The story that wants to be told now

My intention was to start 2013 either finishing up my Manang story. Or start compiling my AtoZ stories before April 2013 comes around.

But of course, stories tend not to do what they’re supposed to do because another story wanted to be told. A story that parallels what I’m going through right now. And despite the fact that I’d come home so tired from work and just want to lay in bed and sleep. My fingers itched to type and over 2 hours last night, I wrote 5000 words of this story that may be fairly heartbreaking.

At first, I went Another heartbreaking story? I don’t want to write anymore of those! I resisted because writing those stories while it seems that I have an affinity for them, only makes me feel unhappy.

I’ve still got more heartbreak to write into the story but I”m aiming for a happy ever ending for my characters – Chris and Angie – that unfortunately, real life doesn’t mimic.

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In the Madeleine L’Engle Room (F2K): Lesson 2 Activating the Senses

Update (12/10): This Lesson was chosen for the weekly ezine over at F2K. I’m super-chuffed and amazingly humbled. 

So, Lesson 2 was a doozy for me and I suppose it’s because I’ve never really paid that much attention to which of my senses were activated when I read. I always relied on the overall feel and not the specific evocation of the senses from each sentence read.

Write one (1) paragraph using all the senses. Include at least three (3) words or phrases that suggest something without saying what the sense is.

Lesson 2 consisted of three parts actually. The first was to come up with sentences for each of the 8 senses and feedback from peers would be to identify which of the senses the writer wanted to evoke. The second part is as above. And the third was to read James Joyces’ A Little Cloud and identify sentences which evoked each of the 8 senses. It was the first time I’ve read James Joyce so I had to take it slow and break it down into individual sentences and denote each with a sense, wherever relevant. Even to me, that sounded anal.

Anyway, for Part 2 of my exercise, I decided to explore Toby and Chase a little bit more and came up with this:

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The restaurant staff directed Chase to the sliding doors that led out to the balcony beside the dining area. Her taffeta gown rustled gently and tickled her ankles as she moved briskly towards the sliding doors, pushed it open and sauntered out.   She was immediately caressed by the light of the moon which casted the landscape below her in an eerie pastel overtone. Tobacco smoke lingered on the balcony, perhaps from its previous occupant. Chase hoped she’d be able to wash it off her rented gown. She sighed thinking that the night had not panned out the way she expected. She leaned against the balustrade and removed her cherry lip gloss from her purse, touched up her lips then licked them, savouring the tart sweetness of the lip gloss.
(word count 130)
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I’m now second-guessing myself, wondering if I got this right. Awaiting feedback.

when

Was it when
women threw themselves at you
and you couldn’t have them?

Or when you called me
to tell me (proudly)
that you resisted,
regret lacing each uttered word?

Or when you realised that this was IT
– a possible lifetime with me
like a death sentence?

Was it when
we fought over the phone
for the hundreth time
Again?
And I hung up
without saying goodbye
and you called again
just to say fuck you?

Or was it when
you had dinner with her?
which you hid from me
because the guilt
was too much to swallow.
Pun intended.

Maybe it was when
you looked up at the night sky
hearing the waves crashing
with her beside you, holding hands?
I’m just guessing.

Or was it when to save myself
I said we should take break?
And you said no deal.

When?

Among all those whens
and other whens unsaid,
unknown
secret whens
that you decided
that you chose
to stop loving
me.

When?

incomplete

Sometimes, the noise is deafeningly silent,

And sometimes, it’s lonely in the middle of a crowd.

I shiver in the sweltering heat,

I feel high deep underground.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning on dry land,

And at other times, the open air suffocates.

It used to be that the night is so bright,

Now often, the day is dark.

So many times, my whisper is a shout,

And I try to reach out from within.

Saturday @ 2am

Return To Me
my drunken giggles
as i told you that loose lips sink ships –
and also the kisses
i fluttered on your fingertips.

Give Them Back
my wondrous gasp
when i pointed out “The moon’s so bright!”
and my shrieks of joy as we stood on the rocks
watching seabirds take flight.
my patience when you’re late again
for our dinner date
the jokes i tell
when you’re upset

Return to Me
every single wrench of my heart
and every single tear drop shed
every small caress
and hugs on your body laid.

I Need Them All
even my broken dreams
that i whispered in your ears
my ‘i love you’s
and especially my sayangs and my dears.