A Cup of Tea For Boys and Girls Ebook

This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Philippines License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/ph/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 171 Second Street, Suite 300, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.
Visit the authors website at http://selene-umi.livejournal.com Comments appreciated: uminaoe_hart@yahoo.com
A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls
A Literary Compilation
from 2009 to 2011 by
Pauline Rae Tan
In loving memory of the souls and the spirits that exist and persist and never perish; the deaf and the blind who left no one behind; the rich and the poor who kept humility pure; the girls and the boys who fought for True Voice; and Everyone and Anyone who forsake no one for someone.
umi
Table of Contents
Classics
Poetry
Rough Divide BLACK or WHITE MILES Kismet Adios Nonino Dont Resist If He Insists Shake, Rattle, Roll, Splat Tabula Rasa Heaven in Peace // Caution: Mountain Sides are Slippery Lost Empire: Reclaimed EAST ASIA NOWHERE Moulin Rouge The Nightmare ROMANCE Our Fathers Land a Battlefield The Missing Cup Long Distance Call Milky Way NIOREH Message LOVE & PEACE 11 12 13 14 15 16 18 19
20 22 23 24 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
Its not about the loneliness Halloween And I Lay My Love on You Waiting by the Sea DIABOLO ~The Devils Temptation~ MAGIA ~The Witchs Response~ And the Sky never ends Resignation; (Not Responding) An Era and More Anywhere Is Restart. Carnal Intensity Another Day to Love Little Lily Subtlety is an Art 160 BPM The Avenue of the Hopeless Unwarranted
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 45 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55
Prose
Can I Not Have a Hamless Sandwich Please? Severo Mela Desolation, My Name Is SECRET ROOM Im Just a Simple MADNESS MAN In waking, lets try to fly in the sky Sinners and Saints Phantom Child 60 63 66 67 69 73 77 87
Theme: Apartment Poetry

Of Scots and Brits Scrambled Eggs for Tiffany Day One and Thirty Six Five On and on goes the broken tape Outside your door, knocking The Boring Life of an Orange Milk Walls have ears as Roofs have eyes When to Stop? Still Life 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100
Mirage I
Prose
Charlie and the Quirky Flat Right in Front of You Jaru kreu mou? (Strange Tongue) 102 105 108
Theme: Travel
Poetry
Genom tid och rum The Twelfth Doctor A Girl We Call Alice Slain by the Sword, Says the Lord God The Missing Light at the End of the Tunnel Rage Awakened INCOGNITO 112 113 114 115 116 118 119 121 132
Mirage II
Prose
In Gods Heaven We Love and Kill Stop, Look, and Listen
Classics
Poetry
You see what I see, you hear what I hear, but you understand not what I understand.
Rough Divide
The land remained barren, the earth too dry to suck in new life. Footsteps lost in the midst of the desert, dust and dirt all there is to feel.
Classics
Thunders rolled, rain fell, blood shed
Onward and onward, flying with the wind The sun continued burning, the air too heavy and hot to breathe in. Soles trudging along, silent musing is all there is to do. Dead end; stalemate The travel stopped, yet the journey continued. Horizon so far away, unreachable, the wasteland is all there is to see. The clouds fled, the sky parted Life began to return, greenery sprouting from lifeless ground. Chirps and tweets all around, curiosity growing with anxiety. A wall; a barricade
A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls 11
Classics
BLACK or WHITE II
A fresco of skeletal pews ahead, No one prays like the dead. A stream of mosaic light from above, Naught a prayer anyone can think of Hail Mary no more can you understand, Never again will the echoes be so grand. Over the sky Helios and his flames soar, Golden chariot through the clouds it tore. Yet below dust and dirt, six feet down under, The cursed souls wails now no more a blur, Ashen planks from the devils fiery pillage Of wondrous horrors like a bludgeoning rage. Walking a trail of blood and bones of saints, Forever left unsung like Raphaels paints. By the sea matrimony shall finally be at rest Torrents of anguished tears divested to the West. Fetal sobs and the good deaths never cease fire, Unrest now reigning best atop the looming spire. What now, if the broken soul may ask, it shall be Forsaken eternally they are lest you plea. But no strings of estranged promises from power That never halt hushed passing can help conquer Liquors bothered from their stowed away cellars, What now, salvation is, to societys unhealed scars?
12
MILES
Drive; wonder The lamp posts, lighted so bright. The side streets, crowded so much. Stop; grumble Slow and steady, dont you remember? Maybe not, maybe yes But who cares; who bothers? No one, and no one else. Go; sigh Finally, you whisper and off you go with naught a care as wind stings your eyes Turn; smash
Classics
13
Classics
KISMET
Soiled, trampled, ruined again it shall ponder one by one, step by step dont think anymore abandon all hope Blow away those meddlesome worries feel again the trembling anguish like the blossoming anger of Achilles scorned and damned sobbing his frail, stout heart dry Decapitate that bud of orchid blooming like daisies in spring yet far from the summer sun can you think again how far it had arrived August rolls in, faint whispers of passing leaves listen, listen, listen let go and free yourself dream eternally as you breathe Festivals never so blithe as now lights never so bright as now dance, sing, laugh carefree soul it shall fly winter left forgotten
14 A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls
Adios Nonino
and here I was, down this yellow brick road with Dorothy and Toto, you might never know then lo and behold, a riverbank I saw crystal rivulets shining as they flow then suddenly a rabbit it brought swirls and grins of a feline it sought Late! Late! Off with my head it is! and there I wonder what trouble brought this. You can go this way and that way, I say and believe, thinking all again What possibly could have gone wrong.
Classics
15
Classics
Dont Resist If He Insists

There is something oddly wonderful With this lovely heart of mine That I am sure not a soul can fool. There is something terribly fine With the face of that man so cool Whose beauty that sure aint sublime. But pray tell what it shall be For I am no swine Who takes no fee To drag down his drawers Image so perfect in my mind And swindle with his flowers Behind this closed door so shut As tight as his nicely shaped butt.
16
Classics
Blankly Critically
I glance at Mike horrified Mike gazes back humored
Dont tell me you dont find it ironic for your disappointment will make me sick. Dumbly I splutter at Mike threatened Engagingly Mike smiles back tempered I truly am blind to this poem of yours like Chiron without his deadly oars. Frantically I retch at Mike scared Gladly Mike reels back satisfied Now enlighten me please or I shall set you in unease. Horribly I look at Mike mortified Innocently Mike laughs back maddened But the theme it does not follow and utterly nay your entry I can allow!
17
Classics
Shake, Rattle, Roll, Splat

Keep your head under the dirt dont look up, dont look down dont look to the left, and definitely dont look to the right. How many prats, have you wondered, actually look anywhere and got their eyes stabbed by a sweet, dear baby maggot? Blasted off into bloody pulps thats what your head will be like if you stuck it just an air out from the earthen soil keeping you down. Dont forget em shotguns loaded and pumped cause youll be very much like hapless blokes waiting round for their saviours might whos actually just a Scot too dumb. Pay more attention on not to breathe especially when you have dilapidated lungs and missing heart stuck in the wrong coffin, cause I assure you, nothings better So duck your head and shut yer trap. No more yapping you can spout cause dead is dead like rat is rat and off you go rolling, buh-bye!
18
Tabula Rasa
A blank canvas white, washed, waiting A colorful palette conspicuous, colored, clashing A flick of wrist slide, stroke, swipe Creation of an image fulfillment of the soul
Classics
19
Classics
Heaven in Peace
Wherever the wind blows, Just wait for that voice to call. Wherever the eagle flies, Just wait for that day to come.

Through the desert you walk and crawl How far can you reach for the sun? Sea breeze of the golden sand, In this land you will once again return.
20
Classics
Thousand miles the soldiers have walked Battle cries whispered to the clouds What more reasons do you need For your crusade to not be of naught?

