Big Fishes Carnival at The Lake - A Family
His big, green eyes. His adorable growl. His weak movements.
Igor still couldn’t believe that he had a little brother, much less fathom how he was once a feeble creature. Laying down on the baked soil of Africa, his little brother Elliot tried to reach the older brother’s tough, yet caring face, and Igor was there only to be mesmerized yet again. Often he would lower down, burying his face on the innocently small figure, unbelievably similar to his; and the little cub Elliot would gladly hold him tight. When the dry wind of the savanna gently stroke the two, their gloriously golden fur caught the wind and spread to display the creatures’ majesty to merely the dancing tall grasses, quite unfortunately.
Saturday, 27 September 2014
Saturday, 30 August 2014
Which is The World With 'Us'?
Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - Which is The World With 'Us'?
Have you ever wished for a second chance? Failed yet again and wished for a third chance? Have you ever wished for an unlimited number of chances so you could always try to amend your mistakes, however trivial or colossal? Trust me: you wouldn't want it. It really felt like a miracle, a blessing to be given more and more chances - until you found out that you will never make it out prevailing. It was, then, just destiny smacking your face with the same guilt again and again. Memories so thin, so faint were the only means of remembering the beginning of such sorcery. So I injected a dose of memories to myself: to remind me of what had (not) been done and what mistakes I (have not) committed.
Have you ever wished for a second chance? Failed yet again and wished for a third chance? Have you ever wished for an unlimited number of chances so you could always try to amend your mistakes, however trivial or colossal? Trust me: you wouldn't want it. It really felt like a miracle, a blessing to be given more and more chances - until you found out that you will never make it out prevailing. It was, then, just destiny smacking your face with the same guilt again and again. Memories so thin, so faint were the only means of remembering the beginning of such sorcery. So I injected a dose of memories to myself: to remind me of what had (not) been done and what mistakes I (have not) committed.
Monday, 23 June 2014
10 Cent
Big Fishes Carnival at The Lake - 10 Cent
A story may have an awesome protagonist, an evil mastermind as a villain, a whole new world to discover. A story may also contains something very profound, or something very close to us: love, relationship, ideals. These striking premises are good to have because by having a string of words that describe the story partially, you get people to read it. A story may have all these overwhelmingly interesting stuff, but it need not have.
For example, the story of a 10 cent coin.
A story may have an awesome protagonist, an evil mastermind as a villain, a whole new world to discover. A story may also contains something very profound, or something very close to us: love, relationship, ideals. These striking premises are good to have because by having a string of words that describe the story partially, you get people to read it. A story may have all these overwhelmingly interesting stuff, but it need not have.
For example, the story of a 10 cent coin.
Saturday, 21 June 2014
Demon: His Master (Ch. 8)
The Dead Masters - Demon: His Master
A church in white, that’s where he was heading.
Never before did he imagined himself to step into the holy place – he thought once was terrible enough. It had burnt his skin before, but this time, it wasn’t as bad. The place had lost its holy aura. He didn’t know to consider it a shame or a lucky coincidence.
There weren’t as many people there anymore. The only pastor here, that Nathan Cross, had gone missing, for a reason only he knows. It used to be a place full of desperate people trying to reach that one sliver of hope, as the world today is but an endless chilling frost and with it comes the misfortune for the resident. None of them ever realized that they were so lucky to have their town protected still, albeit by one so vile. The man of red wondered why the hell did those people still believe in god.
A church in white, that’s where he was heading.
Never before did he imagined himself to step into the holy place – he thought once was terrible enough. It had burnt his skin before, but this time, it wasn’t as bad. The place had lost its holy aura. He didn’t know to consider it a shame or a lucky coincidence.
There weren’t as many people there anymore. The only pastor here, that Nathan Cross, had gone missing, for a reason only he knows. It used to be a place full of desperate people trying to reach that one sliver of hope, as the world today is but an endless chilling frost and with it comes the misfortune for the resident. None of them ever realized that they were so lucky to have their town protected still, albeit by one so vile. The man of red wondered why the hell did those people still believe in god.
Thursday, 1 May 2014
The Vault
Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - The Vault
I found it when I was a little 5-year-old girl who wished she could chase a butterfly straight to its home, hoping that a whole family of the flying colorful could amaze her even more. Nobody seemed to know where the vault was, even if the opening was large enough that it looked like a pimple on the grassland, so with that naïve mindset of mine I declare the vault my possession.
I found it when I was a little 5-year-old girl who wished she could chase a butterfly straight to its home, hoping that a whole family of the flying colorful could amaze her even more. Nobody seemed to know where the vault was, even if the opening was large enough that it looked like a pimple on the grassland, so with that naïve mindset of mine I declare the vault my possession.
From then on, the vault was part of me.
Wednesday, 12 March 2014
Epilogue
Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - Epilogue
What’s that?
‘Probably nothing,’ I said to myself as I move back to my corner in the dark. In the farawy part of this pitch-black, another rodent scratched the beautifully textured wall of brick, a nature’s work to marvel. I envy those rats – although gross, they have the freedom to warp through this prison of cold and moss, one with a convict accused of no crime. That convict, though, have little strength to resist, so I did nothing but sit in the corner, with no pen no paper.
What’s that?
‘Probably nothing,’ I said to myself as I move back to my corner in the dark. In the farawy part of this pitch-black, another rodent scratched the beautifully textured wall of brick, a nature’s work to marvel. I envy those rats – although gross, they have the freedom to warp through this prison of cold and moss, one with a convict accused of no crime. That convict, though, have little strength to resist, so I did nothing but sit in the corner, with no pen no paper.
Saturday, 15 February 2014
Red Ribbon
Big Fishes' Carnival at The Lake - Red Ribbon
A funeral. The red ribbon still on the wrist.
None wondered why a cluster of humans gathered around a coffin much like people gather around campfires, albeit the contrast in atmosphere. Although obstructed by layers of grieving acquaintances, one could clearly imagine a lady on her forties kneeling down, stupidly banging on the coffin walls wailing for explanations, her cry of sorrow striking the hearts of every. The father, a tall man of calmness, would softly hold her shoulder, and although excruciated, would patiently wait for his beloved wife to quench out all her tears, her questions unanswered. As the last line of sorrow break in them one by one, they started to look away, unable to bear, unprepared for a missing existence. For a person so loved, the breathless persona must be of kind nature.
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