Dear Yellow Leaf

I always believe that green will always be your color. I always cherish your color of green; the symbols of life, spirit of life, beauty. You used to be up there hanging on a certain branch—so high that I hardly can reach you. But this makes me always longing to climb up the tree and touch you. As simple as that. I have never think of picking you and then putting you between pages of my favorite book, so I can have you always. All I want is to see you staying green on your branch, lively, and fresh as morning dews or rain drops in the afternoon wash you through.

Up to this day, I have never climbed that tree and sat on the branch where you belong. I’m too cowards to give it try. But this morning, I picked a ladder in the backyard--it seems that my father used it yesterday to cut some trees--and encouraged myself to climb the ladder and climbed on your branch. The ladder is too short that I couldn't go further, closer to you. But this was the first time I could see you this close. I sat on the lowest branch. Since I was afraid to climb higher, I was quite happy to be that high, that close to you. And I am sure, you could feel and hear me. Right?

Uhmm, what do I expect, anyway? Sitting there for a while and doing nothing! When I was thinking about this, all of sudden, I was worried about you. I wished that you were different leaf. I wished you wouldn't change color as typical leaves. That is why I stood up and tried to get you. Useless. You were just so far away up there. The morning sun was shining on you--on your wet surface because of morning dews. You had never been looked this fragile and attractive at once. I suddenly knew that the time was coming soon. You slowly were changing color into yellow. It made me sad. But somehow I felt pleased for I had tried to reach you. If tomorrow the autumn wind fails you to the ground, I won’t feel so miserable—I hope.

It was raining cats and dogs this afternoon. The wind blew harder as it used to. The sky was far from blue. Then, I just knew it; it was the time!

When the rain stopped, I rushed to the yard and there I saw you. Yellow and wet.

Adieau. 

***

NB: 

No matter what, you were my green leaf. Ever.

*for creative writing ink (January 23rd)

The Accident

At that very moment, when I realized there was a car rushing into me, I suddenly remembered you!

I reflex dropped my black umbrella and closed my face with my two hands hoping that this act would save me from the car. I couldn’t think of any better way to get rid of the sudden incident. As I heard a sound of a brake suddenly hit and a long ear-breaking horn, a question came to my mind in an instant: What if I die now?

In the meantime, I felt a cold touch of the body of the car on my leg. I fell down. The driver seemed successful stopping the car in time. I was okay, but terribly shocked.

The driver asked if I was okay. Some passersby got closer and did the same. I said no words; rather I sat still on the asphalt—shaking. I knew the answer for their question was ‘Yes, I am okay’, but it was trapped somewhere on my throat.

I felt so powerless and sad that I cried. Thanks to the pouring rain; it disguised my tears. It was neither the pain on my leg, the bruise on my knee nor the blood on my palm striking the asphalt which made me crying. It was more because of the thought—an instant thought coming to my mind when I felt so close to the death: What if I—your secret admirer—die today while I haven’t let you know that I love you?!

*written for Creative Writing Ink.

Moving Forward?

Image Courtesy: ~L/Untitled Moments

I'm stuck here.
Suddenly, I'm so afraid to move forward since I'm not anymore sure about the reason of why I should make it through. But I can't go back. It's a long journey to come here. Considering many aspects, going back is not an option; that's not reasonable to do.

My eyes wander about the vast field of wheat: searching for a sign or an answer about what I should do, and find nothing. I look up to the sky. The sky is so blue and silent; no cloud number nine. The wheat bushes are hissing along with the breeze; I feel uneasy even more.

Silently, I pray to God that hopefully there will no green-eyed monster here. Because if it really exists, I will feel much more in vain. The green-eyed monster is never kind. It often times makes us end up a useless hatred and resentment.  It's disgusting.

I've made a temporary decision; I will stay here a little while and try to learn how to "enjoy" the uneasiness and undefined feelings ruffling my heart--my inner self!

Pray for me, my dear fellow, that I will soon be free from all of these confussion and ambiguity of feelings. Believe me, it's totally awful and absurd to suffer from the uneasiness of something you can't explain--something you don't even know the what or the why!



* Written for Short Story Slam Week 8.
  Also linked in The Tale Tellers and Sunday Scribblings #280.

Lila and a Stranger Boy

Lila could not remember how she could arrive in this vast field of gloom.