Toast to the fallen empire As peonies blossom by blood. Destined once again to meet At wherever the eagle has flown, At wherever the wind has blown.
21
Classics
CAuTIoN: Mountain Sides are Slippery
The things we do arent always the things we like; The things we like arent always the things we do. Years and decades are spent to reach it, Lasting only less than the years and decades left, That pinnacle of contentment waiting for a flag. Others dont live long nor strong to reach it; Others give up midway, got tired, Deciding to settle down in the middle of the mountain, Never satisfied, never sad; only empty. Its a mountain of all kinds of rocks. Theres snow, but theres also dirt. Youll slip, youll freeze to death, And obviously youll trip over your own toes And youll end up falling down the mountain. When you get up, start climbing up again. The money for the ticket to climb is nothing. If you look at it, its not whats in your mind; Its just to get in, and you need to get out, But the never-dying question is: How do you get out and off the mountain? Caution: Mountain slides are slipper. Climb with head gears and body pads. Happiness isnt immediate; its in center and out, Never ringing a doorbell nor closing a door, Barging in and leaving like the wind, it is.
Lost Empire: Reclaimed
Classics
Do you dream of the forgotten past, THE Ah, long of crimson peonies and golden silk GREAT had past the fluttering with the spring breeze WALL days of glory. the wild lions, no longer in sight Tribesmen brick walls for shells, remnants they were of glory and pride prickled, in history of the honor and treachery best not be played by maidens with mentioned porcelain skin and no more; ams pain and heart cold as ice. reckon the dre To Then the warriors blood, ah! the came, sent down empires l destroyed Innocence unseen from the Heaven o war it was, future, by the jaded t lost, left; hopeful, Emperor, gone. u fiercely crowned s shining brighter deflowered than the Northern Star. u Let the clouds yo no be our witness, ow matter h the phoenix our guiding light, forever.
tur n
the
tides
g in prince eep sw
e Th ng, tteri s mu poet
ny iro
s ain m re
it is the End.
s dy lord
ing
23
Classics
EAST ASIA
We met without sight, just words of greetings No borders surround us, just visions of future We laughed and cried, without hugging and touching Yet we held on and together, barriers did not exist. The gentle ocean breeze you gallantly boast Life that never ends, a light you always have Stars that shine so bright and yet so fast they die Then there you are again, shining brighter than ever. The line that divides, brought by the impending peace Shadowed by darkness, only blossoming now in rage Pray tell what happened when all you can think of after all these years was unity with your own self. Think not of the gloomy past, missiles dropping like rain Worry not of the stifling present, cherry blossoms fluttering Fear not the fast-approaching future, footsteps soon a blur, For as the sun rises, so do you with pride. Look beyond the horizon, welcome the bright new day The beautiful island it is with the bluest sea and sky Follow the lead of the people through dispute and anger Troubled it may be, yet striving still like a mighty tiger. Long had past the days of glory, reckon the dreams then feel Empires lost and destroyed, the dragon no more in flight However the tides had turned, the irony ultimately remains Brick walls, all that were left, of prickled pride and honor.
Classics
Wherever you and I go, together we still remained Deny it as much as desired, the truth is still there Wanting to see each other soon, once again with feelings That only family can bring and only brothers can have. Five of us there are, each with his own path Eyes as dark as soot, hair as black as ebony In that land we rise, and in that land we fall Nothing else matters, just us in East Asia.
25
Classics
NoWHERE
Have you gone through the yellow door? The guardian just a dead man of no colour, Knocking and slamming heavens gates, Forever crying to the hollow Fates. Cruel reality naught a cent in the Book. The narrow coffin the boy took; Now one again in Mothers embrace, Buried under sullied earthen grace. Red moon crying tears of blood, A maiden so fair yet so sad, Waiting in eternity for the hero That never escaped the death row.
26
Moulin Rouge
Twirl, twirl, Moulin Rouge Happiness at the end of the road Dance, dance, Moulin Rouge Bliss now buried and furrowed. Laugh, laugh, Moulin Rouge Diamonds like mountains glitter Watch out, watch out, Moulin Rouge Before you fall into the gutter. Run, run, Moulin Rouge Dont look back, please, oh no Its coming, its coming, Moulin Rouge Down the trough you now go.
Classics
27
Classics
The Nightmare
Through the tundra you crawl Im the wandering soul you fear Flashing aurora on the wall Im the blind man you hear. Cry your tears of despair Do you dream of salvation The light fluttering in the air The lord gone with passion. The devil of dream comes to visit Embracing you into his lair Dont just stay there in your seat Welcome to the nightmare.
28
RoMANCE
Ill wait for you, Behind this dying tree Ill wear this dress Black and bare; The midnight bride. Let blood pour, The fountain of life Let screams ring, The cry of life; The dreaming bride Drive the knife deep Can you feel my heart Beating and beating; Ah, drive it deeper Feel the blood oozing out This is our cruel romance.
Classics
29
Classics
our Fathers Land a Battlefield

Never once had I looked back The bloodshed and the empty glory Too naive, you used to mock You never listened to my story. No more could I understand, Severed it is, the sacred bond. Walking across this desert Even the sand speaks of solitude; What happens now to the dirt, Its heroic dreams left unpursued. No more could you understand, The red thread now a broken strand.
30
The Missing Cup
Classics
hi, open your eyes real wide wide wide and wider and to the widest you can go for do not blink; just stare until no more you can stare tears collecting like pail and water; then think and think ponder and wonder, awed and amazedah! Realization! is that what I think it is? blessed idea it is, oh joy! and then it falls and falls
it fa lls
fal ling fall ings more
31
Classics
do not let it drop fa lling and fa lling no dont serious ly im not kidding you oh, no ah! uhoh ah nonono oh, stop you lil drop
quick, get the cup before it drops for real it will run out soon have to have some before nones left almost there come on...
32
oh, crap.
Long Distance Call

Hello? Can you hear me? Theres something I want to tell you, something I should tell you now. Im sorry for waking you up. Ive been a good child; everythings fine. Its nothing bad, just something funny. Can you hear me? Are you still there? Stay for a while, just a little while more. It wont take too much, really. Hello? Can you still hear me? Listen, please listen to me one last time so I can tell you Thank you. Its been so long already, Im sorry I cant be there right now. Im sorry it took me this long, I didnt know how to tell you. I think this is going to be the last though, my last Goodnight even if I really dont want to let go. So Ill say it now. I love you, mama Ill be okay. I love you, I really do Ill be brave. I love you, mama I wont give up. I love you, I love you Everything will be fine.
Classics
33
Classics
I still cant make myself say goodnight. This is the last, I know. It hurts so much though, that I cant see you. Even if I really still cant let go, Ill tell you now. I love you, mama I cant hear you anymore. I love you, I really do Ill keep going on. I love you, mama Im letting you go now. I love you, I love you Im going now. No matter what happens from now on, Everything will be alright. No one will hurt me, I wont let them So you can go now, mama. Be at ease, mama, Go in peace. I love you, mama Theres nothing more to say. I love you, I love you Theres nothing else to say. Later then.
MILKY WAY
Have you seen my dream? It was just here with me, dreaming. Have you seen my hope? It was just here with me, hoping. Ive been walking this road for so long Calling out your name again and again But Ive been wondering if I belong In this world that does not rain. Come on, open your eyes You who cannot trust. Come on, whats a surprise If its all mistrust? Dont think you cant fly; A lot of sadness it brings So better give it a try And spread your wings.
Classics
35
Classics
NIoREH
Dripping rain pattering on flesh Tears washed away swirling waste The dead body too much to bear Cruel white pollen it told you so Think no more of your sense of I Perished it is; dream again
36
MESSAGE
Classics
Nothing else matters when all you can see is smoke. The rain falls like tears on your face; Look at the fire, that fire burning everything in its path. Is this what your love song sings about? It is not, and never should it be. You were such an angel with all your dreams. But now that you are awake, you are such a demon. Look behind you and look at what youve done. Is this what your love song speaks of? It is not, and never should it be. All that matters now is what has remained. This world that cannot offer anything else I fear for you and all that will be left behind. Is this what your love song hopes for? It is not, and never should it be.
37
Classics
LoVE & PEACE

Steel tires rolling Fiery powder ablaze Smoke everywhere Forget about it Them soldiers marching Never the same pace Just look for her Then its down the pit Little tykes crying A distorted face Enough to deter Even for just a bit Thunders clapping Stop giving chase It is never fair So lets take a seat
38
Its not about loneliness

It isnt about loneliness; that pain just a moment of rest It isnt about solitude; that silence just temporary Its about being remembered, for not being in your mind hurts. Its about being asked how your day was Its about being told how happy you smile Its not about being alone because being forgotten hurts. I used to wonder if Im still there a part of a reel of memories or if Im now just a mere image. Id like to know if Im still there a solid figure in your memory and not just a part of your past.
Classics
39
Classics
Halloween
Dont get lost in that great, gloomy jungle, boy. You might never come back. Lotsa monster. Yeah, lotsa monsters out there, boy, I tell ya that. Me old bones know. Dont trust those poshy, little snobs, boy. They throw the sweetest stuff at your face But behind ya, its all the nasties. You wouldnt want that now, would ya? They all call me the old grave digger. Well, I call meself just Old Jacky. See? Yah, this is my darling, little baby. Shes always bright and shiny and happy this season. Wanna know why? I bet ya do. They always do. Coz its Halloween, boy. And Im ya guide.
40
And I Lay My Love on You

Sweet sigh trapped in sight, Feel this tender caress, this holy madness. Hold thy breath and take flight. Touch not the ache, the ripe fruit to take, But the high of the night. Red roses blooming like maidens preparing, The right hand moves as princes choose. Ministers planning the preordained bearing, To settle the truce yet only to lose The little seedling of honour sinned. Try as you may to amend edges frayed, The truth remains and the flaw stains. What you not say but rather the unsaid; The royal pains of nobility, hence Let us all lay down the horrid play.
Classics
41
Classics
Waiting by the sea

The flower blooms from a bud, Spreading its petals like the wings Of a newborn chick, trembling, Eager to take flight and soar. He stood guard, watching it bloom, The wind passing through him, An ephemeral soul waiting For salvation yet to come. The midnight bride continues to wait In her black gown at the balcony, Counting the minutes away, broken, Mourning, where, oh where, is her prince the Dark?
42
DIABoLo ~The Devils Temptation~

Heed not the shining ray of light from Heaven above, Salvation is never for you to have. Tearing through this white curtain of aurora, I am the demon in this great tundra. Crawl and beg, search for Pierrot, the insanity carnated; terrifying, is it not? I am the devil that beseech you: Answer for your desires are never too few.
Classics
43
Classics
Magia ~ The Witchs Response ~

I heard your call, such sweet, lustrous voice, like honeyed temptation, you give me no choice. Just wait for me, dear devil, surely I will be yours to unveil. Heaven and Hell can never separate us, So come and welcome me to your palace. I shall wait here, yearning for the fated night for you to steal me away, my wondrous knight.
44
And the Sky never ends

Remember those times when you fail stumble and falling, the pain of losing treasure those moments; never fear; raise your head and look at the horizon. It is certain you are not alone in this world. There is no reason for you to stop All we need is a little faith To keep fighting on, because there it is That shining ray of sunshine Waiting for you to reach out I dont need you to spout such nonsense These defeatist ideas you have No one needs them and neither do you Just believe and fight on Trust that ring of fire on your hand All of those stories and all of those people They dont know whats inside you No matter what happens, stay strong No one knows whats inside you So whatever happens, fight on. All those ears and all those eyes They cant see the real you No matter what happens, the future continues No one can see the real you So whatever happens, move on.
Classics
45
Classics
Resignation;
A well deep sigh that reaches no surface passing on like a drone breathe in breathe out fingers snapped and gone the relapse of colour. Welcome back.
46
(Not Responding)
tens of hundreds of thousands seconds and minutes and hours flip the wrong switch press the wrong key pull the wrong plug; breath snatched, like a thief in the night stolen without a trace let go; dream no more.
Classics
47
Classics
An Era and More

