tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38676033534039789442024-03-13T09:44:36.502-07:00the written works of vinci ting: a collection of stories from spiritus mundivincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867603353403978944.post-48319807576363072472025-01-01T23:30:00.000-08:002013-11-23T07:24:37.152-08:00Table of ContentsWritten works are fictional and include poetry, short stories, and novellas. <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">POETRY:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">o1. <a href="http://vinciting.blogspot.jp/2013/11/today-weather-is-death.html">Today, the weather is death</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>-- In memory of a childhood friend --</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Written in December 2012</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
SHORT STORIES:</div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">01. <a href="http://vinciting.blogspot.com/2011/11/lipstick.html">The Lipstick Thief</a></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
An encounter between a regular,
office woman and a man who cannot find his joy in life, particularly not
during the holiday season.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Completed on November 11, 2011 </span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Genre: Drama </span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">02. <a href="http://vinciting.blogspot.ca/2012/09/the-vending-machine.html">The Vending Machine</a></span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">A young man in his late teens muses about the invention of the vending machine, when he stumbles upon something unexpected one night.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Completed on February 05, 2<span style="font-size: x-small;">013</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Genre: Drama, Horror</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">NOVELLAS:</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">01. </span><a href="http://vinciting.blogspot.com/2011/11/dulces-suenos.html"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Dulces Sueños</span></a></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="clickable"><span class="qex">Three university graduates
embark on a journey to Spain, where they chase a dream across the
Spanish mountains in search of a legendary candy land.</span></span><span class="clickable" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="qex"> </span></span><br />
<span class="clickable" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="qex">Status: In Progress (Last update on September 02, 2011)</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="clickable" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="qex">Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Magical realism</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">02. <a href="http://vinciting.blogspot.com/2011/11/handful-of-stars.html">A Handful of Stars</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A boy and and his little sister are on the run for a crime they didn't commit. Unknowingly, they are transported to a space colony where an unfortunate accident separates them. Having lost his memory, the boy struggles to rediscover his past and reunite with the memories he once held close.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Status: In Progress (Last update on August 31, 2012)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Genre: Drama, Romance, Science fiction</span><br />
<br /></div>
vincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867603353403978944.post-44272246533434108162013-11-23T07:16:00.001-08:002013-11-23T07:16:59.297-08:00Today, the weather is death<br />
Last week, it clouded over<br />and yesterday was rainy.<br /><br />It is cold, and I wonder,<br />wonder if the silence will bring snow.<br />But the branches outside my window are bare,<br />and the sound of the rain has ceased.<br /><br />The cloth of the white curtain is rough to the touch<br />As I brush it aside.<br /><br />Ah, today, it is death.<br /><br />It is like a blanket<br />That hovers over our sleeping forms, and drops<br />To cover us, so very gently.<br />But we remain asleep,<br />unknowing of its presence.<br /><br />It is quiet, and we close our eyes.<br />It is warm as it envelops us,<br />But makes us feel the cold in our hands and in our feet;<br />Makes us curl our fingers and our toes<br />And wrap our arms around our knees,<br />Returning to how we were first conceived;<br />To the form that was given the breath of life.<br /><br />And in this form it is taken away, as are we,<br />As we are<br />Wrapped and carried<br />Far, far away, out of existence.<br /><br />And we are left with today.<br /><br />Today, the weather is death.<br />vincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867603353403978944.post-45502150768229061432012-09-13T22:46:00.002-07:002013-03-24T05:23:47.503-07:00The Vending MachineI stood uncomfortably in front of one of the large refridgerators in a convenience store. The refridgerator was located at the back and spanned across the length of the store, behind a total of six, large panels of glass doors. There were only drinks in this refridgerator; ice-cream, pudding, and other chilled products were in a separate, smaller refridgerator close to the cashier.<br /><br />The drinks were neatly categorized. On the far left were numerous brands of water--distilled, mineral, flavoured, etc.--available in bottles of various sizes. Beside that came the alcoholic beverages, from beer in cans and in bottles, to larger bottles of whiskey and other hard liquor to cans of bubbly cocktails imported from Japan. Directly to the right were energy drinks, a majority of them in sleek, metallic black or blue cans with a tinge of red or yellow, as if to emphasize the boosts of artificial energy contained inside. Next were juice boxes; I remember those from drinking them all throughout my childhood. Grape juice, orange juice, milk tea, coffee, soya milk--you name it, you got it. Under the juice boxes was the usual selection of soda and other carbonated drinks, and after that… well, you get the point. In any case, the options in choosing what to drink were endless and this, miraculously, never fails to be the case in any convenience store. So much that it unnerves me every time, and right now would not be an exception.<br /><br />I turned away from the refridgerator's glass panels and hurried back through the aisles of junk food, past the cashier and out the sliding doors. The heat slammed into my face as I left the heavily air-conditioned store, but I welcomed it as I walked over to the nearest lamp post, leaning against it and sucking in a breath of the damp air of Hong Kong.<br /><br />A few minutes later, my friend Felix came out of the store. Spotting me, he headed towards this way with a bottle of iced tea in hand. I knew Felix from middle school; although we weren't exactly close, we've hung out countless times since we were in our early teens. And now in our college years, we still don't seem to be minding each other's company.<br /><br />"When'd you sneak out here?" he asked when he got to where I was. "I thought you were buying a drink, but when I turned around you weren't even in the store anymore." He twisted the cap of his iced tea with a swift jerk, and it came undone with a satisfying crack of the plastic seal.<br /><br />"Yeah, well, I don't really like convenience stores."<br /><br />"Why? They've got everything."<br /><br />"That's one of the problems. There's so much to choose from. Don't you feel this pressure from behind you to make a decision quickly, like the cashier's staring and waiting for you to pick something so you can pay for it? It's stressful."<br /><br />Felix raised his eyebrows. "Dude, you're weird, man. I just take what I feel like having and pay for it, whenever I want and however long it takes. Who cares what the cashier thinks?"<br /><br />I shook my head. "I don't know, I don't like it."<br /><br />Felix raised the bottle to his lips and took a few gulps of iced tea. "Well, whatever suits you. So, you're not getting a drink?"<br /><br />"Nah, I'm good for now. I'll just get one at a vending machine later."<br /><br />"Okay."<br /><br />*****<br /><br />The vending machine is, hands down, the best invention in history. There's no doubt about it. It's simply ingenius, and half the people who use vending machines can't even begin to understand how much vending machines have improved our world. They think the main point of a vending machine is the convenience, that you can get a drink at any street corner. That is true, but that's not the genius behind it. Besides, there are now convenience stores at every street corner, even labeled for their convenience. So what is the point of a vending machine?<br /><br />First and foremost, it can at least take all the change that, honestly, you would probably never use in any other situation. You know, the little annoying coins that you get from buying a pack of gum with an obscure, decimated number at the end of the price, and that never seem to leave the coin pocket of your wallet once you put them in. I could never stand at the cashier counting exact change when there's a throng of people lined up behind me, watching me count each cent and mentally clicking their tongues. And so the change in my wallet accumulates until I eventually have to dump some of it out on my desk when I can't close my wallet anymore because of the humungous bulge of coins. I've even stopped picking up pennies I've dropped.<br /><br />Next, there's something satisfying about the process of buying a drink from a machine. The "automatic" concept of a vending machine is autonomy on the buyer's part as much as it is the technical machinery that's automatic. From inserting the coins and watching the little red digits add up, hearing the clinking of your coins landing in the massive pool of change inside, to pressing the button and waiting for the clunk of the bottle dropping to the bottom of the machine. And then there's the part where you reach under the flap to take out the drink, and there you have it in your hand. Amazing.<br /><br />But the real selling point of a vending machine, in my opinion, is the fact that you don't have to interact with anyone. It is privacy at its bestest. You can take as long as you want to pick your drink, change your mind several times, even put in your money and then have it give it back with a press of a button without causing any inconvenience to anyone. There's no stress of potentially having to experience anything more than the act of buying a drink itself. I have a girl friend who frets about putting on at least minimal make-up just to make a trip to the convenience store. I've asked her why, and she had replied, "What if other people see me in the store? And the cashier. Even in the dead of night, a hot guy might be running the cash and I'd never forgive myself if I was caught without make-up then!" I suppose that's one stress-inducing situation, if not the most unnecessary.