some short stories

hmm, my friend jianwei likes short stories and so he suggested that i write some (specially) for him. now, im not particularly a good writer so read these stories at your own hazard. if u are the sort of person that has no imagination, cant take things with a pinch of salt and have no sense of humour, then please, go back to your room and continue mugging for a levels.

if you are boliao and like laughing at pathetic excuses for short stories, then continue to read on please.


a boy sat on the bus. he likes riding buses home cos they make you think. one long journey, almost identical roads, almost identical signs and nowhere to go but where ever your mind takes you. the buzz of the bus as it rumbles along the road. the buzz almost translates into a gentle massage of the senses. no wonder people find it so easy to sleep on the bus.

it starts from deep down in your spine, then onto your insides and they vibrate and thrum with machinery-given life. and then it hits your brain, like a rush of blood to the head. its not like the feeling you get when you stand on your head for too long; neither is it like the feeling you get when youve been hit by a softball on your head. somewhere in between and not so rough, my dear.

and then it flies. god, it flies away. and suddenly you see endless mountains. its just like in the movies. your movie. right down to the smallest detail: the snowy peaks, the white expanses of snow. no grass grows here cos its much too cold, much too desolate. men have tried for years to traverse this mountain pass but none have succeeded. no animals come here either, theres no food, no way the snow can melt into water.

if there could ever be a blanket of the whitest white, and if instead of warming you it could cut through your bones with the coldest cold; if it could envelope you and your senses and cover you with a tinge of despair, a touch of loneliness and a whisper of sorrow, then maybe you could come close to experiencing what this mountain felt like.

even though its white all around you, there is no sunlight. whatever sunlight there is is reflected, from god knows where. its white all around you and you can just barely make out the jagged, cruel shapes of rocks and boulders, stiff and unholy. they look so innocent, clad in whitest snow but they could tear you limb from limb and rip your heart out with a single rocky breath. they might even take your soul for good measure.

you look all around you. no living soul has ever passed this way before. in a sense, its pristine. its pure, like a firstborn child born under the northern star, and it has never known love or hate or any emotion from any living being been passed on to it.

except you. you are the only one who has ever been here.

the exultation begins in your heart.

i cannot quite describe the feeling that you would feel at this moment. you have just been to a special place where no one has ever been before. its deep inside you and no one can take it away from you, ever. not while you live and walk the earth still. and those around you will walk for days and weeks and years and centuries and millenia and they will still never be able to find that place in your heart.

its as innocent as you were the first time and as white as your soul when it first uncurled like a blossoming flower.

but yet, it is desolate. no one dares to tread so deep here. no one can. its closed up to the rest of the world and yet it borders on the brink of reality. its like trying to cut your own shadow from your skin so you can share it with the rest of the world. sometimes, others can see glimpses of it (if you let them) and sometimes its fuzzy, sometimes sharp and piercing. but none can go there, except you and that is exactly why you are all alone.

and you look all around you, once, twice, three times. you can never get enough of this place, like it can never get enough of you. it replenishes you, but yet it takes you away from reality. dangerous, you think. if you ever let yourself stay here for too long...

it blurs again. reality shapeshifts. it always does, just that people dont pay attention. this time, it catches you in the eye with a sharp blow. you reel and gasp and the surroundings blur and focus.

the boy realises its time to get off. you cant stay here for too long. and its been much too long already...

the boy gets off. he walks down the steps, half shaken, half panting from the exhileration. his feet touch solid ground again. such a vast contrast to the soft snow that caressed his ankles just a short while ago.

the boy gets off.

he stops at the bus stop and he turns around. he's trying to find the place again but somehow he also knows that he has already found it and its inside him; but that doesnt stop him from turning around nonetheless.

he stops. and thinks. sometimes you cant have too much of a good thing ya know. give and take. someday i'll be back. and then will you stay?

oh no. ill come, but ill go. its nice, yea, but ive got other mountains to climb and besides, its much, much too cold out there.

the boy smiles to himself, and notices two pretty girls walking along in front of him.

reality check.


yea, thats for you, jianwei. cos you special request whattt. now stop bugging me.