She only remembered exactly that she was walking out of her school yard when some kids were running to the alley not too far from her school.

"Come with us!" a boy her age suddenly stopped and invited her. His hair was black, a little bit curly, and shining.
Lila stared at him cautiously and said nothing, a little bit shocked. She captured this boy had beautiful green eyes.
"Come...," said the boy again while trying to grab her hand.

Lila stepped backward.

"Why? You don't want? Are you afraid?"
"No. I just wondered where you will go?" answered Lila, having no idea what to say.
"To a place you want to go. That's what people said," said the boy confidently. "Come!"
"I can't. I am waiting for my parents to pick me up."
"Oh, I should have known this: another homey girl," said the boy sarcastically.
"What do you mean?" Lila was hurt hearing it though she could not understand exactly what the boy meant.
"Ah forget it. I'm wasting my time now. I have to go. You can go home and play with your dolls."
"Hey! Who do you think you are saying those rude words to me?!"
"I'm no body, but I can be somebody. That's up to you." The boy grinned, and ran to the alley.

***

Lila looked around, but saw no body. Those kids she saw running were (as if) vanished. They should be here, in the vast field of gloom. She was sure she followed the right track. The alley only led to this field. She hesitated to go back, but she remembered to the boy's word and decided  to go on. She's not a homey girl. She's smart and beautiful. That's what people used to say about her. Deep inside her heart she wanted to prove it to the sarcastic boy.

***

She knew it exactly, the weather minutes ago--right before she arrived in this field--was lovely and sunny, and today was her last day of school before summer holiday. But what she saw now was totally different. It's just like in another part of the world. The sky was so gloomy that it seemed to be painted with all black and grey. The land was in the same color; no green grass nor flowers. There was one tree in front of her, a dead tree: no leaves, not green.

She walked to the tree. She planned in her head: to walk to the tree and see it closer, then go back to school. She had no reason why she was suddenly interested in an old and dead tree, but she kept walking. When she got closer and went around the tree, to her surprise, she met the boy sitting under the tree. She felt a jolt in her heart.

"So, you come here," said the boy.
"Yes," she tried to sound friendly. "What place is it actually? Where are they--the other kids?"
"I don't know. I didn't see another kids but you."
"But, you were with them running."
"Really?" the boy stared at her in real amazement.

Lila was confused and had no idea what to say. She rather said, "I think I have to go back. Bye." She tried to be friendly.

"Once you get here, it's not easy to come back. We can go through to the other part, but the door is closed now. We are late. Other kids are there, going to the place we want to go." The boy said those words while staring at the far grey sky.

"You lied!" Without waiting for a response, Lila ran back to the alley. Unfortunately, she could not find it. She ran back and forth but could only see the vast field of dry and grey land. She was so disoriented, confused, and so much worried she went back to the boy. She was so angry to the boy that he made her coming here.

She was about to hit him with her bag, when the boy shouted: "Watch out! See this line. You cannot pass this line. It's my territory."

Lila saw that the boy had made a circle around the tree, and he stood in the circle. Lila glared to the boy and was so wrathful that she cried sobbing. She sat on the ground and cursed herself for being so stupid following crazy boy. During her lifetime, she had never been rejected or mocked. She got always what she wanted. Everybody loved her and often praised her with nice words. She had everything. But now, she was lost in strange field with unfriendly boy she had never known, only because she wanted to defend herself from the boy's teasing words.

She felt sorry to her parents that she did not obey their words to wait for them after school. She remembered her friends and teachers, her lovely cat at home. All nice things were crisscrossing her mind mixed with anger and fear that she would not be able to get back to her normal and beautiful life.

"What is it all about? What have I done to you that you treat me this way?" asked Lila with resignation. She seemed so tired for crying an intense sobbing.

The boy, a little bit shocked staring at her, said nothing. He then erased the circle with his feet. "Sorry. I just try to protect myself. And do forgive me that I cannot answer your question. I'm confused myself."
"I want to go home!" Lila shouted while hitting the boy with her bag.
"I'm afraid we cannot."
"I don't care; I just want to go home. Do something. You made me come here, now you have to bring me back."
"You'd better save your energy, we don't have food here."
Lila stopped crying suddenly as she heard it. She was so hopeless she kept silent and sat still. She stared blankly to the far grey sky. The boy said some words to soothe her feeling or simply to have a talk. She didn't replied to any of boy's words ever since.