That bespectacled boy in the cupboard under the stairs hand on his lightning scar, waiting; a hero by merely living. The owl arrived, bringing with it a letter that rewrote his life; and into the diagonal alley he goes. There was a boy in the robe shop, Then another boy in the red train, And a young girl, brightest of them all The Boy who Lived once and again, The King and the Brightest Witch of her age, The Boy who made all the Wrong Choices; No one will ever forget them. Never forget either the castle, the singing Hat and the feasts, The ghosts and the elves and their socks, The House Pride and the Snitch, Flying brooms and hippogriffs, Talking snakes and unicorns, Half-giants, centaurs, and werewolves The prince would love to share his tale Only if time permits. Have you heard his tale as youve sung the hymn close to your heart? Or is it the simple glory of an old man always looking for the sweetest of sweets, the taste of bitter forgiveness.
Classics
How about the tale of the Three Brothers, of strength unrivalled yet unfortunate, of love lost and returned and lost once again, of solitude in bliss and freedom from death? They who inspired that lonely child into The Dark Lord hiding and giving chase, his never-ending flight from Death. But never will there be an end; The first two Wars have come to past, yet still here, striving and living: The Muggles and the Death Eaters, The Badgers and the Ravens, The Snakes and the Lions; Always there, always around. It is not the end, never The magic continues.
49
Classics
Anywhere Is
May it be a journey through white snow and green earth the Lord's prayer upon our lips, His blessing a whispered caress on tender hearts and frightful minds. Only time can say when the road ends when the sky clears when the birds fly When our hearts are free. Anywhere you turn to, the ocean or the mountain; Anywhere you go to, the heaven or the shelter Anywhere is.
50
Restart.
Question asked, Answer given, Load. Wait. Loading. Waiting. Still loading... Still waiting... Curiosity piqued, Patience snapped, Click. Wait again. Not responding. Panic! Hesitation: "Please, Lady Luck." Restart. Wait... Load... System corrupt. Restart?
Classics
51
Classics
Carnal Intensity
Hold thy breath and relax, blood pounding with the flesh within. Satiate the hunger, scratch the itch, "More, more, more!" Keep it in, keep it up, Let it go, let it out Another?
52
Another Day to Love

The dogs outside are out again, barking and running around. Another day it is to live waiting for love to be found. The old grandmre is out again, walking with dear grandpre. Another day has come for us waiting for love to appear. Everyday we curse and slap and hit and kick and scream. When we look outside and stop, have we become a theme? But never mind, as usual and always, theres nothing we can get rid of. Its just another day to live, another day to love.
Classics
53
Classics
Little Lily
Little Lily wanted to go out and play, but the other children didnt want her. Little Lily is snotty and dirty, do not want Little Lily, no, no! Poor Little Lily, Unwanted and Unloved, What to do now, Little Lily? Poor you, poor you.
54
Subtlety is an art.
Dear God, I never thought itd be bombs dropping, just like that, you did. Subtlety, I should teach thee lest forever you make me bleed. Stab me not in the back, But dont think you can in the front. Dont deny; it is sensitivity you lack. There still is the wound you love to flaunt.
Classics
55
Classics
160 BPM
Dream not of an angels touch Licks of Flame, touch me not. Dream not of Past revisited Flickering Life, forsake me now. See and hear not the Poverty of heart of mind of soul of life. Set aside the call of the Lord the need the want the hope the desire. Tread lightly on the Pathway to Heaven to Hell to Purgatory to Earth. The world as we know it No more.
56
The Avenue of the Hopeless

You walk down that lane listless and alone, Now knowing wheres down from up. This is the avenue of the hopeless, Never knowing whats there for us. Your shadows the only one living; Everybody else dead and gone. Your hearts the only one beating; Everything else broken and gone. This is the avenue for the hopeless, Lifeless and lost for life. This is the road to No Life, The road to Just Living.
Classics
57
Classics
unwarranted
And Adam runs, blind and deaf, Shadows following and beckoning, spreading like a neverending sea of cold laughter empty, abandoned.
58
Prose
Either we find a way or make one.
Can I Not Have a Hamless Sandwich?
Classics
Theres something about the two breads and the slice of salami and pepperonis that have been stealing too much of my fascination. Maybe its the lack of cucumber. Maybe its the lack of tomato, even if theres a lot of tomato seeds left all over the salamis. But when I tilt my head forty-five degrees to the right, raising the open sandwich six inches above the table, I finally realize what is missing. Ham. There is no ham in my sandwich. I do not like that. I frown, and I frown some more when I see the prat across me eating his sandwich too enthusiastically. How dare he eat so well when I have no bloody ham in my sandwich? We pay the same price for such a food! This is absurd! Definitely unjust! I might as well prostrate myself before the queen and tell her how unfair one of her kingdoms school canteen is being! Slapping the open sandwich close, I hold it close to my chest and march off straight to the canteen managers office. With a curt knock, I wait until the door opens. A second passed, then another, then five, then seven, then ten, then a loud squeal inside the office has me raising my head up and my eyes bulging wide, and then I lost count. Bugger. Now I cant tell the manager how bloody long he has kept me!
Then finally, after another ten seconds (or is it fifteen?), the door of the office opens. The pudgy face of the manager stares down
Classics
at me scornfully, and behind him I can see the scowling registry lady. Maybe he has already been complained by other students as well? Maybe they got sandwiches that have more than just a missing ham? Yes, that has to be it! What do you want, squirt? I frown at such an address, but I must hold my head up high in the name of justice. This sandwich, sir, as you can see, has no ham. And? What do you want me to do about it? I want you to rectify such an error in your employees performances. The fat bloke only scoffs loudly, snorting like a swine almost, before slapping my hand quite insultingly. I can only stare at how my sandwich has gone flying, the two slices of breads coming apart, as well as the salamis and the pepperonis. I can even see how the dressing disentangles in a string of salmon coloured dressing! How dare you, sir?! Shut up, kid, the manager only says before slamming the door at my face. Dumbfounded, I can only stare at the plastic door of the canteens managerial office, my hands shaking, unfeeling as the weight of my hamless sandwich is no more.
Maybe I really should just head straight to the queen and tell her London is beginning to be quite uncouth like the Yankees.
Classics
62
Classics
Severo Mela
The lights are all bright in San Franciscos Chinatown, dragon and lion dances on the street, cars honking at people enjoying the New Year festival. There are bright lanterns hung everywhere, glowing Chinese letters casting shadows over the street. Get him! Guns are passed around as large hotel doors are pushed open. Out swarm the men in black with machine guns and rifles on hand as people continue buying roasted chestnuts and Peking ducks. Dont lose sight of him! People strolling down the streets are unaware of the armed men chasing their now missing hit. A gun is fired, then a boy screams, its cries ignored. Five seconds pass in its usual, festive air, until finally, a glass window shatters and people run for cover, scrambling over each other like ants caught in a rain. The bastards gone! John slams himself against the wall, pushing the Hope Diamond deep into his bloody suits inner pocket. He has thirty minutes to get out of town. His ride should already be at the borders, waiting. That is if someone has not gotten to his ride yet.
Slipping out of the dark alley, he dives straight into the throng of red shirt-wearing people, pulling his coat tighter to cover the obvious blood stain on the front of his shirt. Its not his blood anyway, but it still feels oddly disturbing to have more than three persons blood mixed and plastered against his skin. Hes a few feet away from the Chinatowns arc leading back to the square when a suspicious black car pulls up before him. His hand goes immediately to his back and holds the gun strapped there. The door window rolls down and John tries his best to look uninterested. He turns for the pedestrian crossing. Get in the car, a female voice calls out from the car. He stops in his tracks and stares at the dark-haired woman inside the sleek, black Lamborghini. Not far behind him, thundering footsteps and rough yells of Chinese tear the air as they push civilians and bystanders away.
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John immediately slips inside the offered car, door sliding shut with a soft thud. Next time, he will definitely ask for his rides identity. Both remain in silence. The sound of honks and the cars musicironically, its playing Rihannas Disturbiais the only sound inside the car. The stoplight has turned red but the car drives past it, ignoring the speed camera around the corner. John takes this as his chance and asks his mysterious driver who she is. My name is of no importance. Whats important is that
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diamond inside your pocket. John is surprised. He backs away from the woman, heart beating wildly in fear, and reaches for his gun again. No one other than him and the mission overseer is supposed to know about the diamond, not even his ride. Who are you? he asks again and raises his gun, aiming at her temple. But the woman looks unperturbed. A corner of her lips smirks in amusement. With a quirk of a delicate eyebrow, her eyes narrow and glance at him, as if daring him to shoot. John hesitates, and for that he shall pay dearly with his life. One pale hand disappears from the steering wheel and into her coat. John flounders for his guns trigger before the barrel of a silver Jericho 941 flashes inside the dark car. Blood sprays the passenger seats window with splatters of red as the freshly dead body thumps against the door before rolling out of the car and into the highway, leaving behind a trail of red blood. Back inside the car, Selene balances the Hope Diamond on her palm. It weighs a little heavier than expected, but shes certain it is the real thing. With one last brush of a thumb against its smooth surface, she tosses it inside a purple velvet pouch and speeds out of San Francisco. The White Tigers are going to have a field day once they found out who stole their precious diamond.
Desolation, my name is.
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Green blades of grass bow down to death with each of his passing step, a battle of unspoken emotions raging inside of him. Courage wields its blades against Fear as Trepidation hides away from Uncertainty, Strength lost in the midst of the fight, not knowing anymore which to side. Anger rises above them all, and so does Hatred, who has grown to become Wrath and vows vengeance as Hope lies helpless and defeated at the very bottom like in Pandoras Box, trampled yet again by all of the rest. Not knowing what to feel, not knowing what to think; it is a struggle against the Self where the Soul is at stake. It is a gamble that he must partake and this terrifies his quivering heart. How will he know which is the right path? There is no sign here. What more can pacify the growing anxiety planted deep inside of him, haunting his every thought, creeping in the darkest corner of his mind as he makes each decision, big and small? He does not wish to see the carnage that will be brought upon him by his own emotions. It is like watching the dam cracking under the pressure, like a sack of sand threatening to burst by the seams. He knows neither what to do nor what to feel. All he knows is to run and hide, to cower behind a wall erected by stubborn ignorance. This is not what he wishes, yet it is what Fate has given him. What more can he do?
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SECRET RooM
The wind shifted the moment you drop your cigarette. Smoke clouded your mind as it clouded my sight, yet nothing else mattered. Just your eyes, just your lips. You hate me, you said so, but you are still here, next to me. You wanted to fly like a butterfly. You wanted to be free. Your words only hurt me so. Your eyes; they burn me with the cruellest flame. I only wanted you to be mine and only mine. No, nothing else should matter. Not anymore. Your grip on my arm only served as a distant reminder, yet I want you to know this is exactly how I want us to be together. I dont want you to leave, not when everything between us is like this. Crumbling and distorted; why cant you understand? I know your pain and your fear as you know mine. We fit each other so well, yet you never pay this fact any heed. Why is that so? Why are you afraid? No, do not deny it. I can see it in your eyes, your shaking, trembling eyes. Dont cry. Stop it. Dont cry, my sweetest babe. It only hurts me so. I just want you to stay with me. Why cant you understand? Do you not love me at all? Why cant you stay with me? Love prevails all, and this, my dearest, is love. So smile. Smile for me. Smile your sweetest smile. I want to keep you in my heart, locked away from everybody else. Dont struggle. It will only hurt. Ah, no. Thats not how it should go. Please, hold still. Dont. Dont hate me for this. I just want you to listen to me. Be mine and
mine alone.
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I only want you to sing for me and for me alone. Yes! Thats it! Sing! Sing your heart out, sing your sorrows out! Your lovely ballads are the comfort to my aching heart, the salve to this bleeding wound. I want you to pour all of your love into me, for I know your love is enough to seal this gaping hole in me. You are enough to make me one again, so be mine and only mine. It is enough. Together, we do not need anyone anymore. Ah, nobody else. Nobody else at all.
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Im Just a Simple MADNESS MAN