<br /><br />Anyway, in essence, interacting with people when I don't need to is a pointless bother. Sure you only have a choice of about 12 types of beverages to choose from compared to the hundreds in a store, but I'm okay with that. I tend to stick with the same old stuff anyway. Don't most people?<br /><br />I suppose that's why Felix and I still hang out. You can apply the same concept to friends. You tend to stick with the same old crowd if you can; even if you have the opportunity to meet new people, it takes an incredible amount of effort just to put yourself out there and to get to know completely new personalities you have never encountered before. You don't even know if you'll like them after interacting with them. What if you don't? That was a lot of energy expended and wasted.<br /><br />Nah, I'll just stick with the same old.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />I remember one time in high school, the school cafeteria was helping one of the student clubs with a fundraiser by selling milkshakes only for a day. It was the International Development Awareness club and they were fundraising to send money to the WFTO by selling milkshakes made from fair trade chocolate… or something like that.<br /><br />It was a warm day in June just before the summer break, and because they had been advertising the milkshakes the entire week before, everyone was determined to try one by the day they were selling them. I remember my class was all riled up to get one, and had already begun to line up at the door five minutes before lunch time started, ready to dash out the door the moment the bell rang. Our biology teacher was so fazed by this that, eventually, he didn't even bother telling everyone to stay in their seats anymore.<br /><br />This was apparently the case in every other class in our school. I guess word spreads fast in high school, so a lot more students rushed to the cafeteria at lunch that day than what the club had anticipated. After all, there's no way you wouldn't get a milkshake if all your friends were getting one--what would you do otherwise, eat lunch by yourself while everyone lines up at the cafeteria?<br /><br />That's exactly what I did, though. Well, with another buddy of mine. While everyone made the stampede to the cafeteria, I had slowly packed my books back in my bag and casually strolled to the vending machine that was, fortunately, located on the other side of the school. I got my usual bag of chips and juice box, and my friend did that same. That was when I was hooked onto Vita soy milk, the chocolate flavoured one, and I had it everyday. We went back to the classroom to eat our packed lunches, and I remember the classroom being unusually quiet that day, for once. By the time the both of us were done eating and lazily sipping on our juice boxes, leaning back on a chair with our feet up on our desks, our classmates began storming back into the classroom, evidently upset. Apparently the cafeteria had sold out of the milkshakes after the first hundred students, and because there were so many students crowding around the cafeteria which caused a whole lot of confusion, most students ended up wasting the majority of their lunch time standing around and then finding out that there were no more milkshakes to buy.<br /><br />I was told that the milkshakes weren't even that great.<br /><br />*****<br /><br />"I'm done for today, man. You wanna call it a night?" Felix asked me, liting his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. He dropped down to a crouch, then leaned back and stretched out on the ground. Even at night the temperature remained the same as during the day, and we were both sweating from a few hours of shooting hoops at the basketball court near where I lived. <br /><br />"Yeah, sounds good. Good game." I gave the basketball a last spin on my finger before dropping it, letting it bounce and roll across the court away from me. I walked towards where our bags were strewn at the side. Felix remained sprawled on the ground, taking in deep breaths and letting them back out dramatically.<br /><br />Picking up my backpack, I unzipped it and rummaged inside for my water bottle. "Damn, I forgot to bring my water." I took out my wallet instead, and dumped out the change out before stuffing it in my pocket. "I'm going to get a drink at the vending machine, you want something?"<br /><br />"Yeah, maybe. Get me a C.C. Lemon."<br /><br />I extended my hand out.<br /><br />"What?"<br /><br />"It's 10 dollars."<br /><br />"Dude, can't you treat me from time to time?"<br /><br />"No can do, man. I'm a poor student. Plus I hate having to remember numbers, and it'll be awkward suddenly asking you again for it another day. So it's better you just give it to me now. Less of a bother."<br /><br />Grumbling under his breath, Felix reached into the pocket of his pants. He slapped a coin into my open palm with a smirk. "Here you go, jerk."<br /><br />"You're welcome. Be right back."<br /><br />I ran and hopped over the low railing that surrounded the basketball court and headed towards the nearby park. It was past 10 in the evening and most people had already gone home for the night.<br /><br />As I walked down a narrow path that connected the basketball court to the park, I could see the endless rows of tiny lights across the street in the distance, windows of the countless apartments in which people were mindlessly watching TV after another long day of work. It's sort of a ritual for anybody living in Hong Kong. Wake up in the morning, hop on a crowded train, stay in air-conditioned spaces for the day, squeeze yourself back onto a train. Maybe buy take-out on the way, and once you get home, turn on the TV and leave it on while you hastily eat your take-out that's already begun to grow cold. Take a shower, go to bed. Repeat.<br /><br />It's like everyone's decided that that's how life should go. You don't have to think about it, it just ends up that way.<br /><br />I walked past another lamp post and spotted a vending machine near where two big garbage cans stood at the side of an open space. As I approached it, I saw that the machine was an older model. The newer ones have the actual drinks displayed in a window at eye-level, and there are buttons right below each drink that you can press to choose it. This one only had the logos printed and cheaply stuck behind pieces of hard plastic, yellowing from years of use and the multitude of people's fingers pressing them. But, like I said, it didn't really matter in any case. Most people probably knew what they wanted before coming to this machine anyway. For me, that would be a Pocari Sweat.<br /><br />I looked over to check that the machine had the drinks I wanted. Fishing into my right pocket, I felt for the 1 or 2 dollar coins that I had been waiting to use up.<br /><br />I was about to put one into the machine, when I realized there was something sticking out of the slot where I was supposed insert the coin. It was three coins jammed into the slot. Looks like someone was a bit too hasty to get their drink and ended up not getting one at all. Well, lucky for me.<br /><br />I dug my fingernail in between the two coins on the right and tried to pry one of them out. Luckily, the jagged edge of one of the coins made it a lot easier, and I managed to wedge it out halfway before giving it a final yank. All three coins came flying out and, thanks to my reflexes fresh from a hard round of basketball, I caught them midair just before they hit the ground.<br /><br />One was a 1 dollar coin, and the other two 2 dollars. I added them to my handful of change, and stepping back up to the machine, I casually inserted one of the 2 dollar coins back into the slot. As I pushed the coin in, however, I felt a kind of resistance on other side. The coin stayed, caught midway, in the slot hole. I tried to push it in with my finger again, but it wouldn't give in. I puzzled over this for a brief moment. The slot hole itself was designed to be rather big, probably to allow the thicker 10 dollar coins to fit. I could understand that it would get stuck if you tried to shove three coins in at once, but as anyone can see, I'm no hasty person. I always put in the coins properly, one after another, making sure to listen for the clink of the coin landing in the coin pile inside the machine.<br /><br />I took the 2 dollar coin out. I bent over and peered into the slot hole. In most vending machines, a light is located somewhere inside that illuminates the images printed on the plastic exterior of the machine, so usually there's a bit of light peeking out from the coin slot too. This machine was getting old though, and the light was dim, so I couldn't make out much. I sighed, and in one final attempt to unjam the machine, I tried squeezing my pinky into the machine.<br /><br />The slot was just big enough for me to do so, and I twisted my finger around slightly so it could reach a little further in, and I touched something. I guess there was something else jamming the coin slot after all. I felt around a bit, but the pinky finger isn't the most sensitive body part, and all I could tell was that it was something damp.<br /><br />I groaned. Most likely, it was a piece of gum someone chewed and, feeling sorry for its existence, decided to give the piece of gum a more purposeful ending to its short life by shoving it into the coin slot of a vending machine instead of the trash bin. Well, purpose noted.<br /><br />Anyway, by now I was getting rather thirsty, and all I could think of was just that satisfying first gulp of liquid running down my throat. Still with my finger in the slot, I lodged my fingernail into the said piece of gum and slowly wriggled my finger back out, prying the gum back out with it. It was trickier than I thought, because the gum seemed to have hardened a bit--as most chewed and thoroughly salivated gum do a few hours after it's taken out of your mouth--while retaining its dampness. Plus it seemed to be quite a large piece too.<br /><br />Finally, my finger made it out of the slot and now all I had to do was use two fingers to yank the gum out. For the first time in my life, I actually remembered the hand sanitizer stands located near the park entrance and made a mental note to make use of them later. My finger was feeling sore as I flexed it a bit--and that's when I saw that there was something lodged under my fingernail. I'm the type of person that likes to keep my fingernails clean all the time, probably because fingers are the body parts you look at most often on yourself.<br /><br />Under the dim light of the vending machine, I inspected my fingernail more closely. At first I thought my finger was just bruised from basketball, or from all the prying, but bruises don't appear that quickly. I would had to have pounded a hammer on my finger without myself noticing for a bruise to form under my nail like that. The bruise-like stain under the tip of my nail looked more in between the state of being slightly congealed and almost dry. And when I tried to scratch at it, flicking some of it off with with my thumbnail, a bit of it came off flakily. The undried parts stuck and stained my thumbnail too. As hard as it was for me to believe, there was no doubt.