save the room that was behind it. Were Benji still alive, it would have been curious as to what the room behind him was. In fact, it would have simply turned around and looked in.
But then again, if it could have done that, Benji was sure it would have simply opted to fly out of this dusty apartment and try to find some way back to its nest. Its mate was waiting for it, you know. The pair was busy building their nest, when some inconsiderate Human (Uncle Stuart, Benji believed), shot a tranquillizer dart into its hide. Benji fell asleep with dreams of having a dozen little sparrows with its mate.
But those dreams were not to be. Now Benji's body was stuck up on the wall of a corridor, its wings, head, and beak covered in a thin layer of dust.
The Human stumbled into the house, arms laden with bags from the local super mart. With a sigh that indicated that this Human was not having a good day, and that if anything else went wrong, he would scream, much like a girl would; only manlier.
Nudging the door close with his bottom (the Human always thought his bottom was too scrawny), the Human shuffled the five feet that separated him from the kitchen. Once there, he set the bags on the floor before shuffling back to the door and closing it.
Somewhat calmed, the Human set about unpacking the things from the bags into the cupboards in the kitchen, humming a chirpy tune.
The chirpy tune died a few minutes later, when the Human, whose name was Dean, by the way, stood up and surveyed his surroundings.
If he was whistling, the note that he'd be whistling would be a monotonic 'B Minor'.
The area in front of the front door, where he kept a shoe cupboard, was littered with shoes, flip-flops, sandals, and other footwear that he'd left lying around. Less than two feet from the mess was his six-foot long fish tank. Interestingly enough, the tank held no fish. In fact it did not even hold any water at the moment. What it did hold, however, was sand. Five full kilos of it. The tank sprang a leak the year previous, and Dean could not be bothered to fix it.
The living room and dining area were fairly clean, based on the fact that he hardly spent any time there at all.
The kitchen was another story. Dirty dishes lay in the sink, piles of laundry lay stacked up in front of the washing machine, the wok and pots sat on the stove, in a bad need of a wash.
Dean sighed and threw his hands in the air. He decided that he'd hire a part-time domestic helper to clean up this mess. With that settled, he trudged off towards his room, wanting a bath.
Five minutes later, lying in a tub full of warm water and foamy bubbles, Dean sighed (again) and contemplated his life thus far.
He had it pretty good, compared to other people his age. At a score and two years old (that's twenty-two), he had his own five-room apartment on the east side of sunny (and sometimes wet) Singapore, for which he did not have to pay a single cent, for it was fully paid for already. He had his own car; a snazzy Ferrari Enzo, freshly minted. And he had a steady stream of cash with…
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
The Adventures of Gwen!
The water bomb hit the hood of the car a full second after the egg did, and the ensuring curses from the car’s owner –a full thirteen stories below them– sent the two girls into peals of laughter.
Gwen shifted her weight from foot to foot; impatient as the elevator took it’s time…elevating… to her floor. Her hand phone started to vibrate from within her pocket. It was a text message from Vincent. She grinned to herself. What perfect timing. She twirled her thumbs before typing out her reply in a flurry and punching the ‘send’ button. And just at that moment the elevator doors give off its annoying beep and opened.
Everything’s working like clockwork. Must be my lucky day. Should I try to buy Toto? I’m sure Vince can spare a few dollars change.
The elevator doors opened again on the seventh floor, and Gwen headed towards one end of the HDB block. She’d only met this Vincent at his place once before, but the route to his unit was easy to remember. Besides, He lived six stories directly below Stacy. She giggled again. If only they knew.
Gwen reached his front door and started pounding on it.
“Hoi! Vince! Open up! Before your ugly blue door gets smashed in!” There was a yell from within that sounded more like a squeak, and sounds of unsteady hands fumbling to get a key into a lock.
“Are you crazy, woman? Wa lau, if my neighbors hear that they’ll think you were some loan shark leh. I got a bloody reputation to keep you know?”
“Which reputation? The one where you sleep with sixteen year old girls?”
“Shut up! Besides, it’s legal, what. And you’re not sixteen, so what’re you complaining about?”
“I’m not complaining about anything. I’m just in a good mood today. So are you going to let me in, not? Or are we going to do it here?”
