Rose in the box
I opened the painted metal box.
Only 2 people have the key to this. Primarily the other owner just stores his stuff here. Me being the other just uses it as a stop over point for stuff I'm moving to and from this place. Basically just cutting weight from my bag.
It's dark. The sad halogen tubes provide most of the light here. I'm all alone here looking at the metal box with it's orange face.
The only other sounds are crickets in the far off distance playing their monotonous songs as the air cond cooling unit drips onto the metal awning somewhere in the darkness behind me.
I fumble with my keys dropping the whole set to the floor.
I pick up the metal box's key with my thumb and forefinger. It's crazy heavy. But I just can't help but stare at the key for a moment in this almost silence wondering how different things might have been if I didn't screw up.
No point wondering anyway. I shove the key into the mini padlock and pop the box open.
I look inside. It's empty apart from the files and folders books piled high nearly to the brim of the locker. Any higher and I'd scrape my knuckles sticking my hands in.
I pull out everything and shove the contents into my bag.
A gentle breeze rushes in and caresses my face. The air is cool and moist, it had been raining.
I stare into the empty metal box and I just shake my head as I close it again.
---------------
The air is humid. And it's oh so hot. Heat was building in my thick clothes. The sunlight had me squinting.
I wasn't used to wearing them then. In such a combination. I'd rarely wear them in such a combination at all. But...Things change and force certain things to happen.
"One please." I say to the lady barely older than me behind the table.
"Alright but could you leave your name and your number it'll take awhile to wrap."
15 minutes later I'm back picking it up.
I open the box. And I place it inside the metal box gently carefully.
Before closing the door on it gently and locking it with a padlock.
------------------------
I remember opening the box. I feel my heart beat harder and stronger as I look at the contents.
It's all so foreign. Did I really produce all that?
I shake my head in disbelief. Is it my gift? Surely there's more to this than just the Right and the Left at work here. Surely there's more than that weird repeat cycle gift at work here.
I stick in a stiff folded board. Filled with yet another of my gifts.
I remember hearing "I wish you luck" as my friend handed over the paper with the draft written on it barely hours before I placed it in. She was merely shocked and had nothing more to say as she began to see the real thing buried under all these clothes sloppy hair and strangely solid expressions.
"How is it?" I ask.
"Well it's fantastic. No mistakes your English is good on it's own give yourself some credit. She's a lucky girl."
So there's 3 copies surviving in this world. I think there's 3. The draft in my drawer to remind me not to make the same stupid mistakes. 1 embedded in her mind.
And the last is carved into the hard stiff board. Somewhere from my sight. And in a place I will be denied entry to for possibly the rest of my life.
-----------------------------
I catch them peeking. Even as I hurriedly close the box.
I look at them and muster a nervous smile.
They merely nod and walk away smiling. It's all done. And it's ready.
-----------------------------
My back is supported by steel. I take great care to avoid the steel nubs that line this surface.
1 in my spine and I could be numb for the next few hours. 1 in my ribs and I might tear something.
I rest my wrists on my knees as I stare at the ceiling.
I haven't gained the love of the dark yet. So staring at the lights wasn't as painful.
I hear the click. The padlock opens.
I look away.
It's all quiet now. It's silent out there and gradually getting darker as storm clouds roll across the skies.
The air slowly thickens with an unknown tension. I don't say anything. My heartbeat itself is calm and steady.
The person opening my locker chooses to say nothing either.
A lenghty pause. Most people would choose to dramatise this as a pause of unbearable length, one too quiet, one which would chill the soul. But then reflecting. I wish the pause had never ended. I wish nothing was said. I wish it went on forever.
But someone had to say when it was time to go.
"I'm sorry....."
I close my eyes. Fatigue. Strain. Stress. Regeneration. All of that has racked my body for about a week. All the difficulty. All the hard work.
For nuts.
The person takes a seat next to me.
"I'm sorry." it comes again.