<br /><br />I looked back up from my fingernail at the coin slot. Sure enough, from what I could tell under the low lighting and the curiosity that possessed me to step closer to examine, the sticky mass lodged in the slot was not a piece of gum at all. It was a finger, or at least part of it. It was hard to tell exactly how much of the finger there was, or whether it had belonged to a man or a woman, since most of the finger was still stuck inside the machine. The only part I could see was the tip of the shriveling end where it was dismembered, and the not quite dried, uneven congealment of carmine over it.<br /><br />I paused. Then slowly, taking the 2 dollar coin I had pulled out before, I nudged it back into the coin slot, pushing the dismembered finger further back into the machine. Using the coins that were still in my other hand, I put two more of them into the slot. Of course, none of the coins fully made it into the machine because the finger was there, but I slotted them in one by one until the coins jammed the slot perfectly again, like a wall of metal.<br /><br />I turned around to see if anybody had seen, but I was the only one in the park, standing alone under the flickering lamp posts overhead.<br /><br />I heaved a sigh. Dumping the rest of the change back into the pocket of my pants, I thought about how it was a shame that I couldn't keep the coins I had found after all. That's how money is, I guess. It passes through so many hands in a day, and just when you think you've got your hands on some, it slips through your fingers and to someone else somewhere out there again. Oh well, It wasn't mine to begin with, anyway. I shouldn't be too bothered about it.<br /><br />I began walking back down the path I came from. I'll have to tell Felix they were out of C.C. Lemon or something, and then maybe we could grab our drinks from another machine on the way back home. I remembered there being one near the train station.vincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867603353403978944.post-14563220309625398332011-11-13T07:23:00.001-08:002012-09-13T22:43:17.820-07:00A Handful of Stars<br />
The tide was already starting to recede. The water level gently descended with each slosh of a new wave, the change barely noticeable until after a long passage of time, discreet as night descending onto the day. It revealed a smooth, wet expanse of sand, leaving no trace of the footprints from a woman picking seashells just a few hours before. I've spent a good portion of the afternoon sitting here at the bay. In fact, I've sat here almost long enough to witness a full tidal cycle. The water had slowly crept up the shore, covering the scattered rocks and over the heads of tiny crabs scuttling across the sand. It had almost reached where I was sitting, on an old log some distance away from the shoreline, my toes tingling in anticipation of the feeling of cold ocean water washing over my feet. But the tide stopped a few inches away, and my toes continued to dig into crisp, dry sand as I stared out into the blue distance.<br />
<br />
I often spent my afternoons here, soaking in the blue waters surrounding Malta, the distant, grey forms of rock and the bright expanse of sky lit by an abundance of sunshine. On some days an occasional boat would row by, but no ships came to this bay as it was surrounded by a rocky terrain, and quite a ways from the city.<br />
<br />
And so my ears have become accustomed to the sound of waves, the cry of birds and the rustling of grass rather than the habitual sounds of the metropolis, where most other children grew up and lived. If someone were to ask me which I preferred, I wouldn't know how to answer. I don't know the feeling of living in the metropolis and probably never will, although that doesn't bother me much.<br />
<br />
"Kouri!"<br />
<br />
I turned at the sound of my name. Emilee, my younger sister who recently turned eleven, came running down the hill towards me, her usual summer dress fluttering with every quick step. She reached where I was sitting and stopped, bent over slightly with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.<br />
<br />
Straightening up, she brushed her blond hair out of her eyes and said, "You're still here! What're you doing?"<br />
<br />
I gave a tiny wave and shrugged. "You know I like sitting here."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but you've been here for <i>hours</i>!"<br />
<br />
I chuckled. "Pretty much half the day, actually. The tide was low when I came in the morning."<br />
<br />
"It's high tide already?"<br />
<br />
"Today's Lunar Day, so there's going to be two high tides and two low tides."<br />
<br />
"Ohhh," Emilee said, her eyes round and intrigued. "I read in a book last week that waves have something to do with the moon." She gave me a curious look. "How come you know all this, Kor?"<br />
<br />
"Because I pay attention in geography class. By the way, the lady with the seashells came by again earlier," I told her. "I think I saw her pick up at least two of those pink shells you were looking for on Sunday."<br />
<br />
"Really?!" she exclaimed, her lit expression revealing her excitement. "Where did she find them?"<br />
<br />
"Somewhere near that clump of rocks," I said, pointing it out to her. "You can probably just ask her next time, maybe she'll give one of them to you. Don't we see her sometimes at the bakeries?"<br />
<br />
"That's true," Emilee said thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll ask her next time." She smiled happily at the thought.<br />
<br />
"So what made you come here? Weren't you painting with Arden on that new canvas Mrs. Applewood brought back yesterday?"<br />
<br />
"Oh!" Emilee said, as if remembering something. "Yes I was, but then Mrs. Applewood asked me to come get you. I think she needs some help with carrying more firewood from the shack."<br />
<br />
"We're out of wood already?"<br />
<br />
"Well…" She bit her lip in hesitation. "I think Bryan was trying to put together some sort of obstacle course yesterday during free time. He accidentally rolled a couple of logs into the bog." Flustered, she leaned in closer, her small hands reaching up to cup my ear. She whispered, "I'm not supposed to know, I just happened to see it when I went to get more milk from Bess. Don't tell Bryan, okay?" She leaned back and looked at me urgently.<br />
<br />
"I won't," I assured her.<br />
<br />
Immediately, Emilee looked relieved. It was always easy to read Emilee's feelings. My sister had the kind of honest innocence that allowed others to tell what she was thinking just from the expression on her face. I can't imagine why anyone would want to abandon her. We're discouraged from thinking about that, though.<br />
<br />
We started walking back up the hill towards the house, which was about a fifteen minute walk from the bay. Emilee hummed a tune from the morning radio, skipping a few paces ahead of me. I prefer walking at a steady pace and taking my time; after all, there's no rush to do anything around here as long as things get done sometime. We've been raised to follow schedules well though, and we all get things done together.<br />
<br />
All of us get up in the morning at about eight'o'clock, a while after the sun rises. I usually get woken up by the boys sleeping around me as they groan and clumsily stumble out of bed when the morning bell rings. I have no idea how the girls can file so neatly into the dining hall like they do, it's always a battlefield of scattered bedsheets and cumbersome bodies in our room. When we finally manage to get out of the bedroom, plates of toast, eggs, ham and orange juice await us on the long table in the dining hall. Sometimes we get apple juice, and on Sundays, we have milk fresh from Bess, the cow we help take care of. Teachers usually have coffee on Sundays, and they sometimes allow some of us older ones to have a taste.<br />
<br />
Coffee is a luxury especially in the outskirts where we live. I hear that coffee used to be more common, but coffee beans are hard to cultivate and we definitely can't grow them here. They're only available in certain parts of the world, but even there they're limited in quantity, thus making the price for a cup of coffee extremely high. This is what Miss Jeanie told me when I asked why they only have coffee on Sundays. I think Miss Jeanie also has a friend living in Brazil who ships a pack of coffee beans to us every year; otherwise, coffee is sold at an even more unbelievable price in the metropolis. <br />
<br />
But people in the metropolis can afford it. Last time I went into town, I saw a girl of about my age, sixteen, drinking from a large cup of coffee with whom I assumed to be her parents. They were in a shop with large windows. Maybe parents can afford these kinds of things if they only have a few children, I don't know. It definitely wouldn't be possible for a place like ours, where we have twenty-six kids in addition to three teachers, a cook and a housekeeper.<br />
<br />
Emilee and I arrive back at the house, a two-storey building with windows in every room and big, front doors that are usually left open during the day and only closed after we finish dinner. The building is made of bricks alternating between red and brown, and a black, shingled roof covered the top with a big sign that read "Riddelwing Industrial School". Like any other weekday, we had school this morning from nine-thirty to about noon, where we receive basic education like they do in the metropolis. We would have lunch, and then we have special classes that differ depending on which industry we want to go into after we turn eighteen. These classes are everyday for one hour long, and they're made to train us in particular fields so we can start working in our chosen industry by the time we're old enough to leave Riddelwing.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, during our time at Riddelwing, we are given lots of free time in the afternoons. After our one hour of training, we're free to do anything we want until dinnertime at six, and then we help around the house with chores. Or sometimes we play games, until we feel tired and slip out to bed one by one.<br />
<br />
I usually like to go to bed at about half past eleven, then I lie in bed for a good hour thinking about everything, or sometimes nothing at all. The other boys fall asleep pretty fast; some of them crawl into their own beds long after I do but still manage to fall asleep before me, snoring without a care in the world. Not that the snoring bothers me, I suppose we're all used to this kind of lifestyle.<br />
<br />
Most of us grew up here at Riddelwing from an early age. I was brought here when I was five and Emilee was just born. Some of the other kids came here at earlier ages, some later. None of us think too much about our previous families though. One's memory of their parents usually fade after a few years at Riddelwing, and none of us really mind since everyone is kind to us and we're happy living here.<br />
