Short Story: An Empty Plot of Land

I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.

It sees the past.

Imagine a house in the middle. Two stories high, but not too big, so there’s plenty of space for all kinds of plants. And it’ll be open for people to come and go. A community garden.”

No doubt, my friend says this to an empty plot of land, but what I see is a completely different scene.

In the same plot of land once stood a small farm filled with smiles and visitors. Some came to help, others came for help, but no one was ever turned away.

I smile.

“That sounds good.

~End~

 

Genre: fantasy

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Short Story: Pep Talk

He threw his arms grandly in the air.

“You will grow up to accomplish great things. You will stand above the rest, bear much fruit-”

His sister walked past. He froze, his arms in mid-gesture.

“Are you giving a pep talk… to the pepper plant?” she asked.

He looked down at the little sprout in the planter box, then back up at her.

“… Yes?”

Her gaze flicked up to his raised hands, then slid away without a word.

“I see.”

She left, and he was alone with the little sprout once more. Face warm, he lowered his arms and gave the sprout an awkward pat.

“Yeah. Don’t die.”

And he scrambled back into his house.

~End~

 

Genre: slice of life

Short Story: Forlorn Stranger

A girl sat forlornly at the park bench, a piece of paper cradled in her hands.

The other parkgoers discreetly passed her, giving her some space. Once out of earshot, the speculations began.

“Maybe she lost her first love.”

“Must have lost her job.”

“Could be cancer. The poor dear.”

If anyone had bothered to ask, however, they would have discovered that the piece of paper was a free voucher to an exquisite meat buffet.

Expired yesterday.

~End~

Genre: slice of life

Short Story: Riddle My Morning

Related to Morning Conundrum.

 

Every morning, no thanks to her dad, she woke to an annoying alarm that wouldn’t stop until she solved a riddle. It was unnecessary. It was frustrating.

And she might have figured out how to avoid it.

Her dad could program riddles into alarm clock because it had the capacity for it. So what if she used a basic, analogue alarm clock instead? Her dad couldn’t program a system that didn’t exist.

She happily set her alarm and settled down to sleep.

The next morning, she woke to a strangely muffled sound. When she opened her eyes, it wasn’t to an alarm clock on her bedside table but a locked box with a piece of paper stuck to it.

What number can you subtract half from to obtain a result of zero?

What number huh zero?

She rubbed her eyes with a groan.

That was it. Time to buy a lock for her room.

~End~

 

Genre: slice of life

Short Story: Make Me Strong

The adventurers approached her with the same intentions.

“Make me strong.”

But none wanted to pay the price.

“Three months? That’s too long. Our main focus is to go back home.”

This one, however, was different.

“Three months. We might have found our way home by then, but if not, I can make a difference.” Determined eyes looked up. “I can afford three months. Please, make me strong.”

She nodded. “Follow me. We start today.”

Three months, and the impatient fools would see what they had missed out on.

She looked forward to the day.

~End~

 

Genre: fantasy

 

Goal of Logical Dreams: December Recap + January goals

Happy 2019!

During the last month of 2018, my goal was to post something every day.

That didn’t happen. I spent most of the last half of December traveling, and ended up taking a break from writing as well. Moral of the story is to prepare extra posts beforehand rather than expecting to be able to write after a whole day out.

A whole year is a long time to plan for, so I’m just going to stick to monthly resolutions. I’ll aim for one post every two days, while building up backup posts for when I may not be able to post.

Hope you’re having a great start to the year!

Short Story: In Shambles

Genre: superhero

The supervillain’s plans were in shambles. In every way possible, they had beaten him.

So why was he laughing?

“You may have have won the battle, but I won the war,” the supervillain declared right before he vanished into the ground.

They shook the words off as the empty boast of a defeated supervillain while they help to clean up some loose ends. It was only after they returned to their base that they discovered the supervillain’s true plan.

In their absence, they’re base had been broken into and left in shambles. A white note stood out on the single undamaged table.

Have fun cleaning up.

~End~

Short Story: Royal Family History

Genre: fantasy
Related to King Father.

 

Kemch’s royal family history was one that was told again and again until it was written in the heart of every child.

“The royal family began just like any other family, but when crisis came it was King Aiden who stepped up to rally the people, and they in turn appointed him as their leader, and eventually king.”