He stared at the large sketchpad on his desk. A desk lamp stood at the edge of the table, casting yellow light good enough for his eyes. A full well of ink sat next to the blank sketchpad, untouched for the past three hours. His lips twisted in frustration. Not a thought entered his mind. Only voicesspectral voices drifting in and out, whispering and screaming until he couldnt differentiate one from the other. Is this what you wanted? one of the voice rasped angrily. He scratched his head, right hand toying with the body of his old calligraphy pen. Heaven knows why he insisted on using calligraphy for this. Are you honest? another voice asked, gasping each word with a dying breath. It kept repeating itself again and again until he waved his hand next to his ear, shooing the voice away. What was he supposed to say? Something groaned above him, but he ignored the urge to look up. He had something else much more important to tend tolike this. The sketchpad remained empty, and it wasnt going to fill itself up with something pretty or pleasing. I wanna be like a dog! a shrill voice screeched behind him. Let us all be dogs! He bit his bottom lip, and he frowned when he realized the
paper in front of him wasnt blank anymore. The nib of his pen was dripping ink, creating a large black spot on the edge of the page. His eyes narrowed, a great annoyance welling up inside of him at the sight of what he had apparently just made. Dogs! Let us all be dogs!
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A large print of the word dog was all over the paper, the curve of the gs tail beyond the paper. His otherwise clean desk had an ugly curve line in the middle of it, and the more he stare at it and ask himself if this was truly happening, the more his shirt would be stained black with ink as well. He ripped the page off the pad, crumpling it into a ball before throwing it into the trashcan. Dipping the pen in the ink well, he began to think of something else to say, something that will actually make sense. Razmatazz! Razzmatazz! The voice kept on screaming and screeching, howling like a mad dog. With this rate of insanity, hed never be able to put a single word of endearment into this love letter. When the light from his desk lamp suddenly flickered, the very thin, frayed strand of patience in him snapped, and away with it his sanity went. His mind whirled into nothingness as his hand flew all over the table, the nib of the pen scratching loudly against paper, black ink painting it a beautiful yet macabre message of love straight from his pounding heart. Only when his mind stirred back into the
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conscious world did he feel what had happened. His heart was still ramming itself against his ribcage, wanting to free itself from its stifling cage. Then he looked down and stared at his newest creation. All over the paper, words lay on top of each other, curls and dots and lines overlapping until nothing else made sense. It was terrible, so terrible it propelled him off his seat, his hands ripping it off the pad with more rage than before. Throw it away! Throw it away! the voice above him screeched, and he supposed he would have since that was what he had in mind. But the stubborn side in him sparked to life, taking hold immediately just for the sake of annoying the voices with its rebelliousness. He stared long and hard at the creation of his unconscious mind. Terrible, it still was, and he honestly didnt know what he was doing. Humouring his other self, yes. Wasting time, maybe. Nothing else but those though, he realized. For another glorious minute, he stared at the pathetic excuse of an art on hand. Take it! Take it! The voice above him was screeching again, and it took every bit of his willpower not to throw anything at it. Then finally, like a switch being flicked on, his eyes widened in surprise and awe. Right there, on the very paper stained with black ink, the non-existent love letter turned massacred, abstract calligraphy painting displayed the very wish in him that
kept pushing and prodding against his mental defences. Please take this love letter. Im just a simple MADNESS man.
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72
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In waking, lets try to fly in the sky

Its beautiful, this drifting snowonly its not really snow, but ash birthed by this worldly terror. Knowing this ruins the otherwise pretty picture of serenity, reminding me once again of what has become of us. Youre in your designated spot, shaded by a boulder that previously is someone elses home, the dust showering us as the rain of ash covers every patch of bloodied earth. And as I sit here in own corner, I watch you wilt away, your hand holding a faded photograph, a corner of it charred black. It seems like the only thing you have left in the world, and perhaps it is, so dearly and tenderly you cherish it. Where have your thoughts wandered to now that both of our guns lay forgotten in the midst of this border-torn battlefield? This armistice is almost as precious as gold, short-lived it surely will be. I still cannot make myself approach you, and I am certain so do you. I am afraid now that I have seen the bigger picture, so afraid of what else may happen. Darkness continues to loom over the horizon; the wind blows harder, a tempest against the passing shadows of fighter planes dropping missiles like they weight naught a ton. The thought of all this dust settling down and bright sunflower buds and grass sprouting and turning this mass of grey green almost makes me smile. It does make a lovely image, yes? I am sure it does. To be able to believe that some time in our uncertain tomorrow we can witness and enjoy such rare moment of peace somehow lifts my forlorn spirit up even for just a second.
I should go.
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Your soft whisper is enough to bring me back to the world of now, and I know for a fact that you dont have to move an inch of your body for half of your soul has already departed. Do you find it hard to leave your place in this world? I know I do. It is inevitable for me to want and cling to what remains of this tiny shred of life inside of me despite what the bleak future holds. Funny that it does not used to be this hard. Then again, nothing has ever been difficult. Everything used to be all smiles and laughter and holding hands and friendly hugs. All of us are comrades then, neighbours, friends, brothers, lovers; men of free will and nonexisting divides, that much is true. Years of so much happiness and sadness have passed, promises forged then mended, and yet here we are now, out in the front of opposite battle sides, risking lives for people who may never have a taste of what we fight for. Everything still leads back to this. I will forever be that person with wings clipped, unable to fly away, and you, he who can never stand again, crippled and broken. Life... is this truly it? If so, then I feel thoroughly cheated. Will I see you again? I must ask, and there goes the last of my hope when you smiled wistfully at me, because your smile tells me of so many unspoken wishes that I know cannot paint a rose-filled garden, not in a time like this. Hopeful dreams, I like to call them. With no words left in mind, I simply nod back as I
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ultimately let the tears well up in my eyes. I slowly come to realize that I pity us so much that my heart clenches in pain. We have only known each other for a while but it already feels like a lifetime. Theres not much I can do but smile like a brave youth putting on his boots and fixing his bag, preparing for a bigger and better world, although I know there is neither a bigger nor better world waiting for me anymore. Just the next world, and only that. I wonder if well end up in the same world. Your sheltered faith tells you to go up as mine compels me to move on. Lets meet again in our next life. My heart ultimately shatters as I let the dam burst. I am crying, I know, but now that you have finally faced me and show me the contented happiness with just your cracked lips, everything is alright. Even soldiers have the right to cry. Everything will be fine, right? I want to ask, simply for the sake of a reassurance. It is only your dying smile that keeps me from doing so. You breathe your last breath, and I keep my silence and let my tears speak for me. Later then. That is our final farewell, and your eyes finally closed and your angels carry you to heaven up above. And I stay behind, right here in our shared shelter, waiting for my own
moment to arrive. We may not end up in the same place, but I hope with whatever is left of me that the next time we come back here, we will meet again. And if we do, let us meet under a clear, blue sky.
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76
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Sinners and Saints