<br />
There are a few other industrial schools around the country--all on the outskirts, of course. According to what Miss Jeanie taught us in history classes, there used to be a "middle" class of citizens who were neither categorized as "rich" or "poor". Nowadays, it's different. Most people have developed economically one way or another and have moved to what we call the "metropolis"--dense, urban cities--and all the world's attention is now focused on such places.<br />
<br />
Thus the countryside, or the "outskirts", are neglected and left for us to live in. Most parentless children like us are placed at orphanages, now technically called "industrial schools", in the countryside so we can be raised to work in industries in order to meet the needs of those living in the metropolis. Lumber, coal, electricity, food manufacturing… there are many industries and we're free to choose which field we want to enter into when we grow up. We've been told that the number of people willing to do these kinds of practical jobs has been decreasing in the past century, so they count on orphans and children with no social status to grow up and fill up these sorts of positions. It's a win-win situation, really. I don't mind being here, since life here at Riddelwing is all I've come to know anyway.<br />
<br />
Otherwise, our earth doesn't seem too different from the earth a few hundred years ago as described in textbooks. People are still dependent on technology, working indoor jobs facing computer screens and dealing with abstract matters like numbers and marketing. That's how money is made, and how money is kept within the metropolis. Daily neccessities are silently provided by those outside the metropolis by people who don't know such tricks of the trade. But it seems like life has always been like this, just that the standard of life has risen since.<br />
<br />
"I'm going to go see if Mrs. Applewood is still in the classroom," Emilee said to me, and ran towards the house. Just then, Mrs. Applewood came out through the doors herself, wiping her hands on the apron tied over her dress. She broke out into a huge smile when she saw Emilee, and opened her arms to catch Emilee into a hug. She spotted me in the distance and waved. I walked towards the two of them.<br />
<br />
"I told Emilee you'd be by the bay," she said. <br />
<br />
"I knew that myself," Emilee protested, a small crease appearing on her forehead. "I know everything about Kouri!"<br />
<br />
Mrs. Applewood laughed. "I'm sure you do, you two are like two peas in a pod." She winked at me. "So you think you can help me carry some wood back to the kitchen, Kouri?"<br />
<br />
"Sure," I replied. "How much do you want?"<br />
<br />
"Maybe enough to last the next week or so, I just don't want to bother the little ones in case we run out during the week. We ran out of wood this morning and I had to ask Gordon and Brianna to bring back a log each so we could finish cooking lunch."<br />
<br />
I nodded. "I'll be right back."<br />
<br />
"Thanks dear," she said gratefully, patting me on the shoulder. She looked at Emilee. "Shall we help out with dinner?"<br />
<br />
"Okay!" Emilee said brightly. She took Mrs. Applewood's hand and they started heading back in the house. "See you later!" she called to me over her shoulder.<br />
<br />
Rolling up my sleeves, I started to head towards the big shack where all the firewood is stored. I wonder what we're having for dinner tonight. Brocolli cream of mushroom soup sounds good. If I finish eating earlier than usual, maybe I could hike up the hill and take a look at the moon.<br />
<br />
===========<br />
<br />
"What's the date today, class?" Miss Jeanie asked as everyone took their seats in the classroom. Her hand held a piece of chalk and hovered readily over the blackboard.<br />
<br />
"Wednesday!" said Pippy, a girl sitting in the first row.<br />
<br />
"That's the day of the week," Harold, the boy sitting at the same table, told her.<br />
<br />
"It's the 18th today, Miss Jeanie," offered Marilyn, who sat in the second row closest to the window.<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Marilyn," said Miss Jeanie, and she scribbled <i>July 18, 2282</i> at the top right corner of the big blackboard at the front of the classroom.<br />
<br />
The classroom was located on the first floor, its window overlooking the front lawn. Large wooden desks lined up horizontally in rows of three, seating three students on each desk. This made it easier to do group work, or share paints during art classes when we still had those. Only the younger children have art classes. Yesterday, Emilee had her first art class where she was allowed to use clay, and she had told me all about it when we were sprawled in the sitting room after dinner.<br />
<br />
Classes are separated into three levels for three different age groups, but we all have classes at the same time in three different rooms. Each teacher is responsible for one level: Mrs. Applewood teaches level one which is for kids aged ten and under, Mr. Morrey oversees level two for kids eleven to fifteen, and Miss Jeanie is responsible for the last level.<br />
<br />
Today, we were on the topic of "modern developments" and we spent a good part of the class looking at projections of old spacecrafts. As a picture of the Vostok 1 capsule flickered back onto the screen for the millionth time, I suppressed the sudden urge to smirk. The longer I looked at it, the more ridiculous it seemed to me that people would actually climb into that orb and fly into space like a goldfish in a bowl. Besides, I thought to myself as I flipped through my own textbook, who knows where you'd end up after being thrown into space in that hamster ball.<br /><br />It's so much easier to travel into space now, although I wouldn't even dream of going up there in my life. You can buy tickets at the station in the metropolis but they're still much too expensive for people like us to even think about. What would be the point anyway? Outer space can stay in textbooks and movies for all I care.<br /><br />Shianta, a girl sitting in the back row, put up her hand. "Miss Jeanie, have you ever gone on a cable ship before?" she asked.<br /><br />"I have not," Miss Jeanie answered. Then she paused, and said, "Although it'd certainly be nice if ever such an opportunity arises."<br /><br />"Aww, I want to go for a ride on the cable ship too," another boy, Greg, said wistfully. There were other excited murmurs of agreement around the classroom, and the din of varied conversations grew. Since there were only a few more minutes of class time left, Miss Jeanie sighed and let everyone chatter their excitement away until the bell sounded again, and we all packed our bags and filed out of the classroom.<br /><br />"Hey Kor," Luke called out as I walked out the classroom door, and roughly put his elbow on my shoulder. Luke was an old friend of mine here at the school. "Chris and Greg were saying how we should all try and sneak some drinks from the pub near the Met tonight. You wanna come?"<br /><br />I frowned. "I don't have any pocket money left. I spent my last dollar last week on popcorn for the movies… besides, the Met's far."<br /><br />"D'aw, don't worry about it," Luke said, giving me a slap on the back. "It'll be my treat. I've got a few bucks saved up."<br /><br />I glanced over at Chris and Greg who were hovering on the other side of the hall. They saw me look over and gave me a thumbs up. I signaled back to them and said to Luke, "Yeah sure, why not. I'll come with you guys."<br /><br />"Awesome!" Luke said cheerfully. "Hey, make that a group of four!" The other boys gave a whoop and came over.<br /><br />"You know," Chris said, "Greg was betting on how you'd rather spend your time reading one of your books instead of coming with us."<br /><br />"I was not!" Greg protested. "Well, not betting…"<br /><br />"Kouri, a.k.a. the studious type," Chris translated. He slapped me on the back and added good-naturedly, "I'm envious of that, can't survive without brains, you know. Even with my killer sense of humour."<br /><br />I grinned back. "What can I say, I'm up for free drinks anytime. Hang on, just gonna drop these off." I dashed upstairs to the bedroom, threw all my books on my bed, grabbed the jacket stuffed under my bed and hurried back downstairs. They were already waiting near the front door, and we all headed out together.<br /><br />We hitched a ride off a cart loaded with fresh wheat that was headed towards a bakery near the pub. We pushed aside the stacks of wheat and made space to huddle in the corner. We ended up spending the entire ride listening to the old man driving the cart talk about how he used to secretly hitch rides himself when he was our age, by leaping onto hay stacks from the roof of his house as the hay was transported to another town. When we reached the bakery, we jumped off the cart and thanked him, before racing towards the pub just a few houses away.<br /><br />It was already 4'o'clock in the afternoon so we were probably going to miss dinner, but none of us cared. Plus, the late afternoon is when we get the leftover snacks, on the house, before the pub starts serving the dinner menu. We entered the pub and received a hearty welcome from the owner, also the bartender, who immediately brought us our usual fizzy drinks in tall glasses, with a large, complimentary plate of fries. The four of us borrowed a pack of cards that the owner took out from behind the counter, and we played cards and laughed away while sipping on our drinks for a good two and a half hours.<br /><br />A few of us boys used to come and hang out often. But since entering into our level three classes, we've been unusually exhausted after our special training, so this was a good outing for the first time in a while.<br /><br />Nearing 7'o'clock, we decided it was about time to head back. As promised, Luke paid for our drinks while the rest of us tried to contribute with the few ten cents that we had left in our pockets. We decided to walk back since no carts were in sight at this time in the evening, and we got back to Riddelwing at about half past eight.<br /><br />"Thanks Luke," Chris said. "That was some good melon fizz."<br /><br />"Yeah, thanks man," Greg said.<br /><br />"Next time will be on me," I promised. I'll have to remember to put aside a few dollars the next time we receive our monthly pocket money.<br /><br />"No problem, sure thing," Luke said. "You guys gonna hang out in the sitting room?"<br /><br />Greg yawned. "Actually, I think I'm going to retire early tonight, I got up at six this morning 'cause Sarah wanted to watch the sunrise."<br /><br />"What's this, so you've been hanging out with a girl behind our backs!" Chris teased as he put his arm around Greg. "You guys gettin' along well?"<br /><br />"Sort of…" Greg ducked his head, looking guilty while giving a lopsided grin, and Chris and Greg sauntered into the house still talking amongst themselves.