"Don't be. It was my mistake. You have nothing to be sorry for."
Silence.
"Shall we go?" I try to start up the conversation again.
"I've gotta print some stuff first so I'll call you when I'm done."
"Right. I'll go off to rest somewhere. Just let me know when you're done."
Glad to part company I go off to try and sleep. It doesn't go well. I don't get any sleep in the end.
---------------------------
He's so young. Oh how the younger ones always try so hard. Hopefully things go well for him.
Maybe that's why it's so profitable to open this booth year after year.
But he only bought one. Sadly.
He spent so long looking at them. Examining them checking every fold was right. Trying to get the neatest looking one.
He put in a lot of effort. Some people are so lucky in this world.
Sigh too bad Benjamin over there had to waste his time and screw up his order.
He was patient and polite enough anyway. He just rolled his keys continuously while waiting for me to complete wrapping it.
All he did was just stare at the trees the whole time too.
Amazing how sweet some people can be. Just amazing how some people like this can still exist in this world.
I hand him the stalk and he just smiles politely. I can see he's worn thin by unspoken stress and things.
I smile back and wish him luck.
He replies he's going to need a lot of it.
He walks off carrying the rose with great care. Who knows where he's going with it...
==============================================
Very very pleased with this piece of work actually. Could use some comments though. Lesley? Charlie? Sarah? Pui Yean? Say smth pls ^^ could use some feedback on the style.
It's strange lah just had a Huddle with the adults and I realised I'm the youngest guy. All men of about 22 onwards and a young guy of 19 in their midst. I'm barely 18 too actually! They just poured all their advice into me even as they listened to my problems. Really thankfull to them and to God.
The inspiration for this piece of work came from something Sarah said about studying. Can't remember what anymore. It's all so muddled.
Been listening to Lesley's blog a lot of late. The song that autoplays...It's just so beautifull. It just brings me back to when I was studying music. Dreaming of how I would play great songs just like that someday. Can I have it please Les? ^^
Only 2 people have the key to this. Primarily the other owner just stores his stuff here. Me being the other just uses it as a stop over point for stuff I'm moving to and from this place. Basically just cutting weight from my bag.
It's dark. The sad halogen tubes provide most of the light here. I'm all alone here looking at the metal box with it's orange face.
The only other sounds are crickets in the far off distance playing their monotonous songs as the air cond cooling unit drips onto the metal awning somewhere in the darkness behind me.
I fumble with my keys dropping the whole set to the floor.
I pick up the metal box's key with my thumb and forefinger. It's crazy heavy. But I just can't help but stare at the key for a moment in this almost silence wondering how different things might have been if I didn't screw up.
No point wondering anyway. I shove the key into the mini padlock and pop the box open.
I look inside. It's empty apart from the files and folders books piled high nearly to the brim of the locker. Any higher and I'd scrape my knuckles sticking my hands in.
I pull out everything and shove the contents into my bag.
A gentle breeze rushes in and caresses my face. The air is cool and moist, it had been raining.
I stare into the empty metal box and I just shake my head as I close it again.
---------------
The air is humid. And it's oh so hot. Heat was building in my thick clothes. The sunlight had me squinting.
I wasn't used to wearing them then. In such a combination. I'd rarely wear them in such a combination at all. But...Things change and force certain things to happen.
"One please." I say to the lady barely older than me behind the table.
"Alright but could you leave your name and your number it'll take awhile to wrap."
15 minutes later I'm back picking it up.
I open the box. And I place it inside the metal box gently carefully.
Before closing the door on it gently and locking it with a padlock.
------------------------
I remember opening the box. I feel my heart beat harder and stronger as I look at the contents.
It's all so foreign. Did I really produce all that?
I shake my head in disbelief. Is it my gift? Surely there's more to this than just the Right and the Left at work here. Surely there's more than that weird repeat cycle gift at work here.