He never told her what had changed his mind. He thought it was better not to tell. He knew, above anything else, that everything would change if she knew. It did for him, and it shouldnt for her. Itd be unfair. Yeah, itd be too unfair. She didnt deserve it. After all these years, she deserved better. He only wished he could be that, that something better. She thought he was, but he knew he wasnt. He could never be anymore.
j
It happened some time in November, when the wind was blowing too hard and it felt too chilly it brought shivers to his spine. Clara went out again with her friends, down to the pub for a pint. She had asked him if he wanted to go with her. He told her no, that hed rather stay at home and away from the cold, because they both knew he couldnt handle the cold weather, not after almost dying from it last year. It was a pathetic excuse, but she bought it anyway. He couldnt hope for anything else. For an hour then he didnt do anything. He just sat on the couch, socked feet atop an
arm, and stared at the clock above the fireplace. Only a few minutes before nine. They had agreed to meet on ten, at Marios. Still an hour to go. He wondered if Clara would be back by then. He hoped not.
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He idled away by lying on the couch, counting the minutes away. Hed like to say he was thrilled, or at the least anxious, but he didnt want to lie. He just felt like it was something he had to get over with, like a job he couldnt wait to finish. Sadly, it was a job that would never end.
j
The neon light of Marios was gaudy at its best and just tasteless at its worst. He didnt know why Mario insisted of such a design, as if going around in drag wasnt enough. It was five minutes to ten, and he was to meet Louis on ten, at the alley behind Marios. He took his time, letting some boy obviously new to the scene use him as an excuse to get in. Once upon a time, he was just like that boy, too. Always eager to jump into the pool and enjoy the wild ride of this side of life. It did not last long, apparently. He had cowered, too fearful of consequences and responsibilities and threats. Hed like to call it self-preservation, but judging from how hed jump from bar to bar, club to club, cubicles to cubicles, exchanging bodily fluids with random faceless men behind
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his fiances back, he doubted it. It never stopped him though. Hed still come back here, in his horrible sweaters and unwashed denims, waiting for some man hed decided to see again and perhaps do something more than just frotting, because honestly, there is so much more he can do beyond something that adolescent. Life in Marios doesnt start until eleven, when the children are safely tucked in their monsterless beds and the wives are lulled into sleep. By the time it was midnight, thered barely be a light left and all the faces would be blurred and you wouldnt know anymore who youre snogging or fucking. Thered only be aimless groping and pushing. It didnt take him long to reach the back of the club. Louis was already there when he opened the back alley door, with a blond kid on his knees going down on him and clearly enjoying sucking cock a lot. He ignored the stirring in his groin, the already present heat there turning into a burn, and watched the sharp inhale and exhale of the man. The tightening grip, that sudden bucking of hips and the clenching of arse that he knew Louis was doing were signs of his cresting. And indeed they were. There was nothing else he enjoyed more than the sight of orgasmic bliss, whether his when he tossed off in the bathroom or his partners when he had the luxury to watch, and out of all he had fooled around with, Louis was the best and his most favourite. That pinching of eyebrows, the slackening of jaw, the silent scream coming
from within and the squinting of those blue eyes, as if he was trying his best to keep his eyes open through his orgasm; that face always made him come without being touched. Not even Clara and her keening cries and her tightening channel could pull such a reaction from him.
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The boy had pulled away when he came, splattering spunk all over his face. Whore, he instantly thought as he watched the boy allowed Louis to rub his softening prick on his cheeks, his sharp nose and closed eyes, spreading the white fluids as if it was a trophy. It must have felt like triumph for the boy, to be able to bring an older, more experienced man off with just his mouth. Give me ten minutes and a drink and we can do it again. Im sure hed like to have your cock while I fuck him, Louis said with a chuckle. The boy looked puzzled and gave him a confused stare. Ah, that bastard. I was actually hoping itd just be the two of us. He bit his lips to stop the smile when the boy jumped at the sound of his voice. What... But I dont think Id oppose to a threesome. Louis laughed his damnable laugh, his rich, baritone voice
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always ringing with sex.
Of course you wont. He rubbed a thumb over the boys pouty lips before pushing it in. The boys throat flexed. Whore. Hes probably sucking that finger like hed sucked cock. Perhaps youd like to have a go at him now? How much did you pay him? He couldnt help but ask as he watched the boy with great scorn who was now swirling his tongue on Louis thumb. A thumb became two fingers and soon, the two fingers became three, plunging in and out of the boys mouth, drool dribbling from the corners of the boys mouth as fast his moans. He wondered vaguely if the boy had come yet. Louis grabbed the boys chin with his other hand then turned him around without warning, pushing the boy onto all fours, trousers taut on a pair of arsecheeks. Fuck, he swore as he noticed that particular shade of trousers and the hint of white socks. Louis grinned, salivawet fingers probing the boys cloth-covered arsehole. Theyre always eager for a fuck. Thought youd enjoy a good virgin arse.
Yeah, but in an alley?
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He didnt know why he decided to bother about the setting. A fuck is always a fuck, nothing more, nothing less. He definitely never bothered about it before. He could count the number of times he was fucked and fucked in turn without knowing the others face. Louis was only one of the few whose name he actually bothered to know and remember, simply because Louis was a good fuck and he always liked a good fuck. Louis stared at him with a raised eyebrow, probably laughing at him. He had never sounded so stupid. Yeah, in an alley.
j
Apparently, buggering the living lights out of a sixteen year old boy who sneaked out from some boarding school for the rich didnt mean anything to Louis other than another good virgin arse to fuck, as he so succinctly put it. He watched the head of his cock slipping into the boys saliva-slick hole as across him Louis twined his hair in pale locks, his grip soft. It was tight. Very, very tight, as expected of a lily-white arse that had never felt more than just a curious finger or two. Shifting, he grabbed the boys undulating hips with both hands, plunging his cock deeper. He felt the boy squirm. He
pulled out slowly then thrust harder, balls slapping pale arse with the sticky sound of sweaty flesh. Fuck, yeah. He could hear Louis groans, rambling words so dirty itd fit for porno without pause. The hot channel wrapped around his cock tightened as Louis words turned dirtier and his voice louder and he pounded the boys arse harder and faster, his own breath quickening. He could feel his balls drawing up, hands sweaty, and everything became tighter. He lost touch with reality as the only thing in mind was reaching that peak, that white light in the back of his eyelids, the end of the tunnel and fuck, fuck, fuck He grunted and gasped and pushed as deep as he could as heat erupted everywhere and he couldnt feel anything anymore but that heat and wetness and that blinding light and he couldnt hear anything, not anymore, until slowly, coldness sweeps in and the heavy smell of sweat and sex mixed with rotting vegetable and piss and he opened his eyes to a panting sixteen year old kid on his knees, face and hair matted with spunk. His eyes trailed down to the blushing red arsehole dripping of semen mixed with a hint of blood. The boy was the perfect image of debauchery. He wondered how the brat felt to be fucked by two strangers in a dark alleyway. He would have called it rape if the boy hadnt clearly gotten off from the experience. Hed painted the concrete ground really white.
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Zipping his trousers, Louis stepped away from the boy, his hands already digging into his pockets for a fag. His eyes widened when Louis threw paper bills at the boy instead.
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Next time you feel like getting screwed like a whore, you know where to go to, Louis said. And then Louis went back inside without another glance at him or the boy. He didnt want to admit it, but for that moment there he felt incomparably insignificant and worse than the boy. Grumbling, he tucked his limp prick back in his pants, pulling zipper up and buckling belt in haste. He was about to rush back into the club and perhaps have a word with Louis when the boy groaned loudly. He honestly didnt want to deal with a newly deflowered teenager. You all right there? he asked, voice gruff and hoarse. The boy nodded. Sore, he mumbled. Must be frowning, not that he could see with the kids bowed head facing away from him. Theres always that for the first time. He almost winced when the boys shoulders tensed. He didnt want to sound too cold about it, considering he was the one who did the actual arse buggering, but then again.
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He didnt even know he was defending himself.
Not wanting to be involved anymore, he quickly stepped away.
j
In the end, he wasnt able to find Louis. No, wait. He found Louis, he did, but Louis didnt want him anymore, not when he was in the mens loo and receiving another blowjob, this time from a fit-looking black man. Louis never liked getting his knees dirty. Hed suck a cock only if you force it into his mouth which isnt such a good idea, really, since the man never hesitates to use some teeth. But he got the point anyway. Louis didnt need him tonight, not anymore. And besides, he doubted he could it up again. That kid had wrung quite a lot from him. He came home to an empty, quiet house. Clara still wasnt back, probably still at the pub getting trashed with her friends or at some cheap motel fucking with her friends boyfriend. Nigel had told him last month she was quite tight for a tart, as they had come to call her when shes facing the other way, though her keening cries were a bit disturbing. It had felt like having sex with a bird, Nigel said. He chose not to comment about it lest words reached
Claras friend. He just shrugged and said, Sex is sex. What do you expect? Clara didnt arrive home until it was already two. He didnt bother pretending sleep as she didnt bother hiding the scent of pot.
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He stirred onto his side when she slipped into bed, warm, naked skin brushing against his. Their legs tangled together under the covers. He could smell Nigels scene in her hair. Had fun? he murmured. Mm... A soft snore followed. He sighed before wrapping an arm around her lithe form. And finally, he slept.
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Phantom Child
She gasps as her chest heaves with each short breath. The splatters of red on the white bathroom floor are too bright. Her hand clutches the slight swell of her belly, as if it could keep the growing body inside of her intact. The last thing she sees before the bathroom blurs into darkness is her unborn child crying.
j
There are wordless voices droning above her, spats thrown at each other heatedly. She could tell the distinct sound of Francis rich voice. When she opens her eyes, she is greeted by the sight of Franciss stubbly chin. You should shave, she wants to say. Her throat constricts at the effort until she chokes, gagging, and she almost loses consciousness again until someone turns her onto her side and rubs her back. ...Too close... If you hadnt... ...Gentlemen... ...out!
There are too many voices rising over another. She couldnt tell anymore which is which. The only sound she could here is the wail of her child searching for his mother.
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j
Outside, men shove sea of snow off their driveways as frosts continue to fall. A never ending cycle of shoving and piling; it annoys her. Behind her, Francis watches her back. It has been too close, the doctor said. If he hadnt found her on time, she would have died. She ignores him just as shes been doing since she remembered what happened, that morning (or afternoon) in the hospital. She doesnt know when shell stop. She only knows that she still cant face him. The only thing she could look at now are the snow and the white lines on her wrists and arms and belly. He doesnt let her leave the bedroom anymore. The other day he did and she had snuck into the kitchen for a glass of water. There was no glass to be found, only plastic and paper cups. She doesnt miss the lack of knives or forks. The windows are the only thing remotely made of glass left in the house. Even the mirror in the bathroom has been removed. The bathroom downstairs that Francis uses is locked. She figures he must have moved all of his toiletries there, because even his razor isnt lying next to her toothbrush anymore.
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She still hasnt spoken. If she could, she doesnt know. Francis hasnt tried talking to her since they settled back. Hes too afraid of picking her wounds and she doesnt have the impetus to think of a word to say. He watches her watch the snow outside. There are times when he would lay a hand on her shoulder, but those moments have become rare and rarer until she cannot remember what his palm feels like anymore. She touches her belly, her hand cupping the swell there just as a heavy hand touches her shoulder and squeezes. Another hand covers hers, pulling it away from her belly. She can feel something rough scraping against her neck and her jaw, rubbing, as if scratching an itch. Her eyes remain watching the falling snow as wet sobs drench her hair and her neck with tears. I can feel her kicking. She laughs. She can feel a bright smile splitting her face. Behind her, clutching her tightly, Francis cries.
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Mirage
Theme: Apartment
Poetry
If you want to live, aim high. If you want to win, fight harder.
of Scots and Brits