<br /><br />Luke made a start to follow them, but not before turning towards me. "You gonna head inside, Kor?"<br /><br />"I think I'm gonna stay out here for a bit."<br /><br />"All right, suit yourself. I'm going to see if I can get some hot cocoa from the kitchen," Luke said. "Later!"<br /><br />"See you," I replied as Luke turned and disappeared inside the house. I took a deep breath and started walking across the field on the right side of the house, towards the hill. Reaching the top of the slope, if you walk on the plateau for a good fifteen minutes or so, the plateau ends before the ground dips into a trench, forming a rocky mountainside. This was a place I often come to when I'm not at the bay.<br /><br />I sucked in the fresh, open air and sat down on a small patch of grass next to the cliffside. I crossed my legs and leaned back with my arms behind me, looking beyond the trench. Patches of weeds and other dry grass grew on the other side, and amongst that, I spotted the sparse specks of Star of Bethlehem flowers blooming discreetly.<br /><br />I flopped back onto the grass and closed my eyes, feeling the breeze brush against my face. Just as I was beginning to doze off, I heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps, softly padding across the grass before stopping. I opened my eyes. A face peered back at me, its features soft and delicate with a curtain of chesnut hair framing it. My eyes trailed from the chin to the delicate bridge of the nose, finally meeting the hazel, almond-shaped eyes that stared back. She reminded me of a basketful of fresh peaches.<br /><br />"Hello," she said.<br /><br />The corners of my mouth curved upwards automatically. "Yuliya."<br /><br />Yuliya walked around and plopped down next to me on the grass. "Kouri."<br /><br />"Yes?"<br /><br />"Nothing. Hello."<br /><br />"Hello to you, too."<br /><br />She gave a satisfied smile. "I didn't see you at dinner, so I wasn't sure if you'd be here tonight. But I'm glad you are." She stretched out her legs, reaching out her to touch the tips of her toes. Her hair blew softly with the breeze. "Did you guys go somewhere?"<br /><br />"Yeah, the guys were going for some drinks."<br /><br />"That must be nice," she said. She looked at me reproachfully. "You never ask if I want to come along."<br /><br />"Well… it was kind of a guy thing." I sat up and looked back anxiously at her. "Did you want to go?"<br /><br />"Maybe. I've never gone before, but Sally keeps telling me how good the raspberry fizz is, and I have some money saved up." She stared at me expressionless for a while, then broke into a giggle. "I'm just teasing, Kouri. You guys should go have a good time once in a while."<br /><br />"You're not mad?"<br /><br />"I won't be if you promise to take me there one of these days," she said, an amused gleam in her eyes.<br /><br />I grinned at her. "Deal."<br /><br />She smiled, and we both turned to look out across the trench. This was basically our routine every night.<br /><br />Before we had established this routine, after dinner, I would go for walks by myself, thinking to cool off before bedtime. It was relaxing, and I would wander off to explore a different area each night, careful not to stray too far from the school. Some nights, I'd climb a tree or settle comfortably between some bushes to get some quiet time, but my favourite was star-gazing out in the open on nights when the skies are clear. And the best place to do that was near the cliff where there was a big, open but secluded place.<br /><br />Or at least I thought it was secluded, until the third time I went there and had unexpectedly came across Yuliya. Giving a sidelong glance at her profile now, I reminiscenced about how we had encountered each other.<br /><br />I had always known who Yuliya was; it wasn't as if our school had that many kids in it. She was never in my classes, so I just never had a chance--or a reason, really--to talk to her before I saw her here.<br /><br />I had been walking across the field that one night when I spotted her, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, silently gazing into the distance. Seeing her small figure slightly hidden in the grass had caught me by surprise, and she had turned to look at me just as I was about to discreetly walk back away. Not wanting to seem impolite and having no choice at the time, I had shuffled towards her, and awkwardly stood there until she said, "Do you want to sit down?"<br /><br />So, at her suggestion, I had sat down, and after enduring a painful silence, eventually said, "Best view here, huh?"<br /><br />"Yeah. Can't really catch a glimpse of the stars anywhere else."<br /><br />I remember replying, "Well, depending on the weather, the beach near the bay isn't bad either."<br /><br />She had looked at me, puzzled. "I didn't know there were any near there!"<br /><br />"Er, well, I mean, stars can be seen anywhere really. But if you really want to see them clearly, you gotta--"<br /><br />"Oh!" she had interrupted. "I was talking about those over there. Stars of Bethlehem." Then she had pointed to a bunch of white tips peeking out from behind patches of thick, wild grass growing on the opposite side of the trench. Straining my eyes, I could see that they were flowers, white in colour but rather subdued from the surrounding weeds.<br /><br />"….Oh. Er…. sorry, I didn't realize, I thought you were talking about…" I hadn't even noticed the flowers before then. "Um, yeah."<br /><br />We had awkwardly picked at the grass until she suddenly laughed, and it was strangely contagious enough that I started chuckling myself. Turns out she already knew my name, as I did hers. Things have gotten a lot less awkward since then--fortunately-- but, in any case, that was how everything started.<br /><br />Since then, we've met at the same place every night, sometimes star-gazing and sometimes flower-gazing. Yuliya's pasttime was gardening. She had voluntarily taken over Mrs. Applewood's gardening duties and became incredibly knowledgeable about plants from being around them so much. Sometimes she'd come back from exploring the woods nearby with a new, unidentified plant, and replant it in the flowerbed at the front of the school so she can analyse it over time. Our school garden has grown quite extensively in recent months because of that.<br /><br />And during the evenings we spend talking on the cliffside, she would tell me a lot about the flora that she came across everyday. So much that, eventually, I've come to be able to identify between bugbane and gooseneck loosestrife, though I'd never admit that to any of the guys. To be honest, I don't care that much about flowers or plants. But I like listening to Yuliya talk, and watching how her face just lights up when she talks about what she likes. It might even be comparable to star-gazing.<br /><br />Yuliya's question brought me back to the present. "So what did you think of the pumpkin pie tonight?"<br /><br />I groaned. "You mean, the pumpkin pie tonight, last night, the night before last night, and the night before that?"<br /><br />She gasped in exaggerated horror. "I didn't realize we've had the same pumpkin pie for so many nights!"<br /><br />"Pardon me, I forgot that it was pumpkin stew last night, not pumpkin pie."<br /><br />Yuliya made a face. "Agh, that was terrible. It almost made me wish we had whined less about the pie, I think I'd prefer having the same pie again to having that pie-turned-into-stew mix."<br /><br />"When is pumpkin season ending anyway, Ms. Expert-of-All-Growing-Things?"<br /><br />"Bad news: not for a while!"<br /><br />I groaned again and she laughed, playfully nudging me in the shoulder. "Oh come on, Kouri, don't complain so much. Riddelwing's not so bad, I've heard some horror stories about the other schools. Like how one school grows their own crops, it's part of their learning program or something. But all the kids actually managed to grow successfully were carrots, so guess what they had for dinner all summer?"<br /><br />"Okay, pumpkin for two weeks isn't so bad then."<br /><br />"Nope, it isn't."<br /><br />And so our conversation continued until it was getting late and rather chilly, so we decided to head back to the school and to call it a night.<br /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">(To be continued)</span>vincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867603353403978944.post-24774583616210523052011-11-13T06:59:00.001-08:002011-11-13T07:07:03.356-08:00Dulces Sueños<br />
<br />
"If you are looking for place to shop, <i>señorita</i>, I believe you may like it here," the bus driver spoke with a heavy Spanish accent as he jerked his chin towards the right.<br />
<br />
Kyla leaned forward from her seat directly behind the driver. "What's this?" she asked him.<br />
<br />
"It is market for shopping. And to eat," he said over his shoulder. "It is popular stop for tourists. There is celebration in month of May."<br />
<br />
Will unfolded the map in his hand and tried to pinpoint where they were. They had spent their morning browsing an enormous bookstore near the city centre and were now enroute to a small museum that Kyla had found out about on the internet before their trip. They had taken the bus from outside the bookstore, but the museum was much farther than they had anticipated and they found themselves, an hour later, still on the bus and long overdue for lunch.<br />
<br />
Carmen looked out the window as the bus was coming to a stop. They seemed to be nearing a square of some sort. A big entrance was constructed of a log laid on top of two other logs that stood about three metres apart from each other, and bustling folk went in and out of the entrance going about their daily business. A sign nailed to the log overhead said <i>el mercado local</i>, painted in red and decorated all around with depictions of fish and an abundance of crops.<br />
<br />
Kyla turned to Carmen and Will. "Let's stop here for lunch, it seems like a nice place. Looks like we can do some quick shopping here too."<br />
<br />
Carmen frowned. "How much further is it to the musuem? If we've come this far, we might as well just have lunch there."<br />
<br />
Will looked up from the map and said with a raised eyebrow, "From the looks of it, we still have a good hour or so before reaching the museum, and even then we can't be sure they'll have a place for us to eat there. It seems to be in the middle of nowhere, I doubt they have all the facilities museums in the city would normally have." He pointed out where they were currently on the map and traced his finger down a series of winding roads before resting on a small white circle that marked where the museum was located.<br />
<br />
Carmen heaved a small sigh before turning back to Kyla, except Kyla was already thanking the bus driver and making her way down the steps of the bus. Will shrugged, and tucking the map back into the back pocket of his jeans, he swung his backpack over his shoulder and started down the steps too. Adjusting the light scarf around her neck, Carmen said a quick <i>gracias</i> to the driver and hurried after them, her soft, honey brown curls bouncing as she shook her head.<br />