Prince Liam, in disguise to mingle uninterrupted in the market, listened to the storyteller from afar.

There were many kings and queens who had ruled Kemch, too many to share about in one sitting. Only the most exciting and notable deeds were retold. Liam knew his grandfather had a place in Kemch’s history as the king who stopped a war by hosting a dinner, and his father had achieved so many great works that the story could tell a session filled just with his father’s tales.

How would I be remembered? Liam wondered as the familiar stories of his ancestors were presented one after another.

But the royal family didn’t get to choose what they were remembered for. That was the privilege of the people. So if he wanted a place among his ancestors, he better do something worthy to be remembered by.

A hand landed on his head.

“What are you thinking about?” his father asked.

“How would I be remembered?” Prince Liam said.

A wry smile lifted the corners of his father’s lips.

“Here’s a tip from someone who was in your place just years ago. The more you try to do things just to be memorable, the more forgettable you become. Be a just, loving king who fills the needs of his kingdom, and you will naturally find the chance to shine.”

“Is that good enough?” Prince Liam asked.

“That’s what your grandfather and I am doing, and we’re included in the family history. Be faithful in the small things, and when the big things come you’ll be ready to seize your moment.”

His father clapped his shoulder. “So, let’s begin shopping for a suitable gift for our host tonight. Where shall we go? Left or right?”

Liam looked at all the stalls around them and picked the first direction that came to mind.

“Straight.”

His father laughed.

“Then straight we go.”

His father’s large hand closed around his small one and they walked straight ahead.

~End~

Short Story: Unchanging Past

Genre: fantasy

 

I was born with one brown eye and one black one. The brown eye sees things as they are, and although the black one does not always see the things in front of me, it can see much more.

It sees the past.

The best thing about the past is that it’s reliably unchanging. The worst thing about the past is that it’s tragically unchanging.

Growing up, I watched my neighbourhood like episodes in a long running drama series. I watched birthdays, movie nights, backyard games, and bed time stories.

I also watched breakups, angry silences, bullying behind doors, and final goodbyes.

I have watched the lifetime of strangers, good and bad. I have watched decisions stacked upon decisions and their spiralling consequences push people down the inevitable path. I have watched enemies become friends and family become strangers.

The lives I always end up returning to belong to a pair of cheerful fraternal twins who lived in the house across mine many years ago. The two siblings began life like one soul in two bodies, only to slowly drift apart over the years due to a multitude of misunderstood intentions, thoughtless actions, and nursed hurts. They both ended up moving as far away as possible from each other to live identically bitter lives until they both passed away from the same disease.

How tragic, I muse as I watch the familiar scene once more. My next thought is a familiar continuation, If only.

If only they had talked things out that night.

If only they would swallow their pride and apologize.

If only they had turned left instead of right.

No matter how many ‘if only’s cross my mind, nothing changes, because the past is the past. Irreversibly unchangeable. I can only take the lessons I’ve learnt watching the past to shape my present.

~End~

Short Story: A Roomful of Durian

Genre: slice of life, friendship

 

What did one do with a roomful of durians?

That was the challenge Roxana found herself faced with when she stepped into her living room and saw the boxes and boxes of the thorny fruits.

She focused her attention on the grinning girl among the boxes and said one word.

“Explain.”

Melanie shrugged. “They were on sale. Buy 1 free 1. And I got a free box for every five boxes I buy. How can you say no to such a bargain?”

“I can when my living room is filled with them. Did you even ask my parents before you brought them in?” Surely her parents would have stopped this madness.

“No one was home, so I let myself in,” Melanie said.

“Take them out. We’ll take one box at most, but the rest is your problem.”

“But where would I put them?”

Your living room.”

“Already filled.”

“… How many boxes did you buy?”

“One hundred! So I got twenty extra boxes for free,” Melanie declared proudly.

Roxana stared at Melanie. “What were you planning to do with 120 boxes of durians?”

“Dunno. That’s where you come in. Ideas?”

Roxana’s first thought was that she wanted to kick Melanie out of the house. Her second thought was that kicking Melanie out still left her with a roomful of durians. Her third thought was to let Melanie deal with her own mess.

Without a word, Roxana stepped back out the door and closed it.

~End~

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