In my tiny velvet box so bloody With stones still stuck in my body, Plucked out with shiny plies Sweet owner left to rot with London flies. Sent to the station, shivering me dear Them o Scottish brows up in fear, cept one brave soldier high in drugs Never the one to wave white flags. Tagged me was with this little note From Hell its master I quote, Them o English blokes choke out loud Bye-bye they say to scones gone cold. Five pretty lassies, poorer up to no end One of them me master is friend, And even when the Tower rings its bell, Together they get to say farewell.
Mirage I
92
Mirage I
Scrambled Eggs for Tiffany

Off, off, get off of me, Stop hanging onto me, No, no, I dont like you Filthy little drop of goo, Clinging for dear life, no more Please drop it onto the floor. Horrible! Bleeding yet again Nothing but a cramping pain, Then out like a torrent the water flows Flailing now the sapling and its claws, Lets think now what to do With this body now on due.
93
Day one and Thirty Six Five

You woke up to the sound of thudding bed, shrill cries and screams of harder and faster still clueless why no one ever bother. You left with an empty bag and emptier stomach, Expectation Bin since long sheltering dust layer upon layer of wasted chances and dreams.
Mirage I
You arrived to a class of senseless chatter, nothing in mind but skirts, studs and sex that wooden cross above no more but a decoration. You came home to a place that is not a home, merely a convenience, a place to rest your tired body a large box of pests and piss, of trivialities, and You went to sleep dead like a log, unaware of the new round of cries and screams unmindful of the new still-same tiresome cycle.
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Mirage I
on and on goes the broken tape

There were times when things become unbearable, the stifling air, the heaving breaths, the stale stench of acid and sweat. You never knew when it started, never knew when it ended was there an end? Doubtful, a broken tape, it is, on and on. Four walls, each with their own mark of decay, a roof over your head, stained, like your flood made of piss. Convenience, they call it, but not much, really, when its always like that, everyday, dirty and sad, every time. On and on; on and on, like a broken record, a broken tape.
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outside your door, knocking

Rows of window with slivers of light, a stray soul strolling silently Opened doors yet uninviting, the treacherous thief tearing through Ignoring danger behind thin walls of wood, all unfeeling under universal uppers.
Mirage I
96
Mirage I
The Boring Life of an orange Milk

There was once a carton of milk, its orange liquid as smooth as silk. It lived alone by the cheap ref door, its plastic cap somewhere round the floor. Its miserable but fulfilling, living every day, always giving, never once gratitude returned, like that poor sausage losing its turn. Every day is a dark countdown, alone in the dark, scared of The Frown. The last thing it really wanted: to the cruel cat it shall be fed.
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Walls have ears as Roofs have eyes

They spoke once of ladies in white painting walls and haunting stairs, Of poltergeists always in flight throwing pots and blocking ways. They whispered once of priests in red staining walls and changing stairs, Of fathers very much well-fed throwing whips and blinding ways. They fought once of freedom in chain breaking walls and climbing stairs, of Democracy painted over the pain throwing dreams and hiding ways. They disappeared once, never to be seen again; Hush, hush; what now are they?
Mirage I
98
Mirage I
When to Stop?
You always wonder bout the bloke next door going around with his mad occult stuffs, then you remember the stranger bloke downstairs and his gang of pink girls and plush. You always go out early in the morning, every single one afraid of the boss because you know hes the type wholl gladly throw a nice cup of coffee right at your head. You always serve your customers with a smile, even if it always make your stomach queasy; those boys and girls coming in packs and drinking pretentious coffees that arent really coffee at all. You always leave the shop happily for your flat, enjoying the bachelor life with just an instant noodle, the bucket of scones and fingers long forgotten; its just you and your instant noodle. You always like it this way, this quiet and lonely life even if the bloke next door is too creepy, even if the bloke down stairs is too freaky, even if youve already been tempted more than once.
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Still Life
This here is a tree a tree with its roots so deep as it stands so free strong and mighty as it stands yet never be the one that dreams like the soft reed that bends to the will of its Mother. Now this tree is what I caught in this picture that I still cannot fathom why it lacks the rapture of emotions within Is it from the many wounds? Always reopening; Never healing; Reck oning crimes yet again thoughtlessly, foolishlyGod! done by foolish children of earth, and let everything remain in a stagnant rest
Mirage I
100
Prose
The good thing about bad things is that bad things can be turned into good things.
Charlie and the Quirky Flat
Mirage I
Charlie didnt like moving in to a new flat. Then again, its not like he had much of a choice; his previous landlord was a complete madman, although hes a very far cry from his new landlady. She looked like a witch, complete with the hag laugh. She reminded him very much of the Wicked Witch of the West. Looking up, he stared at the bright neon sign of St. Jeremys Dorm. He should be scared, Charlie thought upon arrival, because for one, he didnt think theres actually a saint that goes by that name, two being that pair of strange blokes just outside the flats porch, one hand inside the others trousers. He couldnt see clearly, and it might just be his eyes playing tricks on him, but he didnt want to know any more just what that hand was truly fishing for. With a loud huff, Charlie trudged into the building, two large bags and one small bag over his shoulder. He managed to find his room only after stumbling into three and a half wrong tries. Oddly enough, there were three doors and a smaller one, around the size of a dog house, that had the same door number, and there are no two doors arranged in the correct numerical order. Charlie didnt like his new mandatory home, especially when his room mate happened to be a creepy nerd, complete with the nerdy glasses and the nerdy obsession with Star Trek. Hullo there, nerdy boy greeted creepily, who Charlie later
Mirage I
knew was Kevin. Youre new here, Kevin continued as if its the most shocking discovery of the decade. Five minutes and seven doors to the right after, Charlie learned Kevin was the best in stating the obvious, and thats the only thing he can do. In one of those seven doors is Room 4 Bs, so called because it belongs to Bernie, not Bernie and his room mate. Charlie didnt like Bernie much, even if Bernie is the only person in the entire establishment who keeps unexpired food. Maybe its because Bernie likes labelling everything with Bernies, including his lesser known room mate, Kelly, who happens to be a bloke with a peculiar name and even more peculiar taste in food. Unlike Bernie, Charlie likes Kelly though to a certain limit. Beyond that limit is Kellys penchant of quoting his professors, not highly respected philosophers, whose reputation, knowledge and sanity Charlie highly doubted. Before Charlie can truly settle down though, his rooms door got knocked down by a whirlwind of red and blue that he later realized were two very identical albeit different beings. AS expected, every single place in the world has to have its own fair share of the Twins. The Twins introduced themselves as Patrick and Paul, named after worlds saintly beings because of their saintly waysnot. Before they disappeared as fast as they had arrived, Charlie found himself missing a can of tuna and two deodorants, as well as facing a broken door. Kevin had to call Miss Stephanie the Landlady who lives in the west side of the building to call April the Maintenance to fix the door.
Minutes turned to hours and after three gruesome hours spent with Kevin talking endlessly about stuffs nerds talked about, Charlie finally admitted defeat and decided he will sleep even without his privacy.
Mirage I
The night wasnt his most memorable night nor was it even comforting. Its quite the contrary, in fact. It just so happened Lady Luck was smiling down on him the morning after as he woke up to a brand new door, a cold bowl of Fruit Loops and enough hot water for a good, long shower. Charlie was genuinely happy. Very much so indeed that he decided to be nice to Kevin and greet him with a bright sunny smile. Pity though that he didnt get to do it, as Bernie decided that morning to claim his room as his, Kevins already claimed as Kevin is quite the pathetic bullymagnet. And that the Twins have stolen his newest and only pair of underpants. Charlie didnt like his new home, even with Bernie knocked out and the Twins locked in their room. But at least he earned himself a smart but hypertensive butler and the biggest supply of unexpired food, courtesy of Kelly.
104
Mirage I
Right in Front of You