<br />
It was the second week of May and the three of them were fresh graduates from the University of London. The job market looked as glum as always and it didn't seem likely that any of them would be able to get a job right away with just an undergraduate degree. And so, for the lack of anything better to do, the three of them had decided to go on a three week trip to Spain before subjecting themselves to the grim task of job searching. They had taken a plane from London to Madrid, and after spending a few days there visiting historical sites, had taken another flight heading east to Barcelona before hopping on a bus to Badalona where they had hoped to relax, away from any urban areas that were all too similar to London.<br />
<br />
"I didn't think the transportation system here would prove to be so slow though," Kyla said, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ears and smoothing out her red bob with her fingers as they walked through the wooden entrance and into the market square, her grey eyes moving left to right as she scanned the area. When they turned the corner, a surprising scene readily greeted them. Rows of lively vendors shouted from their booths, while jugglers and entertainers at the side tried to evoke laughter from their audiences through a series of simple tricks. A number of people crowded around the fountain in the middle of the square. The three of them stopped for a while to soak in the sight.<br />
<br />
"This is a pretty neat place," Will commented, watching a man balance five empty cans on his head while riding his unicycle.<br />
<br />
"See, this makes up for how slow the bus was going," Kyla said with a hint of smugness.<br />
<br />
"I don't think it was particularly slow, more like the museum is rather far, don't you think?" Carmen said, her sarcasm hidden behind a tone of nonchalance. "What kind of museum are we going to anyway?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know."<br />
<br />
Carmen gave an exasperated look at Will, who seemed rather indifferent about all this. He retrieved his right hand from the pocket of his jeans and scratched his head, his almost black hair too short to be ruffled by this, save the fringe that kept sliding back over his left eye. "So you two want to have lunch?" he asked, changing the subject.<br />
<br />
Kyla looked brighter at the thought. "Yes! How about that shopping centre? They must have a food court."<br />
<br />
"I was thinking of trying one of those over there," Will replied, directing our attention towards a nearby vendor who was calling out something in Spanish in a loud voice and waving a huge sign that said <i>rosquillas</i> over his head.<br />
<br />
Kyla wrinkled her nose. "I've tried those before, they're fried."<br />
<br />
"Actually, I'm not really that hungry," Carmen said. The bumpy bus ride had taken away her appetite. "You two can eat though."<br />
<br />
"Why don't we split up then?" Will suggested. "Then you and Kyla can do your shopping after, and we'll meet back at the fountain at two-thirty."<br />
<br />
"Sounds good to me!" Kyla said.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
An hour and a half later, Carmen browsed the clothing racks absentmindedly with ten minutes to spare before it was time to meet up with Will and Kyla. Though all the tags were in Spanish, it was an American clothing store and nothing really caught her interest, and Carmen found herself walking up and down the clothing aisles simply to kill time. A group of girls chattered excitedly near the fitting rooms and Carmen, knowing close to zero Spanish, had tuned out most of the noise until she heard her name from somewhere behind her.<br />
<br />
She turned around and found Will walking towards her. "What are you doing in the shopping centre?" Carmen asked. "Thought you didn't like shopping."<br />
<br />
"I don't, but there's nothing else to do," Will said. "Was just about to head back to the fountain, you ready to go?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. I'm not really in the mood for shopping either."<br />
<br />
The two of them walked out of the store and back out to the market, strolling towards the fountain. Though neither of them were all that excited to go to the museum, the market square was small and an hour and a half had been more than enough time to have walked around the entire place.<br />
<br />
Fifteen minutes later, Will sat at the edge of the fountain while Carmen paced to and fro, still with no sign of Kyla showing up.<br />
<br />
"Where do you think she could be?" Carmen asked Will.<br />
<br />
"Probably still in the shopping centre, I'd imagine," said Will, tapping his foot nonchalantly to the distant bagpipe music coming from the other side of the square. He brushed his fringe that was getting too long out of his eyes and got up. "I'll go look for her."<br />
<br />
"Okay. I'll check the vendors then."<br />
<br />
Another fifteen minutes later, Carmen had walked down the entire three rows of vendors twice, but still could not find Kyla. Walking out from the third row, she was about to walk back to the first row when, like deja vu, she heard Will calling her name again. In the distance, she saw Will waving at her from the fountain. "I found her!" he called out.<br />
<br />
Relieved and slightly annoyed, Carmen made her way towards them. She reached where Will and Kyla stood, but before she could say anything, Kyla said excitedly, "Listen Carmen, we have to go!"<br />
<br />
Carmen raised her eyebrows at her. "Says the person who didn't show up on time and had us looking for her?"<br />
<br />
Kyla waved something in Carmen's face. "No no, I was having my lunch in the shopping centre when someone came up to me and showed me this, and now we have to go on it!" She thrust the pamphlet into Carmen's hand impatiently.<br />
<br />
Before Carmen could even hold up the pamphlet to read, Kyla broke off into a sprint towards the vendors. Carmen stared after her with her mouth agape. She turned to look at Will, who shrugged and started running after Kyla.<br />
<br />
"What in the--" And before she lost them, Carmen chased after the two.<br />
<br />
Kyla led them straight past the vendors. It was easy enough for Will to look ahead and avoid bumping into anyone, but Carmen wasn't as tall and found herself panting for air as she tried to dodge passerbys while trying to catch up to Kyla and Will. Kyla ran past the last vendor's booth and exited the market square through a small gate built into the low fence that ran along the side of the square. Will jumped over the fence entirely, and when Carmen reached the gate, she had to fumble with the lock before it opened and she dashed through it.<br />
<br />
Kyla was still running fast and farther and farther away from the market square. She raced over a hill, heading towards the outskirts of town.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going?" Carmen yelled furiously. "Have you gone mad?" She received no response. "Will! What's gotten into you two?"<br />
<br />
"I'm not sure," Will called behind his shoulder, "But whatever this is, Kyla's really into it and it wouldn't hurt to take a look."<br />
<br />
Angrily, Carmen sprinted as fast as she could past Will, and catching up to Kyla, she grabbed her wrist. "Kyla! What in the heavens do you think you're doing?"<br />
<br />
Kyla slowed down a little and looked at her. "Just read the pamphlet I gave you," she said, finally stopping to catch her own breath. Will slowed to a stop behind them.<br />
<br />
Furious, Carmen smoothed out the pamphlet she had crumpled in her hand while running. The pamphlet had no pictures, only text, and the title was displayed in big, bold print with smaller font under it.<br />
<br />
<i>Dulce Landia</i><br />
<i>[An infinite amount of pleasure and sweets await you.]</i><br />
<br />
Carmen opened the pamphlet, only to find five words, and written in English: Find me in the west.<br />
<br />
She turned over the pamphlet but nothing was on the back except a curious logo that resembled a raindrop within a sun. She looked up from the pamphlet at Kyla, who smiled triumphantly. Almost delusionally, Carmen thought.<br />
<br />
"So you're heading towards the west," Carmen said.<br />
<br />
"Yes, that's right," Kyla said very matter-of-factly.<br />
<br />
"What is this <i>Dulce Landia</i>?"<br />
<br />
"It's a legendary place where everything is made of sweets! The man told me." Kyla looked so serious that, for a second, Carmen had an urge to laugh. This was ridiculous.<br />
<br />
"There is no information whatsoever on what this is. At most, this could pass as a low prank that some high schooler came up with on a dull day of summer vacation!" Carmen exclaimed. She looked at Will. "And you? You saw this pamphlet?"<br />
<br />
"Yep," replied Will, a smile playing on his lips. "She showed me when I found her in the centre, she was already heading towards the exit."<br />
<br />
"And you're following along with this?"<br />
<br />
"Well, I did happen to hear, before finding Kyla, something about a myth and a pilgrimage of some sort, which I'm guessing might be connected to this."<br />
<br />
"I'm glad you know the word MYTH, because that is the keyword here," Carmen snapped. "Meaning most likely NOT REAL. And the only pilgrimage that exists around here would be towards Santiago de Compostela, not some fairytale sugar land!"<br />
<br />
"Oh, but Carmen..." Kyla stared off into space wistfully. "A city made of candy sounds so nice. Don't you think so too?"<br />
<br />
Carmen was about to retort, when she hesitated. To be honest, the idea of a candy land sounded extremely enticing and Carmen was intrigued. But the idea of going on a journey to find a city made of candy? That's just insanity. Wouldn't such a place be found, mapped out and marketed to the rest of the world by now? Practically everything that could be found has already been found in our day and age.<br />
<br />
"This is insane," Carmen said uncertainly, shaking her head.<br />
<br />
"But an adventure," Will said rather cheerfully. "Most adventures tend to be a little insane. Come on, Carmen. Which would you pick: another hour on the bus to go to that dingy museum, or a quest to find an awesome place?"<br />
<br />
Both sounded preposterous at this point in time, Carmen had to admit. She was certain that Will was just going along with this because he was bored, and Kyla would agree to do practically anything if it sounded remotely more exciting than, say, staying at home. Hell, wasn't this entire trip a result of the three of them trying to avoid that dull, London life, if only for three weeks?<br />
<br />
"Fine," said Carmen reluctantly. Will grinned and they both turned to Kyla, but she had gone ahead and was already a hill away from them. Carmen and Will broke out into a run to catch up to her.<br />
<br />
This definitely didn't seem like it was going to be a fruitful journey to Carmen, but she was slowly beginning to develop a curiosity for how this was going to turn out.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
