November 27, 2015 § Leave a comment
I know I’m just an old cat who likes to eat cookies and catch grasshoppers, instead of hunting mice. I mean, what do I know about cool stuff like teenagers as you do,right?
But let me say it this time.
Today, I’m glad you have chosen that sweatshirt (which is my favorite too).
I’m glad you wear those shoes. And I’m glad you take me here with you, to our secret place where we can see the sun begins to set.
I’m glad the way you pick your favorites when you feel down. That’s a smart and brave choice.
I hope you can go through the day–no matter how bad it is.
You will always have my back.
November 3, 2015 § Leave a comment
Hey, what happened with your hair?
Why you never learn how to greet a girl on Skype, Ron?
Seriously, that’s curly! I never see you with curly hair since we’re in junior high!
Oh please stop laughing like that.
Sorry. Is it because of Mark? Or your thesis?
Mark didn’t say anything about my hair. It pissed me off too. At least he could say something about my hair, right? But no, it’s more because of my thesis. It drives me crazy. So yesterday I decided to get a new haircut. A bit too far hair-makeover, don’t ya think?
No, you look fresher. And pretty, really.
Keep on wooing, Ron. By the way, I feel so tired. This thesis-thing has drained my energy. I think my mom was right. I’m too young to chase this ambition. Mysubject is too high. Sometimes I just want to run out of my laboratory and spend the whole day sitting on the couch and watching NCIS back to back—and eating ice cream.
Just calm down, Jess. I’m sure you can do your thesis very well.
Oh I hope so. So, what news are you going to tell me?
My project. The scenario has done. The team is ready.
I want it to be the best short-film ever captured. The film that the audience will think about it years later.
And how do you manage it? Asking Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper to do their perfect acts again?
Yeah, keep laughing at me, the NYU youngest-PhD-candidate.
Hey, it’s not my fault that I’m genius …
I know those words too well, sorry. Now listen, I have found the actress.
That’s another great news!
She is smart. Plain. A bit scary.
Scary? Are you about to making a horror movie or what?
Sort of. A psychological thriller, to be exact.
Now you tell me that! That’s interesting. I can’t wait the premier.
And you know what, I ….
Oh, someone’s knocking the door. Sorry Ron. Can we talk again tomorrow? I have to go now with my friends.
You’re going out? But you’ve just told me that you are tired…
Yeah, but there’s a party and one of my favorite professor would come there, so this is kinda an exception…
What? A professor in a party? That’s ridiculously impossible!
Well, you’d be surprised to see how cool they are nowadays, Mr. Director.
Oh, come on, Jess.
Really sorry Ron, I need to go.
Yeah, okay. All right. Just go and make sure everybody see your new haircut.
He stared at the empty screen. Slight smile was still lingering on his face.
See you again tomorrow, Jess.
September 30, 2015 § Leave a comment
“It won’t be long,” he said to his dog that kept jumping. “You know I’ve gotten used to it.”
It was the third swing he made on that tree—an old big tree that had been a place to play for him and his friends at orphan house since a long time.
His dog didn’t stop jumping, and now yelping as if in sadness.
The boy frowned a bit, “Hey, you’re supposed to be happy. We’re going to have a new swing. This one can bring you to the moon, I promise.”
The boy didn’t know that his dog was trying to tell something. That they had to move to another place, soon. That in few months there’d be new constructions here—like the ones they used to see at the city horizon.
And therefore this new swing would be the last for them.
September 10, 2015 § Leave a comment
There was the house camp—Ben could see the dim lighting at it. Only a
few hundred meters more and he could join the others for the group
So far, everything had been fine. Professor Grimm satisfied with good
deal of potential antimicrobial source plants they’d found in the
woods. Tonight they would compile all samples and complete the records
(and maybe do a little roasted-corn-party to celebrate their
achievement), and then went home to the town the next morning.
Ben checked his watch and guessed that they would be the last pair to
arrive at the camp. He and Riki had explored further along the creek,
and went back when the last light vanished from the sky—but he was
pretty sure their findings were worth it.
It was that good—unless a thing with his research partner, Riki. You
could put two very contrary characters in Riki—intellectual power and
superstitious things. In other words, he was a bad companion to do
research in the field—particularly at nights. Other than that, Riki was
a kind boy and—most importantly—had been his neighbor and friend since
senior high. Still, Ben hadn’t quite adjusted to it. It wasn’t because
he scared, it was because he bored.
“Well, it’s weird,” said Riki, for a tenth time since they left the
creek. “It’s weird that I can’t feel anything. It’s usually stronger in
woods or forests.”
Ben shrugged his backpack and muttered something like ‘oh really’ and
didn’t ask further as he knew very well what ‘feeling’ Riki referred
They kept walking, even though Riki didn’t cease watching their
surroundings with his usual poker face despite the strange silence of
the woods or the cool breeze swaying the leaves.
“Maybe,” Riki continued after a while, “it has to do something with my
granny said last month. I haven’t told you about that, have I?”
Ben sighed and kept walking. “I guess so.”
“So let us check these out,” said Riki, as if Ben loved the idea. He
waved his flashlight up to the sky. “It’s day seven of this month,
“The seventh month of the year.”
“And it’s almost seven now,” Riki pointed the light to Ben’s watch.
“And in case you had forgotten, I’m the seventh child in the family—
well, from both my dad and mom’s. That’s the most important point.”
Ben’s step even slowed when he heard the fact. “Really? You have six
siblings? I thought they’re only four.”
Riki shrugged away his interest and said, “Anyway, my granny said that
there would be something unusual happen to the seventh child in the
family—along with other ‘seven’ things.”
“I’m 25, it’s also seven if you add the numbers.” Riki frowned to
himself. “Don’t you think it’s weird—all those ‘seven’, and the fact I
can’t feel anything—anything at all—in this woods? I’m wondering if
‘loosing my special ability’ is what Granny meant.”
“Yeah,” Ben yawned and nodded to his own jacket. “You can include this
seven, too. From the last season’s Seven League, remember? And
honestly, I think it’s good for you to have such breaks from ‘seeing’
or ‘feeling’, you know, those kinds.”
Riki came to a halt and pointed the flashlight to the number ‘7’ at
Ben’s jacket. “It should be nothing to do with you,” he said slowly,
“because it’s about me. But… who knows?”
Out of a blue, Ben felt something different. The wind grew cooler so
that he suddenly shivered. He turned to see around. Something caught
his sight over the nearest tree, right behind Riki. Ben turned pale.
“Riki,” he squaked. “Are you sure you can’t feel anything—I mean
anything? Like… this sudden-frosty-air, or… something else.” He stared
at one spot.
Riki shook his head. Ben could see he was grinning. “Nope. But you know
what, I think you’re right. It’s new for me—for not feeling anything
like ‘that.’ And I feel good.”
But Ben didn’t hear clearly anymore because memories flashed in his
head—the particular things Riki usually told him when he ‘saw’
something: the cold air, the weird smell, the wisp of mist—which now
floated behind Riki.
The mist had formed a transparent body, and a hollow face.