“Err, Gwen, are you ok? We can always put this off until another time…Ok, ok, Stop staring at me like that.”
Gwen stepped inside the door and made a bee-line for Vincent’s bedroom. The latter was left standing at the front door muttering to himself about how sometimes, getting laid was just not worth it.
Stepping into his bedroom, he found Gwen already half naked and in his bed.
“Gee Gwen, I didn’t know you were so eager to see me… What’s going on man?”
“Nothing, it’s just your lucky day. I’m in a really good mood today.”
“Ho? I guess we should make full use of it then!” And with that, the both of them disappeared under the sheets and the only thing a casual observer would have heard was the constant rhythmic creaking of Vincent’s wooden bed frame.
Over an hour and score minutes later, that same casual observer would have heard groans and squeals of the couple within the room. That, and the ringing of Gwen’s hand phone.
“Oh shit, it’s Stacey!” Gwen shoved Vincent unceremoniously off her and scrambled across the bed to get to her jeans.
“Who’s Stacey?”
“My best friend…Now shh! Stacey? Hey! Erm, no, I’m still wandering around Jurong Central…”
“Ah, best friend, you think she would–”
“She’s a lesbian, now Shh! So sorry Stacey honey, I’ll be back as fast as I can, ya? Ok, Bye!” Gwen tossed her hand phone aside and brushed a lock of shoulder length hair out of her face. Hair that was dyed brown, with streaks of white, as is the current fashion.
“Wow, that was close. I was supposed to go get lunch for the both of us…”
“…And instead you came here to me? Gwen I’m honored!”
“Don’t flatter yourself, lah. Anyway, I got to go le. Can you drive me to get some grub?”
“Grub?”
“Food!”
“Oh, Ok, no problem.”
“Heh, I told you the egg would hit first. You owe me two bucks.”
“Of course it hit first, you nitwit, you tossed the damned thing out before I even got ready.”
“Eh, nobody said life was fair, now pay up.”
“Fine.” Gwendolyn dug into her pockets and dug out a fist-full of coins. She stared at the pile as if counting, before shoving the whole lot down Stacy’s pants.
“Hey! Bitch!”
“Hey, nobody said life was fair. Let’s eat,” Gwen took another peek at the car owner downstairs, but he and his car was gone. “Eh, car wash dude is gone”
“I’m not surprised,” There was the clinking of coins hitting the floor at Stacy took off her pants to empty it out of whatever coins were left. “Get me chicken rice.”
“Oh, nice try, but you’ll never seduce me with that trick, Stace,” Gwen giggled as she skipped out the door of Stacy’s bedroom. “Chicken it is, then.”
Stacy sighed when she heard the front door close. Loudly. Muttering to herself about how she was going to bed Gwen someday, she flicked on the power switch and watched as her monitor slowly came to life.
“Faster, lah, stoopid machine!”
“Of course it hit first, you nitwit, you tossed the damned thing out before I even got ready.”
“Eh, nobody said life was fair, now pay up.”
“Fine.” Gwendolyn dug into her pockets and dug out a fist-full of coins. She stared at the pile as if counting, before shoving the whole lot down Stacy’s pants.
“Hey! Bitch!”
“Hey, nobody said life was fair. Let’s eat,” Gwen took another peek at the car owner downstairs, but he and his car was gone. “Eh, car wash dude is gone”
“I’m not surprised,” There was the clinking of coins hitting the floor at Stacy took off her pants to empty it out of whatever coins were left. “Get me chicken rice.”
“Oh, nice try, but you’ll never seduce me with that trick, Stace,” Gwen giggled as she skipped out the door of Stacy’s bedroom. “Chicken it is, then.”
Stacy sighed when she heard the front door close. Loudly. Muttering to herself about how she was going to bed Gwen someday, she flicked on the power switch and watched as her monitor slowly came to life.
“Faster, lah, stoopid machine!”
***
Gwen shifted her weight from foot to foot; impatient as the elevator took it’s time…elevating… to her floor. Her hand phone started to vibrate from within her pocket. It was a text message from Vincent. She grinned to herself. What perfect timing. She twirled her thumbs before typing out her reply in a flurry and punching the ‘send’ button. And just at that moment the elevator doors give off its annoying beep and opened.
