“Next stop, Central Station, the end of the road, as far as we go.” The robotic Siri-like voice announced.Continue reading “Sunday Writing Prompt – The End of the Road”
I opened my eyes and felt my heart leap from my chest as I stared into the foggy abyss. I am acrophobic. Who’s idea is this?Continue reading “Photo Challenge #357: The Dream”
All his life, he had known only one thing – go big or go home. In elementary school, he created the biggest piece of artwork, folded the largest paper crane, and even attempted to bring his teacher the largest gift he could find. Fast forward, he graduated college with a degree in fine arts and an aspiration to become the next Michelanglo – to create the most magnificent sculpture that would be viewed by passerby.Continue reading “Photo Challenge #356: Go Big or Go Home”
Sitting at the edge at the bathtub, naked, bald, one hand clutching a bottle of bourbon, the other a bottle of pills, Alex felt sad, alone, and lost.Continue reading “Tale Weaver #315: The Bald Man”
She opened her eyes and sat up. Where am I? What is this place? She wondered as she looked out the window of the house. The house was surrounded by wheat fields.Continue reading “Photo Challenge #354: Together at Last”
In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, this week’s MMLM Sunday Writing Prompt is “A Story of Love.“Continue reading “Sunday Writing Prompt – A Story of Love”
This week’s prompt MMLM Sunday Writing Prompt is “Driving.“
Based on actual events…
“Did your sister call you?” I asked my mom when I met her in the stairwell for our afternoon walk.
Mom shook her head, “No, why?”
“She called me this morning, asking some very random, weird questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
My brows knitted together, “I couldn’t really understand her. She was whispering.”
“Oh, I think I know what she was calling about.” Mom said when we reached the first floor. “Isn’t she taking her driver license test today? She’s probably calling to ask you for answers.”
“What?” I shrieked. “She can’t do that.”
“Oh, just help her, won’t you?”
“Help her? Doesn’t she know ‘Cheaters never win?'”
That was my aunt’s 4th attempt at her driver license test. She would go on for another 6 attempts before passing the written test on her 9th attempt. As for the road test, even with over 10 years of driving experience in China, it took her 3 attempts to pass the road test. This is proof of karma and the phrase, “cheater never prosper.”
The drawing was blinding. I couldn’t even touch it, let alone look at it. This is what I spent $500 for? I was expecting scandalizing photographs, detailing all those mysterious hours my husband has spent away on his so-called “work trips”. I was definitely not expecting this.Continue reading “Photo Challenge #350: Caught in Action”
I am looking for post ideas to post on Mondays. So I decided to take a peek in my Writing Challenge list (a list of blog sites for writing challenges) on my WP reader and decided to take a crack at this one. Hope you enjoy.Continue reading “MMLM Sunday Writing Prompt – Two Minds at Loggerheads”
I have never trusted anyone. My whole life, I’ve known only one thing – people lie. People cheat, break promises, betray one’s trust, and never do the things they say they would do.Continue reading “Photo Challenge #349: Love, Trust, and Promises”
“All right, children, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Mrs. Fields asked her kindergartners. Emily’s hand shot high, “Yes, Emily?” Continue reading “Photo Challenge #143: Happy at Last”
“Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. I think it’s in my basement…let me go upstairs and check. – M.C. Escher
Her face is plastered on every wall in Manhattan. “Missing Person, $5 million reward if found.” Continue reading “Photo Challenge #134: Missing Person”
The town of White Chapel has known for its supernatural activities and freakish and sudden deaths, though hardly anyone knows the real reason behind this myth. Continue reading “Photo Challenge #120: White Chapel”
They sit down across from one another, Continue reading “Writing Prompt #165: Free”
Elle and Emily ran playfully along the beach. It’s been such a long time since either of them had done it and it’s certainly been a long time since Elle wore anything that’s not black. “Em, where are you going? Slow down!” Elle called but Emily kept running and laughing, her blue dress floated in the air behind her.
Five steps ahead, Emily turned and smiled, “Come on, Elle, if you want me, you’ll have to catch me.”
Elle stopped, placed both hands on her knees, catching her breath. “Em…I…can’t.”
Emily had stopped running and now, she was walking backwards, “Sure you can, Elle. All you have to do is find your inner strength.” Her voice echoed as she faded away, “Find your inner strength.”
“Em!” Elle screamed, lurching into a upright position on her bed.
“Another bad dream?” A voice said beside her as her fiance joined her. She nodded, threw herself against his chest, and burst into tears. She tried to speak but her fiance softly stroke her hair and whispered, “Shh, don’t say anything. I know.”
A response to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge.
Months after I finished my first gig, I received a second gig. “Seriously?” I shrieked happily when I received a phone call from an artist’s agent. The agent paused as I recovered my professionalism. “Yes, I am interested in the job. Is there a date you have in mind?” The agent read off a date. I spent a moment calculating the schedule in my mind. “Yes, that is possible.”
A week later, with a vision in mind, I, along with a group of makeup artists, costume designers, camera men, and assistants, stood on the streets of downtown, ready to shoot a music video. “Okay,” I said to Mustache Earl, the main camera man. “Place a green screen against that wall. We will do a snapshot right now and another shot as she walks by.” He nodded and quickly directed his interns to perform those tasks. I didn’t tell him I’m planning on plastering the wall with the word “love” in post-production. No need. They will see it when the video comes out on YouTube.
After about two hours, the first shots were done. “Go get the warehouse set up for the next few shots,” I informed the team. “I’ll meet you there in about two hours.” I have some errands to run.
