Sail

by The Sharp Shooter

“I feel old and tired sometimes. Feel like I should sail away from the borders of this world, if only just to find new burdens in another. Do you?”

Sea

by The Sharp Shooter

“Close your eyes. Do you see?”

“This is where we first met. I dug into the earth while you held the seed of this tree, cupped in your hands, like it was the most precious thing in the world. “

“This tree has been waiting everyday, with arms wide open, asking the Sea, if we are coming back.”

Nothing Happens

He leaned back onto the bed, hands behind his head. She too, leaned back on the bed, hands behind her head, right beside him, their elbows touching.

They said not a word to each other, both lost in their own thoughts, in their own world. They have been friends for two years and it seems that they were immensely attracted to each other, but for some reason, nothing ever happened between them. Their relationship was just like how they were in bed, in close proximity, slightly touching but never intertwining.

They were both characters of restraint, each for their own reasons. She wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to be kissed. Why was it sometimes so hard for two people to give love or for that matter lust a chance? It seemed the more the attraction, the harder it was for sparks to fly.

Finally, she sat up and moved off the bed. He held his position, calmly, without saying anything, without doing anything. Ironically, that was exactly why she adored him, for his steadfast calmness.

She put on her trench coat, and got ready to leave. She was willing and able to move on.

“Vanessa?” He said gently and softly.

“Yes?”

“Should I walk you to your car?”

“No, I’m alright. I’ll see you around, maybe. Bye.”

“Bye.”

After she left, he reached for his guitar and began humming a tune:

Out she went and in came loneliness

She said she loves him

He thought,

I’m just a man

Who needs no strings to tie me down

He loves her

But he prefers his journey

Without a ride

After all, we are all alone

After all, we are all alone

Is the Sky Always Blue? (Vignettes)

"Mommy, is the sky always blue?"  Daniel looks up at his mother with bright, round hazel eyes.

"Darling, the sky isn't always blue, but there's always a blue sky somewhere. Sometimes you have to look for your own piece of the blue sky." Vanessa rubs his little forehead.

Vanessa knew that her five year old was too young to understand what she meant, but wondered if these words would make sense someday.

----------

Trekking in the Gobi Desert
Heaven above, Earth below
Stopped for a rest
Alone again, under the infinite blue sky
But that’s quite alright

----------

A handsome gentleman sat down beside her; his boyish masculine face was perfectly symmetrical.  His eyes widened as he saw her.

But she turned away.  She wasn’t paying much attention; she was thinking of many things; growing up in Oslo, university days, the day she met Patrick, starting her own company, selling the company.

She smiled a sad smile to herself; she was tired and hadn't slept.  Just then she felt a warm gentle presence right next to her, she looked, and she realized that he had been trying to talk to her.  He smiled a kind smile and said earnestly, "Got a chance with you?"

She shook her head almost immediately, taken by surprise.

"Well, if you change your mind, here is my number. Don't forget to enjoy the beautiful blue sky, my lovely lady.”  With that, he stood up, and ran for the bus.

She looked wistfully and whispered,  "Goodbye, beautiful stranger.  Thank you for reminding me."

A Bird Must Fly

I watched a seagull as it flew into the blue blanket of a sky
It never wondered why
But it had to fly
A gleam of a crescent smile across its feathered mask
Carousing in the wind with its white bodice
A thousand miles with one haul
The mighty bird must fly

Things You Left Behind

Cary’s eyes followed the sun as it rose, watching intently from his balcony, while the wind swirled around the leaves of the trees below and then brushed past playfully across his face.  Today was going to be a long day; he was moving to Barcelona for two years as senior current affairs journalist for BBC. 

He started counting the number of times he has moved in his life; and very quickly he lost count.  He laughed to himself and thought, “I had better start keeping a record of all my moves if I want to remember where the heck I have been at the end of my life.”

He went inside and sat on his sofa, next to several large open boxes filled with things he wasn’t taking with him.  He ceremonially shuffled through them, bemused by the number of things he had around the apartment that had absolutely no purpose to him.

He leaned back, looked over to the mirror by the wall, and saw his slumped self on the sofa staring back at him.  Every time he moved, he gained some new insight.  This time he realized that he had kept things around that may have once been, or so he thought, a meaningful part of his life, but have now become objects he no longer needed.  That moving on sometimes meant leaving the good and the beautiful, but the needless behind.  And he figured that he should do some moving in his mind.  Being in relationships with beautiful people he didn’t love, the memory of a lover’s kiss, the sound of his first love’s snores...

There was a knock on the door; it was Cary’s dad.  Cary opened the door and hugged him.

“All set, son?”  Cary’s dad asked with a wide smile.

“All set!”  Cary replied.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Cary gave one last hard look around the apartment; suddenly a huge wave of sadness overcame him.   Wishing not to bear the moment any longer, he hastily closed the door behind him, for the final time.

20TH

Dearest Wei Wen,

How have you been, my friend? It has been a while since we corresponded. This year marks the twentieth anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre. I must tell you how happy and surprised this past Sunday, having read in a local newspaper that members within the Chinese Communist Party have signed a letter voicing their desire for political change, for a democratic political system. I am reminded of how far we have come, Wei Wen. We, as a people, who have been oppressed for thousands of years. Millions before us have died for their dream of a life of basic human dignity. Our collective courage and spirit tells me that this dream must inevitably be met. When will freedom be achieved? Perhaps in ten years, perhaps in fifty. But we are closer to freedom every day. I admire you for never giving up, for planting seeds of freedom every day, everywhere you go, in our motherland.

This shall be the last letter I am writing to you. I shall never forget the history that we shared during the protests, and though the candle of freedom will forever burn inside me; my past duties are nearly done and I must now move on and leave the terrors of my past for the benefit of my family and my newborn child.

I hope someday you will visit my family and me in London. And when we meet, I hope we can all sing songs of true peace and freedom.

Sincerely,

Freddie Lee

A Most Bizarre Encounter with a Peacock

Once upon a time, I rode on a peacock, who took me on a journey into an unknown kingdom. I asked this peacock, “Where am I going? And when will my journey end?”

The peacock replied, “When this journey ends, you will know.”

I couldn’t understand what the peacock was trying to say, or where he was taking me. But nevertheless, I had nowhere else to go. So I rode on. A little while further, I asked,” I’m hungry. What will I eat? And when?” to which the peacock replied,” If you will wait, your food will come.” But my food never came. And I was no longer hungry. My mind had wandered somewhere else. We came upon a wall, and I climbed on the peacock’s back and stepped onto the edge of the wall. 

“Bye, Mr. Peacock.”

He turned away and never came back.

I woke up cold and hungry, by the pier below a wide open sky, surrounded by seagulls.

Longing For Someone

He looked at his watch; he didn’t know why, but he was especially nervous today. He looked around, but saw no signs of her yet. He wanted for them to brush past each other again. He wanted to see her smile, a smile that had made his heart skip a beat.

He looked down at his attire, adjusted his tie and brushed the lint off his suit. He brushed his hair back slightly; he wanted her to see the best of him, he wanted to see her smile so badly.