***


*Note:
I feel like this story is just unfinished, but had no more idea to continue...hehehe....
It's written for the writing prompt of Creative Writing Ink.

A Beautiful Boy on a Hill

I could never be able to read your mind. You have big brown eyes--crystal clear. Having those big beautiful eyes, it should be easy to enter through them and then read your mind. But, I don't know what or why I have never been able to read you, not to mention understand you. 

You always come that way: running up to the hill as if someone is waiting for you and you are late. I can feel the spark of hope every time I hear your footsteps getting closer. I think the wild rabbit can also feel that. This rabbit—I don't know how you are connected with him—will also come here as you arrive. You will take him, kiss him, and talk to him as if you two are best friends meeting to have an afternoon tea. But, there is no tea here, no laughter, but the song of birds and certain bugs. Sometimes, you bring carrot for the rabbit. I always wonder if you know that this rabbit doesn't live here, he comes only when you drop by. 

It is always at dusk every time you come here. At first, I thought it's because of the rabbit. Lately, I know or I supposed to know that it's not about the rabbit, nor about the beautiful sunset you can see from this hill. Your beautiful eyes will always wander about the paths leading to train station in the foot of the hill. It’s on the opposite site of where you come from. Sometimes, I see you closing your eyes tight and then saying prayers—I guess. I can tell it from the move of your lips and your hands' language. Afterwards, you will open your eyes slowly and then eagerly stare at the far paths. You will wait a moment and then get disappointed. Once a while, you seem contemplate while staring blankly to the far yellow-reddish sky. The rabbit will stay next to you, eating grasses or simply resting or accompanying you—unnoticed. 

I guess you are nine or ten years old. Most boys your age usually play a kite or play in park or watch TV at home at this time. But you are not typical boy, I think. I know it by looking through your eyes or from the way you stare that path and sunset and those birds flying home. Your eyes hide something I couldn't even guess. 

As the sun slips into the far west, the light of your big beautiful eyes will also off.  I can feel that you are so sad that I want to hug you and say nice words to ease your feeling. I have never had that chance.

You will walk down the hill after kissing the rabbit. The rabbit will soon run and disappear among the bushes. I can hardly feel the spark of hope you bring when you're running up here. 

Seeing you walking down the hill that way, I always wish I could tell you that the time will come. Someday, you can meet someone you're waiting for. You only need to be patient a little bit. When the time is right, everything will be okay, so you shouldn't be that sad. You are a little boy, beautiful boy. You don't deserve to feel the pain. The pain I've never known but I can feel it so strong. Or oftentimes, I really want to let you know that I'm here next to you—that you are not alone. But thinking about it, it makes me even sadder. I'm nothing but an old tree on a hill.

*Note:

written for Creative Writing Ink

My Phobia and You

Yes we know exactly that I'm phobia of heights. Acrophobia, they call it. So, it's not a secret that I will avoid doing anything which will trigger my phobia. I hate balcony. I avoid stepping up second floor let alone looking through the window glass from a room in a second floor, not to mention in a 13th floor and so on. There's no strange that I hate apartment. I prefer spending more hours trip by bus to travelling by airplane. That's why I've never gone that far, unlike you, the most adventurous man and passionate backpacker I've ever known. Maybe, this is one reason of why I fall in love with you. People say we tend to fall in love with ourselves that we see in others, but apart from that we tend also to fall in love with someone who will complete us as persons.

I don't know where you are right now. The last postcard I received from you telling me that you are somewhere in Asia. You said you fall in love to the beautiful scenery around you, the fresh air, the singing of birds you hear every morning, the tropical atmosphere, the local ladies, etc. You even wished that you could live there with me for the rest of your life. You also said that you can't wait to do climbing in the near mountain the next day. You showed me the track you will pass to that mountain; it is on the postcard picture. This bridge--I even couldn't believe people call this frail piece of wood and rope as a bridge--will lead your way to the mountain and to find the climbing spot.

The last line you wrote was a joke saying that next time I should pass this frail bridge to get me you. Smile emoticon. Full stop. Your name.

It has been two months since I received your postcard. You've never made me this long waiting and wondering your story of where you are now, what you feel, where your next heading or plan, the local food and girls, what you do to get some money, how you get lost and find new adventure, how  the rock climbing was, etc.

This postcard is the most read since one month ago, although I suffer from a headache and I always tremble every time I see the picture.

And those symptoms are getting worse when I read your last line words.

***

I don't know what happen to me this morning. When I stared at the bridge, I felt like I will be able to pass this bridge for you. I felt no more headache, trembling, or nausea. Yes, for the first time in my life: I want to pass this bridge, a frail bridge. This thought made my blood rushed faster. I will be able to go by plane. Maybe I need to meet psychiatrist first, but it seems not a big problem. I've never been this brave; I will try my best to pass it, if this bridge really could get me to you.

But, how could I know that you are there waiting?

*Note:

This post is written for the Writing Exercise by Creative Writing Ink and The Tale Teller #3.

The Vacation of Two Angels

Black Angel    :      Do you think somebody will notice that we're angels in disguised?

White Angel   :      We're too old for angels. 

Black Angel    :      Ha..ha...ha...

White Angel   :      Just don't let somebody see our faces.

Black Angel    :      Okay, White. I will listen to your words today. I won't let them.

White Angel  :      But actually, I'm wondering if this is weird to have an umbrella in this beautiful twilight. I'm afraid this umbrella will attract somebody's attention

Black Angel  :    That's okay. People can stand weird strangers more than beautiful angels. It's more dangerous to stand here without umbrellas. They will notice our strangely beautiful and magical faces trapped in old-ladies' bodies.

White Angel   :       Ha...ha... You need to train your magic, so next time, we won't look this weird.

Black Angel     :      Alright. If there's next time. We will be young and beautiful ladies by the seashore.

White Angel   :       Great. I've never known that you can be a good company.

Black Angel     :      Hey, what does it mean, then?!

White Angel  :     You know what, I do enjoy this one-day vacation. Though, still, it's just ironic to spend holiday with an eternal enemy. But I have to admit that I enjoy your company. You can be such nice angel. I hope it will last longer.

Black Angel   :      What will last longer; this holiday or my good behavior? I don't want to think that this holiday has made you forget that we're born as an enemy. You are the good and I'm the evil. It's violation to destiny to change that fact. 

White Angel  :       Don't start an argument, please. Can we just be friend for one day? It's a blessing that God let us to have a little rest. Why don't we enjoy it?

Black Angel    :       Okay, sorry. Hmmm... it's unbelievable I say sorry.

White Angel   :       Black...

Black Angel    :       Okay, White. Okay, as you wish. 

(Silent)

Black Angel    :      Look! The sky is getting redder now. Beautiful, right?

White Angel   :      Yeah, so beautiful. I can't wait to see the sun sets in the vast ocean.

Black Angel    :      Me, too. Well, if I may say the truth, I will never forget today's sunset ever! 

White Angel   :      So do I. It's the best and most beautiful sunset I've ever seen.

Black Angel    :      Don't say that it is because of my company. Huh?

White Angel   :      Ha...ha... I have to say--well, yes... It's one of the reasons.

Black Angel    :      Oh no, I don't like this kind of scene.

White Angel   :      Oh come on, Black... 

Black Angel    :      Yeah, whatever...

White Angel  :       Black, I know it maybe sounds weird to you...; If in the next coming days we're involved in hard battles, can we remind each other about today? So... umm...--I mean...--we shouldn't that hard fighting.

Black Angel    :      What?! What an idea! Do you think I'm stupid? You're trying to make me giving up easier! Unbelievable!

White Angel   :       Black, please... I never think that way. I just hope that you don't that hard on human... on  yourself…

Black Angel    :       So you could win more battles...

White Angel   :       Black! Oh okay, it's my fault! It's so stupid to expect the good Black in an extraordinary day like today, let alone in normal days.

In the meantime, the big red sun slipped into the ocean.

Black Angel    :      Beautiful, huh?

White Angel   :      Yeah... I feel so happy and sad at once seeing this sunset...

Black Angel    :      Well, I feel the same. 

White Angel   :      ...

Black Angel    :      Why starring at me that way? I'm a born evil, White. We have to remember this.

Note:

This post is written for Writing Exercises by Creative Writing Ink.