While everybody packed up, I got in my car and began driving around town, a Polaroid and a regular camera rested on the passenger seat. I drove fast into the suburbs, searching for the perfect locations but not before making a pit stop at the gas station and bought a dream-catcher. It’ll be pivotal for the video. As I drove through the suburbs, I began to feel disappointed because none of the houses had what I need, a wooden fence. The fences were either plastic or wrought iron. I parked the car at the corner of some street and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. “What am I going to do?” I said.
The answer came to me naturally. Of course, my parents’ house. They live about fifteen minutes away and have a wooden fence. Perfect! And didn’t I put that emerald heart-shaped gem in the fence? Even more perfect.
“Where is the director?!” I heard the singer scream as I entered the warehouse, out of breath. She was already in costume, black shorts and navy-blue t-shirt.
“I’m here.” I clapped my hands. “Are we ready to shoot this thing?” Everyone grumbled an answer. “All right. This is the beginning scene. It’s summer and you’re lying on the floor there, daydream, looking bored. Your best friend has gone away for the summer.” From my bag, I pulled out the Polaroid pictures I took and scattered onto the floor. “When I say action, heave a long sigh, full of boredom, and the music will begin. Pick up a few pictures around you and look at it but please, keep lying down.” I ran back to my chair and shouted, “Action!”
She heaved a sigh as instructed and as the music began, she stared up at the camera and mouthed the first phrase, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” The second she finished the first verse, I yelled “Cut!” and instantaneously, the music stopped and the singer let her legs down. “That was great.” I praised the singer as Earl adjusted the camera. “For the next few shots, you’ll stand up, happily and joyfully sing the chorus and keep in mind that this is a dream.”
We wrapped the second verse and two choruses with her moving about her room, stuffing random things into her bag, and leaving. “All right,” I told the Stacy, the set designer. “Modify this for the best friend’s bedroom.” I handed her the dream-catcher. “Hang this over the bed.” She nodded and thirty minutes of moving and rearranging later, the set was done. “Okay, this is the last scene. In this scene, you’re climbing into your best friend’s bedroom through the window.” I pointed to the window. “Glance at the dream-catcher and then sit down next to the bed. Beneath the bed is a box of vinyl record. Take the records out one by one and scatter them on the floor while singing the bridge. Get emotional as you hit that last note.”
An hour and five takes later, we were at last complete. “That’s a wrap, people.” I shouted as everyone cheered. This is going to be a wonderful video.
A response for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Writing Prompt #159
“No, please don’t mom.” Kendra pleaded as her mother drove along the winding country road. Continue reading “Tale Weaver #65: The Witch’s Mansion”
Alex looks around, shaking her head, no, this can’t be real, this is a dream, she thinks. She is standing in the middle of the woods, wearing what looks like a black kimono. Continue reading “Photo Challenge #112: The Dream”
Thirty minutes before her wedding, Dahlia found her ear pressed against the back-wall of the closet in her room as she intensely listened to the conversation between her future-husband, Scott, and maid-of-honor, Nikki, that was happening in the next door. Continue reading “Photo Challenge #111: 30 Minutes Before…”
Why do all good things end in tragedies? Continue reading “Writing Prompt #144: Why?”
Continued from “The Mark“
On his way to the terminal, he finally found her. He approached the window of what looked like a new boutique, at least one he’s never seen even with his frequent visits to the airport. The mannequin in the shop window wore a very short black dress and its face was covered with a veil but he recognized the mannequin’s hands anywhere. The countless time he’d held them in his own and how many times he had touched it with his lips. Those were her hands which means he had found her.
Quickly, he took out his phone and dialed the police sergeant he met several nights ago. The moment the line went through, he blurted, “I think I found her.”
“Where?” The police sergeant answered in a bored voice.
“At the airport.”
“All right, don’t go anywhere. We’re coming.” Heart pounding and overwhelmed with emotions, he crossed the busy path to the Starbucks. He sat down and checked his watch. Still have an hour, he thought.
He stared at the mannequin. “Who would do this?” He asked himself, “Who could be so perverted?” Couldn’t anyone tell that it was a real person? Couldn’t anyone tell that it’s a woman who’s been murdered in cold-blood? He became so lost in his thoughts that when his phone vibrated in his hand, he jumped, letting it fly out and land on the floor. “Hello?”
“Where are you? I’m here.” Said the police sergeant.
“I’m coming.” He grabbed the handle of the suitcase, stood up, and exited Starbucks. “And you’re sure that this is her?” The police sergeant asked, glancing at the mannequin with speculation.
“Yes, I know those hands anywhere but if you want to confirm my suspicion, all you have to do is look for the birthmark.”
“All right.” Together, they entered the boutique. The shop was lit brightly with sleek white ceramic floors. Everything, shirts, pants, and even skirts, was neatly folded and placed in either the cubicles along the walls or on staircase-like displays. They approached the check register. “Excuse me but are you the shop owner.”
“Yes,” the woman in a stylish ivory business suit and pony-tail replied with a smile, “how may I help you gentlemen?”
“Excuse me but I’m wondering if I can take a look at that mannequin?” The police sergeant pointed at the window.
The woman frowned. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” the police sergeant lied, “I’d just like to confirm something. It’s for a case I’m working on. I hope you won’t mind. It’s got to do with mannequins in general.”
“No, go ahead.”
“Thank you,” the police sergeant said.
They hurried to the window, both of them stood on either side of the mannequin, and slowly and carefully, the police sergeant lifted the skirt. He gasped. It was fainter than before but he could see it, a mark in the shape of a star on the upper right thigh. It was her, his beloved, dead, and modified by chemicals. “It’s her,” He told the police sergeant who nodded.
Carefully, they took a step back and that’s when they both heard the loud cock. “Don’t you dare move.” The shop owner said pointing a gun at his head.
A response to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge.