March 31, 2016 § Leave a comment
Yesterday was the first time I meet an angel.
I was seated with my friend by a table that held a mountain of books, and both of our laptops. After half an hour of discussing equations for our upcoming exam, I saw two women waiting for their order by the counter. One of them had wings, and they were big –so big that it must’ve been extremely inconvenient for her to pass by the café’s entrance door. She carried them gracefully like her smile. They were blue at their core, with feathers white and grey like the sky that cloudy day. Her yellow eyelashes curled up to her forehead, and her hair was white.
To my pleasant surprise, they sat at the table beside us. I could overhear the girl with the magical wings speak over and over, and for two hours, she barely ever stopped. I could not stop looking. I did try, of course. I had to remain subtle or else they’d have considered me a creep. Behind her eyelashes were glittering stars, as though galaxies seen from a painter’s brush. I contemplated walking up and saying anything. I contemplated for a while.
After I mustered all the guts in me, I walked towards them, firmly placed my hand on the table and said, “Excuse me.”
“Yes?” they both answered.
I finally looked towards the winged girl’s friend and said, “I think you look very beautiful.”
March 21, 2016 § Leave a comment
This is based on a true story.
The night wrapped its arms around us as we ran, and the wind came scorching through. We entered the bus, and as we socialised surrounded by the walls of the world, one exclaimed, “You should visit the Holy Land!”
Seated on the floor, I felt a breeze amidst a sea of people, amongst the warmth of laughter and short introductions –amongst hopeful diplomats and young adults. Once hearing his statement, I stood up.
His associate exclaimed her desire to visit my country, which they had stolen decades ago –the same land thousands had died for, millions had their hearts torn and stepped on by their guns. She exclaimed her enthusiasm to visit the ground where her people had tortured my own.
“Oh, why don’t you?” I replied, dodging the overwhelming elephant in the room.
“Because of security and stuff.”
Of course, it was security that prevented her from visiting.
Forty minutes later, we arrived where everyone was dropped off, and the four of us remained, split into two. Cousins, they’d call us, closer to one another than the driver who dropped us in the middle of God knows where. Thrown out of the bus into the black pit of the night, and once again, hugged by the cold, we recognised that all four of us arrived in a foreign land. We had no other choice but each other’s company.
Two, and two, from each side, like a moving box, we walked and talked. I heard laughter from behind me; we joked and talked about God knows what. I could hardly recall any of our conversations, for the elephant that walked beside us spoke louder than our hearts. I feared for my life, and certainly did they.
“I’m balding; maybe I’ll start wearing a hat like you when I’m older.”
Funny, he thought himself to be, as though acting ignorant towards the scarf I wrap around my head.
Continuing the play of stupid-pretend, we proceeded to walk.