The sound of sirens outside pulled me out of my meditative trance. When I opened my eyes, my roommate John had already run out of the room to check on it, leaving our window open. I stood up and walked to it, peering at the commotion downstairs. An ambulance was parked some yards away from the dormitory buildings door. The hysteric nun from the next door ladies dormitory was at the other side, probably narrating the events to the policemen present. I could see John in the midst of curious people there as the medics rolled what appeared to be a guy, still in uniform, bleeding to death into the ambulance. A minute later, it drove away, leaving the policemen behind at the crime scene. I closed the window softly, tugging the curtains closed as well. It had become much of a fad lately, these people being either beaten to death or outright murdered inside their own room. John was quite shaken up by this string of murders that he even added a new lock to our door. I, on the other hand, am still quite neutral about it. Whats there to fear, anyway? Were of no fault, and Im sure someone so bland and dull like John could barely attract anyones attention. The professors could barely recognize his existence, to be frank. John returned to the room, his face still flushed and eyes so delirious no focus can be set. Customarily, I prompted him to speak up, knowing how much he was dying to just tell me what had happened, and how he was still so sure he might be next. A wonder it truly is, to witness someone being
delusional all the while drowning himself in anxiety.
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You wouldnt believe it! He started with a wild hand gesture. T-The strange, weird psychic kid from the Art block? Yeah, him! It was him! Completely got his neck slit! Humor me, please, I bluntly deadpanned him. John didnt look offended at all with my reaction, as expected. Delusional, didnt I tell you? Yeah? Well, you know what? They said its the same killer again! Totally going ballistic and apecrap on us! They even sent the detectives in! It was so cool, you know? I even get to ask for some protection, and some insurance, you know? Who knows I might really be the next one? And as usual, I rolled my eyes, turning away from him so I could attend to other worthier tasks, which wasnt that hard to find. Oh, come on Zack! You never know the killer might strike tomorrow! Oror next week! Or even later! Who knows he might be on a roll! John, no serial killers would bother with you. Thats what you think, Zack! Thats what you think! I swear to you and to every deity and saint and god that that killer is out for my blood! He stormed away without much of a fuss as I continued working on my much neglected report. Darkness blanketed
Mirage I
the room, not truly much to my surprise, as I know John didnt really give a rats head on whether or not Im still working. Sometimes, I wonder if hes truly psychotic. He had this bad and annoying tendency of forgetting other people existed. I must admit: his delusion sprees are just too much to the point that I lose my control and just want to strangle the air out of him. Its just a pity hes not the next one on the list.
107
Jaru kreu mou? (Strange Tongue)
Mirage I
Golden eyes stared at the monochromatic scene below, at an egg-shaped head bent low, baring its fat neck. He couldnt quite remember why he ended up in this place again. The too bright wall and too bright lights werent the most pleasing sight, and neither was the dastardly clean carpeted floor. He didnt like the texture of the carpet, and even more not the grainy feeling of the wall beneath his digits. He longed for the darkly lit sewers, where he can wander around as he pleases, taking minute licks and sucks here and there. Somehow, he had a nasty feeling he might truly lose his already clipped tail in this place. His brother had just lost his head earlier this morning by the door. Snapped right through the bone. He could remember how his brothers shocked eyes bulged when his head dropped to the floor unceremoniously as his decapitated body was left between the door edge and the doorframe. He wished that wont be the case with him. Maybe losing his tail might actually be better, although he would be very restricted to the floors and the bottom half of a wall. Lque! Le kroc gue hreu nau? His head snapped to the side. A darkly capped head approached the egg-shaped head, a thick stick of some sort on hand. Om jhou mruk que fryw?
Mirage I
Ghreu wek mou. Bektuk hrue dasu! From what little he could understand of this strange language, the capped head was apparently asking what the egg-shaped head was doing. He lost the translation to the egg heads usually used excuse, but from what he can see, capped head wasnt happy with the answer. His eyes bulged a little when the capped head raised its stick, ready to smash the egg head open. Will a yolk come out of that head? He wished it would. He had seen how that egg-shaped head had cracked an egg open on his last visit here. Very nasty. Jamtuk krue nau! Este frau manu mruk! Glecki hasdi mou! Ghreu wek! Ghreu wek! Jaktu manu ei! Manu ei! Ah, pity. Egg head left its spot. He duly noted how the capped head one turned and followed the egg head, probably making sure that wherever egg head went to, it wouldnt come back to this place. Not that anyone would like to come back here, of course. This place was awfully dreadful, and he knew no sane reptiles would like to be bared against such a pristine wall.
109
Mirage
Theme: TRAVEL
Poetry
Warnings dont come with a warning.
Genom tid och rum

flip the cover and search until the stain is found this blot marring the page do not attempt to plunge the ocean in which flows trembling inasmuch dirge jump from era to era the error of the past of which remains the mark running underneath meltdown the genom
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keep trying cant erase so unclean deep into the Lifestream a troubled leaf falling denial exists to empty the filled of soiled, barren earth cant undo the post hoc of the leech farawar into the infinity through and above the stream of shifting time and space
neverending tid och
hunt rum
112
Mirage II
The Twelfth Doctor

He who speaks of dying emperors, of castles and maidens and warriors He who fights the fiery dragon, the headless knight and the black witch; Leave the box empty and wait for the ageless man to return. He who resides at the other side, the hunter and protector and lover He who guards the unsuspecting Gate the hero reborn infinitely; Keep the severed hand and treasure it for the ageless man shall return.
113
A Girl We Call Alice

There was once a girl we all call Alice, the girl with long, golden hair and a jolly face. We met at the edge of Wonderland, and again through the looking glass. You may remember her as the curious girl, But I remember her as the terrible darling who puts her head in all the wrong places, That silly little girl who just cant learn. Makes you wish she can keep away, aye? But here she is, yet again, the petulant brat never growing up, always young and free when were all old, gnarled and stooped like dead old trees: that curious little creature we all call Alice
Mirage II
114
Mirage II
Slain by the Sword, Said the Lord God

Think not of dreams of spent time inkstain a stamp on skin, a tattoo; Dwindling till naught a drift linger Look beyond oceans and mountains The desert just a seconds walk, sandals worn with sweat and blood. Hark! comes the tears of rage, the angel no longer welcoming, like Saraquel and the ruined seraphs ploughing pure virgin innocence; time now an alchemy of life and decease I see what you see no more. The wish that no longer holds; A prayer never spoken in words that dwells deep in moral decay in the future and beyond that I see: Raise thy sword as I beseech you, tis the Lord God says as I say.
115
The Missing Light at the End of the Tunnel