Everything’s working like clockwork. Must be my lucky day. Should I try to buy Toto? I’m sure Vince can spare a few dollars change.
The elevator doors opened again on the seventh floor, and Gwen headed towards one end of the HDB block. She’d only met this Vincent at his place once before, but the route to his unit was easy to remember. Besides, He lived six stories directly below Stacy. She giggled again. If only they knew.
Gwen reached his front door and started pounding on it.
“Hoi! Vince! Open up! Before your ugly blue door gets smashed in!” There was a yell from within that sounded more like a squeak, and sounds of unsteady hands fumbling to get a key into a lock.
“Are you crazy, woman? Wa lau, if my neighbors hear that they’ll think you were some loan shark leh. I got a bloody reputation to keep you know?”
“Which reputation? The one where you sleep with sixteen year old girls?”
“Shut up! Besides, it’s legal, what. And you’re not sixteen, so what’re you complaining about?”
“I’m not complaining about anything. I’m just in a good mood today. So are you going to let me in, not? Or are we going to do it here?”
“Err, Gwen, are you ok? We can always put this off until another time…Ok, ok, Stop staring at me like that.”
Gwen stepped inside the door and made a bee-line for Vincent’s bedroom. The latter was left standing at the front door muttering to himself about how sometimes, getting laid was just not worth it.
Stepping into his bedroom, he found Gwen already half naked and in his bed.
“Gee Gwen, I didn’t know you were so eager to see me… What’s going on man?”
“Nothing, it’s just your lucky day. I’m in a really good mood today.”
“Ho? I guess we should make full use of it then!” And with that, the both of them disappeared under the sheets and the only thing a casual observer would have heard was the constant rhythmic creaking of Vincent’s wooden bed frame.
***
Over an hour and score minutes later, that same casual observer would have heard groans and squeals of the couple within the room. That, and the ringing of Gwen’s hand phone.
“Oh shit, it’s Stacey!” Gwen shoved Vincent unceremoniously off her and scrambled across the bed to get to her jeans.
“Who’s Stacey?”
“My best friend…Now shh! Stacey? Hey! Erm, no, I’m still wandering around Jurong Central…”
“Ah, best friend, you think she would–”
“She’s a lesbian, now Shh! So sorry Stacey honey, I’ll be back as fast as I can, ya? Ok, Bye!” Gwen tossed her hand phone aside and brushed a lock of shoulder length hair out of her face. Hair that was dyed brown, with streaks of white, as is the current fashion.
“Wow, that was close. I was supposed to go get lunch for the both of us…”
“…And instead you came here to me? Gwen I’m honored!”
“Don’t flatter yourself, lah. Anyway, I got to go le. Can you drive me to get some grub?”
“Grub?”
“Food!”
“Oh, Ok, no problem.”
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Tendrils of Promise
This is completely unrelated to the other works of mine...just blogging this piecea shiat that came into me head
********************************
He never intended to do it...But alas, even the strong willed have momentarily laspes...
On sudden impulse, he flicked his indicator lights to the right and turned into the small street several blocks from his flat. He noticed a cat staring at him as he was getting out of his coupe. Snarling back at the scruffy animal, he slammed the door in the hope of scaring it away.
He glanced back at the door, running his eyes over its gleaming, metallic blue surface. The damned vehicle cost him a bomb and he was not about to have it scratched by his stupidity only 2 months into the purchase.
He shuffled a couple of steps in the direction of the general store, kicking up sand in to the wind with his slightly faded sneakers. He sighed...he really needed new shoes. Humming a nervous tune, he shuffled the rest of the way to the store's entrance, as if unsure of what he wanted to do...
3 mintues later he was back in the car, his purchase in the passenger seat. 15 mintues after that he was back in his house, contemplating if he should go ahead with what he had planned to do.
With a barely audible 'Bah' he grabbed the item and walked out into the common landing. He lived on the 13th floor and decied to walk back down to the first to get his mail. Fingering his purchase, he finally sighed and ripped off the wrapper and flicked the cover open.