The three of them walked for what seemed like an entire day to Carmen, but the sun was only beginning to sink behind the looming mountain range. Carmen had expected the climate to be a little warmer since they were walking away from the coast, but over time she began to notice the frost on the grass and the crunching of their footsteps. Looking behind them, she could see the various trails of footprints they had made, overlapping one another at some points along the way. The footprints they left behind were so apparent, yet since there were no footprints ahead of them, Carmen could only assume that there were no other people but them who were crazy enough to go on this journey to seemingly nowhere.<br />
<br />
None of them spoke much during their walk; it just seemed inappropriate to talk loudly while crossing a huge expanse of land with no sign of life, and for such a long period of time. Carmen wondered about this too. Weren't there people here, anywhere? Badalona had a decent population; it wasn't as if they were exploring an obscure island off the Mediterranean coast. She would have expected to at least come across the lone farmhouse or cottage. But there was no one, not even an animal in sight. She wanted to get away from the urban city, yes, but this was a little strange even for Carmen.<br />
<br />
Eventually, they encountered their first sign of life: plants. At first it was a tree, then several trees, and then they started pointing out to one another flowers they had never seen before that were, though covered in frost, in full bloom. Will whistled in amazement at the occasional bush that came across their path, picking a bright purple berry off one of them.<br />
<br />
"Dare I try eating this?" Will asked Carmen, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. But Carmen gave Will such a look of horror that he quickly added, "It was a joke."<br />
<br />
Taking a moment to glance back at them, Kyla began humming a small tune to herself before continuing on her way. Wasn't she in a strangely good mood, thought Carmen.<br />
<br />
Before long, they were making their way through a thin layer of snow. Of course, all three of them thought it was peculiar that there would be snow in the middle of May--but then again, they've heard stories of the Mediterranean climate, so perhaps one shouldn't be so surprised after all. And they were nearing the mountains, where they’ve heard of the occasional thunderstorm occurring in the dead of summer and other such unpredictable cases.<br />
<br />
Carmen found it harder to hike up the hill with snow on the ground. Her flat shoes slipped constantly and she was wondering why Kyla and Will didn't seem to be having as hard of a time as she was, when she suddenly stumbled on something which caused her to topple over into the snow. Slightly disoriented, she picked herself back up and bent over to see what she had tripped over. It was covered in snow, so she reached down to pick it up with her hands.<br />
<br />
It was a giant mushroom, about half the size of her foot. But it wasn't a mushroom one would normally find on any hillside. This mushroom was soft and translucent, and no matter how hard Carmen tried to dust the snow off, there still seemed to be a layer of some sort of powder sticking to it.<br />
<br />
Carmen looked up to find Kyla coming towards her looking rather eager. Kyla bent over to sniff the mushroom.<br />
<br />
"See? So a candy land does exist!" she stated proudly. "This is a candy mushroom!"<br />
<br />
Carmen looked hard at the mushroom for a second. And before she knew it, in the spur of the moment, she took a bite.<br />
<br />
It was a gummy candy. A very large gummy candy.<br />
<br />
Carmen looked at Kyla in amazement, and Kyla simply winked in return and turned back to continue walking with a new, ever increasing wave of enthusiasm. Will looked at the gummy mushroom and then at Carmen. "I should have tried that berry back there," he said in a most somber tone of regret.<br />
<br />
Carmen laughed. She couldn't believe that she just came across a mushroom made of candy. So maybe this won't turn out to be a delusional trip to the mountains after all. Could this candy land actually, truly exist?<br />
<br />
"Look at her standing like that, gaping at the mushroom like a complete idiot!"<br />
<br />
She whipped around, but there was no one to be seen. "Who's there?" she said sharply.<br />
<br />
"It's true. Here's another helpless traveler oblivious to the whole world we have out here."<br />
<br />
"It's so embarrassing, these humans have no shame in how little they know."<br />
<br />
"Can't blame them too much, I hear they need to use some kind of a system involving metal disks and pieces of paper just to feed themselves everyday!"<br />
<br />
"What's that? You mean they can't survive without those useless things?"<br />
<br />
"That's what I've heard."<br />
<br />
As Carmen squinted to see through the growing fog that seemed to come out of nowhere all of a sudden, she saw two trees, their trunks bent towards each other and branches crisscrossing. And these trees were whispering. To each other.<br />
<br />
"Will, Kyla, these trees, they're--" Carmen tried to tell them about the chattering trees, but they were already out of earshot. Taking one last glance back at the trees, Carmen quickly turned around to catch up to the others, ignoring the whispers that continued until she, too, was out of earshot. Carmen shuddered. The whispering trees gave her an eerie feeling, and the more she thought about them, the more she was beginning to picture them as candy canes, as if her memory was playing tricks on her as well.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
By nightfall, it had snowed for hours already and the height of the snow had reached their knees. Even Kyla began to slow down significantly from fatigue. Luckily, just as each of them were beginning to wonder how they were going to spend the night, Will cried, "Look! I see light over there!"<br />
<br />
Sure enough, in the distance stood a relatively large, wooden house. Its windows were brightly lit and smoke came out from the chimney off the side of the roof. As they drew closer to the house, bursts of laughter and a low rumble of many voices talking could be heard coming from inside, along with the clanging of dishes and silverware. Reaching the door, they looked up to see a sign hanging overhead that read <i>La Taverna Luna</i>. Cold as they were, none of them spared a single thought on why there would be an inn here. Instead, all they could think about was simply how much they would like to get warm.<br />
<br />
Will stepped forward to open the door and all three of them went inside, leaving the chilly air and the bright moon that night behind.<br />
<br />
"Welcome, strangers!" boomed a deep voice that, for some reason, reminded Carmen of chestnuts roasting above a fire. A large man with a full beard and a rosy face strode towards them. "Lookin' to stay here for the night?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, we'd like two rooms, please," Kyla said politely, flashing a smile.<br />
<br />
"No hay problema, señorita," the man said with a wink, giving her a smile so wide that Carmen could see he was missing a tooth on both his top and bottom rows. Carmen guessed that this was the innkeeper.<br />
<br />
"How much would that be?" Will asked, shrugging off his backpack and about to unzip the side pocket.<br />
<br />
The innkeeper gave a brief wave of his huge hand. "Ah, let us not bother with trivial things like money tonight. You can pay later. You were travelin', si? You are tired, sit for a while in the lounge. Have a drink and be merry!"<br />
<br />
Indeed, the three of them were very tired. So they sat down at a table near the fireplace, feeling slightly out of place. The innkeeper went through a swinging, wooden door at the back of the room and soon came back with three plates, each with a thick slice of bread rich in nuts and grains with a steaming, baked potato next to it. Next, he brought out three large glasses of wine, and with a very grand flourish of his hands and a "buen provecho", he left the three to their meal.<br />
<br />
The lounge seemed to be connected to a small bar. The entire place was lit by dim, yellow light bulbs hanging overhead, and several lit candles on copper candle holders were placed near the windows. Guests at other tables chattered energetically over pitchers of beer; one man even had an entire bucket of mead to himself.<br />
<br />
"Well, that was easy," Carmen said, delighted at the food in front of her. She was especially hungry since she hadn't eaten anything for lunch that day. She picked up the fork and stabbed open the potato, which released a big puff of steam and brought a delicious waft of potato and happiness to her nose. Will took a huge bite of the bread first and Kyla bent over slightly to take in the aroma of the wine.<br />
<br />
"So you are travelers!" A man wrapped in a thick coat wearing a beret on his head came and sat down at their table, his meaty face pulled into a grin. He was quickly joined by two other men.<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes! We're here for vacation," Kyla said, putting down her wine glass and picking up her bread.<br />
<br />
"Vacation here in the countryside?" one of the other men with a rather long and crooked nose questioned. "Didn't think we’d ever get to see any new faces around here!" He chuckled to himself.<br />
<br />
"You mean none of you gentlemen are travelers?" Will asked diplomatically, though by no means did he mistake any one of them to be a fraction of a gentleman even for a split second.<br />
<br />
The third man who sported a short, gray moustache guffawed. "Oh, by golly, no! We're locals around here, you see--been visiting this place since my early days." He scratched at his moustache. "In fact, everybody here is a regular. Strangers are a rarity!" He gave another raspy guffaw.<br />
<br />
"Locals?" Carmen inquired, a tad confused. She didn't question what he meant by 'early days' since he seemed pretty well into his years, though she couldn't imagine how one would be able to spend every night, at any point in their life, at this inn in the middle of a snowy wasteland. In addition, Carmen thought their English to be quite excellent and wondered how they were about to speak it so well if they had spent the past few decades on the outskirts of a Spanish city.<br />
<br />
"Yep, live right around the corner myself. These two are about five minutes away from me."<br />
<br />
Kyla cocked her head slightly to the left. "I don't remember seeing any houses on our way here," she said. "Do you remember coming across anything, Will?"<br />
<br />
"Not really," replied Will. He looked at Carmen, who also shook her head.<br />
<br />
"You just weren't looking hard enough," Crooked Nose concluded. "Well, since it doesn't seem like you were here for sightseeing--” He laughed at this idea, “--what else might bring you three out here?"<br />