Sky torn, blood scattered like dust, Touch the soiled earth, and my heart crumbles; So much given, yet so little taken. Lost children, everywhere, crying: Where is Papa? Where is Mama? I do not know. I fear, I fear. Pause, and observe. What is missing? What is missing? I do not know. I fear, I fear. Fast forward, rewind. PauseStop. But who knows? I do not know. Doomed, We are doomed. Thus snow falls in this desert, The No Mans Land, barren and wasted Abandoned. Fallen heroes, everywhere, crying: Who will save us? Who will save us? I do not know, I do not know.
Mirage II
Mirage II
I fear,
I fear.
And so let us pray: May God save the King, may God save the Queen. But who will save us? Pray tell; Who will save the people?
117
Rage Awakened
Sleeping Monster, Like a child yearning for its mothers milk. Eyes wide open, Lay it down on its cradle of filth. Sacrificed like Abel, Yet its soul even darker than Cain. Climb the mountain, Behold. Vultures hunting, scavengers they are, Searching for the missing piece of meat, The infantile flesh of power Invincible and unrivalled. No one dares to leap; No one can be Perseus. Try if you will, But leave behind your conscience of iron. Never mind temptation; There is so much to be done.
Mirage II
118
Mirage II
INCoGNITo
Turn your head, Stare; whisper. Hold thy breath, Fear is no option. Strike like thunder, Roar; pounce. Such is chaos, The death of order. Bid your farewell, Smile; wave.
119
Prose
People are like seasons. You change and learn how to move on. But most importantly, you learn to let go so something else can come in.
In Gods Heaven We Love and Kill
Mirage II
He stared at the grey sky through the tiny hole in the dumpsters lid, sheltered from the acid rain. His stomach still couldnt stop grumbling in hunger. How long ago was his last meal? He didnt know. Couldnt even remember the date. No one kept track of time anymore, not when the world had stopped moving since the Third War. Life as he knew it now was grey, the black and the white and all the colours the Hausbesetzer always talked about in awe just a faint murmur of the past. How long are we going to stay here? He had never wanted to be in this city in the first place if it wasnt for the sudden wipe-out that he had barely escaped from. If the soldiers had not discovered his name was missing in the registry, he would still be inside that abandoned flat back in Berlin, a nonexistent spectre in the midst of war. If he had known the Fhrer wouldnt spare this city like the rest of the British territories, he wouldnt have chosen this place as his new settlement. Until the rain go away. Goes. Its goes away, not go away. He frowned and turned away. Maybe it was right. The poisonous rain was never lifted away, not since that terrible explosion that bombed this city. It was as if the sky itself
Mirage II
absorbed the explosion, saving the already blasted earth from further destruction, and now the heaven was paying humanity its due by pouring whatever poison it was given down on the people of this cruel worldor whatever that was left of it. Humanity as he knew it no longer existed in this world.
j
What are you thinking of? You. Me? Me. You? A slight pause, then a shifting of weight, and then a sigh. Outside, the acid rain continued melting every mass of matter. Us. What about us? That, he couldnt answer. He had forgotten it, his answer. Maybe it was not that important for him to reckon correctly. No, wait. He remembered it now.
Why are we one?
Mirage II
He heard a laugh from the other sidehis other sidesoft and gentle; amused, most likely. Because we are two. His lips twisted into another frown. It hurts his face a lot whenever he frowns, the muscles stretching hisno, their already stretched skin. He hadnt seen much people in this world, but he did see some who were like him in his current predicament. He couldnt believe people here had to share not just their home and food but their bodies as well. It was befuddling. Thats not what I meant. I know. He wished he wasnt so stupid, so stupid to run away. He knew if he had not run away, he must be somewhere in Mutters room, throwing away some of her things, particularly the expensive ones just to piss her off. But he was here now, in a world he could barely recognize, where the animals are monsters humans are vultures, every being of life divided between predators and preys, heroes and villains, creator and destroyer, God and Devil. He shouldnt have moved out of his hiding place. Look at where he had ended up. If he had grabbed that last string of patience in him, he would be still be somewhere in the West. Either famished or struggling from death, but at least
Mirage II
he would still be alive and whole. He would still be wholly himself. Its because you cant leave me alone in the rain. He should have known everything in this world leads to death. A cruel, lonely death spent with someone unknown, someone that had ceased existingsomeone he deeply regretted ever meeting. The irony of it only twisted the knife already stuck between two of his broken ribs. But youre too nice. Somehow, he also knew that. I like that. He didnt though. He hated it.
j
His other selfwhatever its name waswas right. The pitter-patter of the rain didnt stop. His fingers (just his) itched to lift the lid of the dumpster and see more than just what his tiny peephole can offer. He had wanted to stick a finger out, just his tiniest one, but he would only be stopped midway because he didnt have complete control over histheir (he should stop forgetting this new fact) body anymore. Spoilsport. That was what his other self had always been since he met the prat. On the rarest, gloomiest moment of
his thinking inside this cramped dumpster, he regretted ever approaching his other self. God knew why he had stepped out of his hideout with just a tiny umbrella that was slowly being eaten away by the raining acid for protection. Rather, some semblance of it, since the rain had done a good job of rendering it perfectly useless by the time he managed to get under the steel roof (also melting, he reckoned) of a heavily vandalized bus terminal. That was when he saw itthat annoying prat, its skin already melting like wax, pores oozing green fumes and the nasty odour that frequently accompanies the whole, dreadful process of melting body. He had prayed to whatever deity (or the Fhrer, as he had learned when he arrived in this unknown world) then to spare him from a similar fate. Of all places he wanted to end his life in, he didnt want it to be in this apocalyptic world. For once in his life, he wished Mutter was around. At least she would know how to comfort him.
Mirage II
j
The rain finally stopped just when he was about to fall asleep. A sharp prick on his phantom nape and the sudden stretch of skin of his sides jolted him wide awake. He threw himself forward as if to get away from the sharp prickling only to be pulled back by an unseen force. What The rain! It stopped!
Mirage II
It was excited. His other self must be excited by the notion of seeing the Sun. Had it not learnt its lesson yet? Lets get out! Quick! No, wait He could barely grasp hold of the situation until he could not anymore, not when his other self was more than adamant to get out and see the purple sky and the rare light bursting over the horizon. If his other self was as old as him, then it must have never seen the Sun at all. No one in this world had, unless they are over a hundred years old and by then, they would be nothing but ash already. They only knew the light created by thousands of connected wires and not the light that came from a real ball of blazing fire. He heard a loud bang; the lid of the dumpster flew open by an enthusiastic push from his other self. He couldnt see anything from his side, not when his other self was taking reins of the control now, but he did see, for the first time, his shadowtheir combined shadow. And then he heard nothing but that too familiar scream of excruciating pain. He screamed as well, his arms pulled back as his back bowed forward, almost bending by the waist. His face was smothered in a mountain of filthy plastic bags and trash and he could not breathe at all, suffocating, in fact, and all he could think of was that terrible scream, that Fhrer-forbidden wail that only told him nothing but a warning of a slow, agonizing death.
He did not want death. He feared it. The mere thought of it sent a cold shudder of horror up his spine until he became nothing but a shivering pillar of flesh, crawling and clawing for safety. His breath hitched as that searing sensation spread all over his body and burned him from the inside, his very essence of life stolen breath by breath. And then he began to feel it. That burning feeling as if he was being fried alive, that burning fire licking every inch of his body and melting him like he was naught but a butter left inside the oven. He could hear the tick tick tick of the timer, counting down the remaining seconds of his life. It burns, and it burns like hell and Scheie, it burns, make it stop! It burns! No more, go away
Mirage II
j
Im vierten Jahr der Neuen Preuischen Reich All eyes were glued to the tiny screen, the colours nothing but grey and black and white. It was a crucial moment for them, the Middle class. All of their ears were perked up in attentiveness, capturing every word of the Fhrer and imprinting it into their respective minds to make it clearer. They ignored the ruckus of the useless squatters outside as their world narrowed into that of the face of the Fhrer and His words. der Krieg gegen den Kontinent ist vun vorbei Someone sobbed as another poor soul threw himself down
Mirage II
onto the concrete floor in despair, smashing his bloody head open till death bereft him of life. And with just three, simple words, every shred of hope left in their shrivelled hearts vanished into the thin, wretched air, misery and anguish all that remained for them to hold on to. Sieg ist unser. And then everything was over, the distant whine of melting metal falling outside being the last thing they heard before complete annihilation claimed them. Doomed; all of them, the entire world. Not even the Queen could save them from the Apocalypse.
j
It had been quite some time since he had that dream. Or rather, recall the memory that was not his. It belonged to his other self whose presence he only realized too belatedly was missing. His back hurt. But at least he could feel his back now, right? They must be two again and not one anymore. is, as you say, quite a peculiar predicament. I have not seen anything like it. Seen what? His other self? Do you reckon it is safe?
Do you reckon it is safe?
Mirage II
Odd. Whatever else could not be safe these days? Nothing was in his place, even more so in this place riddled with warfare. Oh, I do not know for certain. Natural mutation can never be trusted. No, not at all. I doubt this is the case of a natural mutation, Professor. It seems akin to that experiment, from the Second War... Well, at least now he could tell they were not Preussen judging from their posh accent that reminded him all too much of his other half. And then the voices hushed down again, their enunciation so different from his that he knew he was technically in the enemies lair. Then again, he had always been in the enemies lair, being the pitiful, cowardly Hausbesetzer that he had become. Shame. It can be quite the specimen for a new study. Are you daft? This horrid... thing? We might as well start our own seeing that they already made quite a grand job with it! Something poked him, angrily and hard enough for him to feel through the haziness. He groanedor tried to. A jaw muscle twitched, and then he tried again. Alas, nothing happened. Something kept his
Mirage II
mouth tightly shut, and when he tried to open his mouth or stick his tongue out, he met resistance. So he tried opening his eyes. Again, nothing happened. Only pain, and nothing else but pain. Faintly, he heard hurried whispers and raspy breaths, probably exclamations, and none of them could explain the queer emptiness in his head. He could only try feeling every part of his body until he realized there was nothing to tell anymore. And then the sensation in his back disappeared, and he could not differentiate his arm from his leg. The lack of sight did not help at all. He hoped whatever that had happened to his other self would not happen to him as well. He knew now its terrible fate. Too unkind for a poor man like him. Its gaining consciousness! Bless the Queen! Quick! Get the tranquilizer before it does us any harm! He was about to panic as well until something sharp and prickly like a needle stabbed him somewherehe couldnt tell where, not with this heady cloud of blankness all over himand then as twitchy as his muscles had become, they gradually calmed down, slackening into jelly until he could not feel them anymore. And soon, that darkness he saw became nothing, and nothing remained. Madness must have settled upon the world now. Victory always brings madness with it, like how Liebe is forever
Eifersuchts twin. They always said the Fhrer was mad; an old, lunatic buffoon that spares no one. Not even his sight was spared; he, a boy who ran far, far away and landed in a world that was not his, a world that knew not of monotony but of crazed warfare and manifested poison. Now all that was left in him was his mind. Just his mind; his empty, useless mind that was beginning to slowly fade away to oblivion.
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131
Mirage II
Stop, Look, and Listen

It happened so fast I could barely stop the train of thought. The flash of light, the sudden tremor of the ground, the dizzying spell that followed shortly thereafter; no one moved and nothing moved. Time had stopped. I just knew it. The guard was frozen in his run as the K-9 dogs bark was lost in the air. The temperature was as cold as a freezer; my skin prickled from the coldness of it as gravity disappeared. The falling elevator that should have crashed onto the ground by now remained tilted and stationary in the air, frozen in time, floating just above a wrongly placed confectionary stand. A poor girl, barely ten, clung tight to her mother who in turn held on to the railing inside the metal box, their faces the perfect of tragedy. Just say the word. The gigantic plastic clown hanging from a string twisted and turned, head defying the laws of matter as it pulled itself up and grinned wickedly, white, empty eyes blinking into life amid the disturbance in the time stream. You just have to say the word, you know. Come on. I came all the way out here just to hear you out. I bit my tongue before the word could even slip out. I can already hear it in your head. Come on. Say it. Say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, I know you want to, say it,
come on, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, dont be shy, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it
Mirage II
The coppery taste of blood flooded the insides of my mouth, yet I ignored the stinging pain that sent my nerves aflame. Beyond the tears gathering just around the corners of my eyes, I shook my head wildly, willing all the thoughts away. One wrong thought and something worse could have happened. No? Oh, come on! Dont be like that! Toll fees dont come cheap, you know. This is your chance! Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, say it, say it, I thought you want to be a hero, come on, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, say it, just say it, come on, come on, say it The terribly aggravating chant continued on and I clenched my eyes tightly shut, blocking every sense out of consciousness. Darkness was already looming nearby, waiting for me to lower my guard and strike when the time was finally right. I kept my vigil strong though and pushed every thought, everything away. But what was the point? What was the point of ignoring it, denying the chance when it was already there? It was wishful thinking on my part, and I knew, I knew very well that this shall forever be left out in the hollow pages of history, just a faint whisper shared among demons and angels and whatnots that exist beyond the corporeality. It was not my duty to rewrite history or change the preordained. I am not to change anything, as the law of the
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fates dictate. No. I am just a spectator like everybody else. I am not to acknowledge this, this wretched gift of which is not mine to command. It is simply mine to possess and not to use. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa NO. I spoke, louder and clearer than I had ever spoken in my life, and like a great gust of wind sweeping in, everything cleared away. A security guard roughly pushed me aside as a pack of dogs followed, barking mad. Screams and shrieks and wails of fear and terror burst out of every pair of lungs from all corners of the mall. I remained still in my spot, observing, a witness forever to the constant changes occurring in the world. Time is frozen in my world, even as seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn to hours and the sun rises and sets. But it had returned to the outside world, reality rearing its ugly head into the world without mercy. Glasses smashed into pieces as unwary flesh was pierced and life was nabbed at its bud. The air finally entered my lungs and my diaphragm expanded, the blood now flowing freely out of my mouth, and everything once again move without pause.
Time resumed.
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A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Pauline Rae Tan

Theme: Apartment Poetry

In Gods Heaven We Love and Kill Stop, Look, and Listen

Thunders rolled, rain fell, blood shed

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Dont Resist If He Insists

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

I glance at Mike horrified Mike gazes back humored

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Shake, Rattle, Roll, Splat

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

CAuTIoN: Mountain Sides are Slippery

Lost Empire: Reclaimed

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

e Th ng, tteri s mu poet

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

our Fathers Land a Battlefield

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

The Missing Cup

fal ling fall ings more

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Long Distance Call

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

LoVE & PEACE

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Its not about loneliness

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

And I Lay My Love on You

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Waiting by the sea

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

DIABoLo ~The Devils Temptation~

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Magia ~ The Witchs Response ~

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

And the Sky never ends

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

An Era and More

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

Another Day to Love

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls

A Cup of Tea for Boys and Girls