Taking a long hard look at the 20 sticks within, there was a slight pang of guit as he took one out with his lips. A small voice inside was telling him to stop being foolish, he'd done this before, what difference now?
He'd reached the stairwell, and the only sound that could be heard was the flicking of a lighter. This was it. He shut his eyes and took a deep draw from the stick.
His lungs hurt, but not in a bad way. His whole body gave a slight shudder, as if embracing an old lover after a long period of absence. He could hold his breath no more. The smoke escaping from his mouth was like that of a spastic gesyer. Coughing, he opened his eyes, and almost wished he had not. Slightly dizzy, he took another draw from the cigarette. And another, and another. Each breath hurting less, and feeling more pleasureable.
Just like sex, he thought grimly.
Time lost its meaning, and he sank down onto the stairs, feeling insanely high and unable to keep his balance. He tossed the cigarette butt -now wet- away. After an immeasurable amount of time his senses came back to him, and he was surprised to find himself on the 4th floor. Getting to his feet with a slight wobble, he continued his way down the stairs...
With a muted curse he slammed the mail box shut, and looked for a place to sit. His head was feeling really heavy, a polar opposite of 5 mintues ago.
He sighed. Was it really worth it? Granted, it was the second-best feeling in the world, after an actual orgasm, but was it worth the trouble of weaning himself of the damned sticks? Again?
He shrugged the thoughts away, and shuffled his way into the elevator, it was getting late, and his girlfriend would kill him if she found out.
His fingers twitched towards the box as the elevator doors closed...
********************************
He never intended to do it...But alas, even the strong willed have momentarily laspes...
On sudden impulse, he flicked his indicator lights to the right and turned into the small street several blocks from his flat. He noticed a cat staring at him as he was getting out of his coupe. Snarling back at the scruffy animal, he slammed the door in the hope of scaring it away.
He glanced back at the door, running his eyes over its gleaming, metallic blue surface. The damned vehicle cost him a bomb and he was not about to have it scratched by his stupidity only 2 months into the purchase.
He shuffled a couple of steps in the direction of the general store, kicking up sand in to the wind with his slightly faded sneakers. He sighed...he really needed new shoes. Humming a nervous tune, he shuffled the rest of the way to the store's entrance, as if unsure of what he wanted to do...
3 mintues later he was back in the car, his purchase in the passenger seat. 15 mintues after that he was back in his house, contemplating if he should go ahead with what he had planned to do.
With a barely audible 'Bah' he grabbed the item and walked out into the common landing. He lived on the 13th floor and decied to walk back down to the first to get his mail. Fingering his purchase, he finally sighed and ripped off the wrapper and flicked the cover open.
Taking a long hard look at the 20 sticks within, there was a slight pang of guit as he took one out with his lips. A small voice inside was telling him to stop being foolish, he'd done this before, what difference now?
He'd reached the stairwell, and the only sound that could be heard was the flicking of a lighter. This was it. He shut his eyes and took a deep draw from the stick.
His lungs hurt, but not in a bad way. His whole body gave a slight shudder, as if embracing an old lover after a long period of absence. He could hold his breath no more. The smoke escaping from his mouth was like that of a spastic gesyer. Coughing, he opened his eyes, and almost wished he had not. Slightly dizzy, he took another draw from the cigarette. And another, and another. Each breath hurting less, and feeling more pleasureable.
Just like sex, he thought grimly.
Time lost its meaning, and he sank down onto the stairs, feeling insanely high and unable to keep his balance. He tossed the cigarette butt -now wet- away. After an immeasurable amount of time his senses came back to him, and he was surprised to find himself on the 4th floor. Getting to his feet with a slight wobble, he continued his way down the stairs...
With a muted curse he slammed the mail box shut, and looked for a place to sit. His head was feeling really heavy, a polar opposite of 5 mintues ago.
He sighed. Was it really worth it? Granted, it was the second-best feeling in the world, after an actual orgasm, but was it worth the trouble of weaning himself of the damned sticks? Again?
He shrugged the thoughts away, and shuffled his way into the elevator, it was getting late, and his girlfriend would kill him if she found out.
His fingers twitched towards the box as the elevator doors closed...
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