J Encounter

As tribute to "The Dancing Diva", the next short story is coming up..

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Superficial Symbolism vs. Connection

By the sidewalk we sat together side by side, smoking Marlboro Ice. Not in the bar, not in a cafe and not at the Starbucks that were just not too far beside us where we sat. In front of us were supposed to be a water splashing fountain that had been switched off at that hour. Not many pedestrian but just cars drove passed us rushing to go somewhere. Lights are switching off one by one. I went to x-ray again the other day, she said, while looking at the dried fountain, then she continued, The image shows it's getting bigger. It's that why there is a cut mark on your wrist? I ventured. It could be benign i said. There is constant pain in me. She replied, her palm pressed against her lower stomach. A cut could be a distraction. Can i take a closer look at the mark on your wrist? i asked. What does it matter? She dismissed my request. Away, her hand holding the cigarette. Out of sight. No. I'm just thinking. Everyone has the tendency to end their own life. Some peop...
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Hidden Letter

Dear Jin, I don't know if these words would get to you, but if you are reading this, i must have already long gone. I told you before i want to have a life with you together in the city. While you study in the best university in the country, i would work in a convenient store, or as waitress in a restaurant. We would live together. I would learn to cook your favorite dishes that i so suck at. When you work hard in busy schedules, i would wait for you to come home no matter how late it would be. Sorry that i did what i did to you. Sorry that i have betrayed you. I broke your heart. Nothing i could say to explain to you how much i wanted us to live a life together, till we are getting older and older until the end of time, i still do, always do. But i was not able to go with you. I knew i had to leave soon. So soon, so much sooner. Deep down i really don't want you to find this letter. I don't want to break your heart for the second time. I don't know why i'm writin...
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Black out and the sound of piano

It was March; the weather was in its hottest in year. I would not consider it a summer because we didn’t have any here, beetles buzzed loud at surrounding trees and woods, almost deafening, it’s quite unusual to be that loud but it was even more unusual that I could hear it so clearly – the earth was on a holiday. I looked up into the trees’ canopies; my eyes squinted, I used my palm to form an imaginary cap in front my forehead. Thirty to forty feet ahead, afternoon sunlight pierced through the scattered leafs, formed patches of lights on my sweating body. I picked up the hacked woods from the ground, and filled it into the empty basket. The place we all live was far away from town, a place that was consider a cut-off of some basic resources, so everyday before the sky got dark, I would go into the forest to collect as much dry woods as possible, if we didn’t finish it, we still could use it during emergencies. These years had not been too peaceful, I didn’t know how many people had d...
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