I stick in a stiff folded board. Filled with yet another of my gifts.
I remember hearing "I wish you luck" as my friend handed over the paper with the draft written on it barely hours before I placed it in. She was merely shocked and had nothing more to say as she began to see the real thing buried under all these clothes sloppy hair and strangely solid expressions.
"How is it?" I ask.
"Well it's fantastic. No mistakes your English is good on it's own give yourself some credit. She's a lucky girl."
So there's 3 copies surviving in this world. I think there's 3. The draft in my drawer to remind me not to make the same stupid mistakes. 1 embedded in her mind.
And the last is carved into the hard stiff board. Somewhere from my sight. And in a place I will be denied entry to for possibly the rest of my life.
-----------------------------
I catch them peeking. Even as I hurriedly close the box.
I look at them and muster a nervous smile.
They merely nod and walk away smiling. It's all done. And it's ready.
-----------------------------
My back is supported by steel. I take great care to avoid the steel nubs that line this surface.
1 in my spine and I could be numb for the next few hours. 1 in my ribs and I might tear something.
I rest my wrists on my knees as I stare at the ceiling.
I haven't gained the love of the dark yet. So staring at the lights wasn't as painful.
I hear the click. The padlock opens.
I look away.
It's all quiet now. It's silent out there and gradually getting darker as storm clouds roll across the skies.
The air slowly thickens with an unknown tension. I don't say anything. My heartbeat itself is calm and steady.
The person opening my locker chooses to say nothing either.
A lenghty pause. Most people would choose to dramatise this as a pause of unbearable length, one too quiet, one which would chill the soul. But then reflecting. I wish the pause had never ended. I wish nothing was said. I wish it went on forever.
But someone had to say when it was time to go.
"I'm sorry....."
I close my eyes. Fatigue. Strain. Stress. Regeneration. All of that has racked my body for about a week. All the difficulty. All the hard work.
For nuts.
The person takes a seat next to me.
"I'm sorry." it comes again.
"Don't be. It was my mistake. You have nothing to be sorry for."
Silence.
"Shall we go?" I try to start up the conversation again.
"I've gotta print some stuff first so I'll call you when I'm done."
"Right. I'll go off to rest somewhere. Just let me know when you're done."
Glad to part company I go off to try and sleep. It doesn't go well. I don't get any sleep in the end.
---------------------------
He's so young. Oh how the younger ones always try so hard. Hopefully things go well for him.
Maybe that's why it's so profitable to open this booth year after year.
But he only bought one. Sadly.
He spent so long looking at them. Examining them checking every fold was right. Trying to get the neatest looking one.
He put in a lot of effort. Some people are so lucky in this world.
Sigh too bad Benjamin over there had to waste his time and screw up his order.
He was patient and polite enough anyway. He just rolled his keys continuously while waiting for me to complete wrapping it.
All he did was just stare at the trees the whole time too.
Amazing how sweet some people can be. Just amazing how some people like this can still exist in this world.
I hand him the stalk and he just smiles politely. I can see he's worn thin by unspoken stress and things.
I smile back and wish him luck.
He replies he's going to need a lot of it.
He walks off carrying the rose with great care. Who knows where he's going with it...
==============================================
Very very pleased with this piece of work actually. Could use some comments though. Lesley? Charlie? Sarah? Pui Yean? Say smth pls ^^ could use some feedback on the style.
It's strange lah just had a Huddle with the adults and I realised I'm the youngest guy. All men of about 22 onwards and a young guy of 19 in their midst. I'm barely 18 too actually! They just poured all their advice into me even as they listened to my problems. Really thankfull to them and to God.
The inspiration for this piece of work came from something Sarah said about studying. Can't remember what anymore. It's all so muddled.
Been listening to Lesley's blog a lot of late. The song that autoplays...It's just so beautifull. It just brings me back to when I was studying music. Dreaming of how I would play great songs just like that someday. Can I have it please Les? ^^
