It just fun to write without being interrupted

February 10, 2015

Silver Lining


              The majestic vein-like lights started to roam the darkened sky. Slowly, the dry pavements began to wet with little raindrops. Drip upon drip they sent shivers to her weak bones. The silhouette of big trees opposite her house swung from right to left. The clouds were having a war again. The glass window was wet washed up by heavy rain. Her vision became a blur. She wiped the glass window repeatedly though she knew already that the blurriness would not go away. All she saw then were bright lights from the streets and heard the swish of tires against the tarred roads. She put her paw against the window pane. It felt cold. The glass window was smooth compared to the rough tarred road. She remembered the revolting greenish slime under her paws before. The colour never seemed to vanish even until today.  However, she was glad that the smell had gone. The mixed odour of wet garbage, mud, grass, blood and rotten food; they smelled of desolation and disgrace. It was horrific. She loved the rain though. It had this wonderful distinct smell that always seemed to soothe her unsettled heart. The every drip of it that fell onto a solid object played a rhythm of life. Drip, drip, drip, her soul waltzed to it. Drip, drip, drip, her body felt light.

              Her eyes slowly shutting as her head rested onto her paws. Suddenly, a bright light flashed before her eyes. A small vehicle stopped on the side of the road. A little boy ran out of the car and disappeared into the tall grass among the big trees. Soon, he went out with a small animal in his arms. It was a very small kitten. She wondered how the little boy managed to see that tiny creature since it was quite dark and rainy. She couldn’t figure out the mystery very well as heavy breath rose slowly from her chest. She thought maybe children do have mysterious instincts. Their pure hearts could always see what we could not. The rain was stopping.

              The little boy hugged the kitten tightly and his parents patted on his back like a congratulate gesture. She stared out to the boy as he wrapped the little kitten with his sweater. She also saw him wiping the little kitten’s paws with it. She looked down to hers.  A few thin furs surrounded the window seat. Her head felt heaviness so she rested it onto her paws. Little by little, the sun peeked out from behind the big trees. She saw the boy bringing the kitten into the car. The kitten looked a bit weak but she knew that it would be given a home where it could grow healthy and strong. Her gaze steadied onto the new family then her eyes began to shut tight. Now, all she could hear was the vehicle driving off. The rainwater from the tiny hanging orchid pots fell onto a broken stool outside the window. Drip, drip, drip, it played the rhythm of life. Drip, drip, drip, the raindrop fell and her pulse danced slowly to it. She felt glad that a soul was saved that day. She felt fortunate to have witnessed such wonderful event. Drip, drip, drip, the raindrop fell like a tick of a clock. Her breath drew heavier, her heartbeat stopped then she fell into eternal darkness. No raindrops were heard ever since.
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February 1, 2015


When you read a book, not a particularly ordinary book in this case. And each words written there seems to be etched upon your skins of thoughts. You mind scarred with its beauty, aching for more, craving to have written in equal aesthetic quality.

I can't help myself from stopping for a while, to gulp the fluid of words down my throat and move my hand to scribble the torrents down in blank pages. 

Dead men's words have never been so alive, as long as the words he crafted live in the mind of those who reads.

I am intoxicated beyond words and strings of alphabets. 
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