<br />
"We're in search of <i>Dulce Landia</i>," Kyla explained. "We heard about it at a market square in Badalona and it's supposed to be in this direction." She said this confidently as if she knew this for certain. "Would any of you be kind enough to point out where it is exactly? It might save us some time, I'd like to arrive there as soon as I can."<br />
<br />
To Kyla's surprise, all three men and the innkeeper who happened to be passing by let out a roar of laughter, oddly in unison. "Well, aren't you an adventurous bunch of young'uns!" Beret said, beads of sweat forming on his brow from laughing, yet he still kept his coat on. "Last time someone told us that, he was traveling alone and looked rather weary of his life. We thought it was because he was getting to that age when you don't know what little else you can do with the remainder of your life and had just decided to set out on a final, make-believe trip to the mountains."<br />
<br />
"If there was a candy land around here, why, I'd try eating my house right this minute!" Moustache cried.<br />
<br />
The innkeeper wiped his hands on his apron and chuckled. "We've had a few travelers that have told us they were on the same type of quest," he explained. "Don't know where you've all been gettin' this from, but there's no sugar land around here last time I checked, and I was outside just five minutes ago."<br />
<br />
"If you're talking about <i>Dulce Landia</i>," a plump lady called from the next table, making everyone turn and crank their necks to look at her. "That's a story mi abuela told me when I was a wee little girl. Nothing more than a myth if you ask me," she added while wagging her finger at Carmen and taking another swig of her beer.<br />
<br />
Carmen frowned. It wasn't her that had been totally thrilled about this trip. Still, she responded, "But on our way here, I came across a mushroom made of gummy candy. And candy cane trees that could talk." She didn't want to believe it either, but having seen those two things with her own eyes, she found herself arguing in view of those. "How would you explain those?"<br />
<br />
She received another round of laughter from the men at her table. The innkeeper looked at her sympathetically. "I know you are tired, it must be hard travelin' in the snow and findin' nothin'. I will see to it that you at least receive a good night's rest at my inn." He gave Carmen a hearty pat on the back. Carmen turned pink with aggravating embarrassment. He thought her to be making things up to comfort herself on their profitless journey!<br />
<br />
"Can't say I've seen anything quite like a city made of candy myself, although I'd certainly like to," commented Crooked Nose.<br />
<br />
Carmen, Will and Kyla all looked at each other, and they made a silent decision to say nothing more. Just as the innkeeper had said, they were tired, and although they were irritated by the fact that no one seemed to be providing any help on their quest, it didn't seem worthwhile either to continue arguing about it. After finishing their meal, they politely listened to the men's conversation as they sipped on their wine, and when it seemed to them that the conversation wasn't going to end anytime soon, they excused themselves and retired to their rooms early, where they fell asleep soon after.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
The next morning, the three of them opened their room doors to find the inn very deserted. The long, wooden tables that had been littered with wine jugs and beer glasses last night were now clean, with six chairs flipped and neatly resting on top of each one. Will walked over to the swing door leading into the kitchen, and sticking his head in, he called out, "Anyone there?"<br />
<br />
There was no response. Carmen peeked out of one of the windows to see if the innkeeper was outside at the back, but she could see no one. Kyla walked to the front door and turned the knob, flinging the door wide open. "Well!" she said, turning back to us with one foot already out the door. "Doesn't look like anyone's around, they probably went back to their homes before the morning. We should get going too!"<br />
<br />
Uncertain, Carmen said, "But we still haven't paid or thanked the innkeeper yet."<br />
<br />
Kyla replied impatiently, "But he's not here right now, is he? And we can't wait around for him like this, goodness knows when he'll be back! Looks like he's been out for quite a while too, seeing how quiet and untouched everything is. We might as well get going."<br />
<br />
Carmen felt a slight pang of guilt from the idea of just leaving like this. She thought about the excuse of needing to get some breakfast first when Will said, "C'mon, let's go" and followed Kyla out the door. Carmen had no choice but to follow suit, slipping her arms through the straps of her backpack and securing it behind her. She stepped out into the cold, shutting the door behind her as she did so.<br />
<br />
Kyla was a few paces ahead of her, walking in the direction they had gone yesterday. It was easy to recognize which way was west because it was marked by the mountain range that seemed to be closing in on them. Closing in, Carmen thought, because the mountains seemed a lot closer to her than they were last night from what she remembered, and the inn certainly hadn’t and can't move. But neither can mountains. So which would be more likely? Carmen didn't want to think about it.<br />
<br />
Walking closer, a thick forest came into sight. Seeing that there was no other way to go but through it, the three continued trudging through the snow and into the forest without pause--and surprisingly, without complaint from Carmen. Carmen herself felt too tired to protest, which was a problem, because the sun was still barely high enough in the sky to mark mid-day, and who knew for how long they would be walking today.<br />
<br />
The snow was crisp and untouched, very characteristic of snow that had fallen overnight and been left for a few hours before being discovered. The branches hanging overhead from the numerous, evergreen trees were laden with clumps of snow, and save for the occasional, soft thump of snow falling from a branch to the ground, the forest was as quiet as could be. There was not a chirp from a bird or snap of a twig from a nearby squirrel that one might expect to hear in a forest. But the sunlight peeking through the thick branches and the crunch of the snow as they walked were comforting sounds, if not the only sounds, and it gave the three travelers peace of mind--something they hadn't experienced for perhaps too long.<br />
<br />
A while later when the sun had risen to well above their heads and even the tips of the tallest trees, they saw something small on the ground a few metres away from them. Drawing closer, they saw that it was a brown rabbit ensnared by a metal trap, and it must have been caught quite some time ago, Carmen figured, because it laid completely still and the blood from the wound in its leg had seeped well into the snow around it. It was a terrible sight; yet somehow, it was relieving to see that this forest turned out to be an ordinary one after all, or at least one with animals inhabiting it too.<br />
<br />
"This little guy looks pretty stiff," said Will as he looked at the rabbit, then glanced around. "It's probably been here for a while. Doesn't look like whoever snared it is going to be coming back for it anytime soon."<br />
<br />
Kyla looked a little hesitant. "Do you think it's edible?" she asked slowly. "I'm actually rather hungry right now, but I've never cooked rabbit before... or any other animal, really." Or anything at all, for that matter. Kyla came from a family that was a little more than fairly well off and had a housekeeper that also cooked every meal for them.<br />
<br />
Will said, "I'm pretty famished myself without breakfast in my stomach, and I wouldn't mind having some rabbit. Tried it when my family went on vacation to Portugal, though I can't say I remember how it tasted."<br />
<br />
Kyla looked a bit more hopeful. "Well, if you've tried it before, I'm sure it's fine! I don't suppose any of you know how to properly, er... roast?... rabbit on an open fire?"<br />
<br />
Will shrugged.<br />
<br />
Carmen didn't say anything. She had grown up on a farm with her grandparents in Ireland, where she watched her grandmother take eggs from chickens' nests in the morning while her grandfather milked the cows before slaughtering them for dinner a week later. She grew up accustomed to the fact that, sometimes, animals were just a means of survival for humans; nothing more, nothing less. She had never thought it to be cruelty, or abuse of wildlife, until she met activist groups at university who, on the contrary, might have slaughtered her instead if they had known the environment and mentality of her upbringing.<br />
<br />
Still, Carmen felt uneasy as she and Kyla watched Will take a few steps closer to the dead rabbit, until Will suddenly exclaimed, "Why, come take a look at this, will you?"<br />
<br />
"What's the matter?" Carmen asked, a little alarmed.<br />
<br />
Will paused, pondering. "Let's just say... this rabbit is definitely edible."<br />
<br />
"How do you know?" Kyla asked, taking a few steps forward in curiosity. "Have you remembered how to cook--oh!"<br />
<br />
Carmen walked up to where the both of them were crouched over. "What's going on?"<br />
<br />
Kyla braved a poke of her finger at the side of the rabbit. Then she leaned closer to sniff it. "Carmen, I'm pretty sure this is chocolate!"<br />
<br />
"What?" Carmen asked incredously, despite having had heard Kyla just fine. "That's impossible, then what's with all the blood?"<br />
<br />
Kyla swiped a handful of snow stained with red and licked it. Carmen started giving a cry of horror when Kyla laughed and told her, "It's all right! This isn't blood at all, unless blood takes like strawberry sauce!"<br />
<br />
Will grabbed some snow and shoved it in his mouth too. "You're right, this is strawberry flavoured," Will mumbled through his mouthful of melting redness, wincing slightly from how cold it was. "This is really good! Totally giving me a brain freeze though."<br />
<br />
"We're having chocolate for lunch, hooray!" Kyla dropped down to a cross-legged sitting position and broke off the rabbit's ear.<br />
<br />
"Wait, Kyla, don't put that thing in your mouth yet, you can't just eat whatever you find in the--" Carmen's comment fell on ignorant ears as Kyla bit into the broken piece of chocolate.<br />
<br />
"This is really milky chocolate!" Kyla exclaimed in delight. "Better than when I visited the huge chocolate factory in Belgium last year!"<br />
<br />
Will also sat down on the snow and broke off the other ear before putting it in his mouth. "This tastes like dark chocolate if you ask me," he said thoughtfully. "I think I taste a hint of coffee in it too. Which is good because I really cannot start a day properly without caffeine in my system."<br />
<br />
"Guys!" Carmen said frantically, her skepticism from yesterday coming back to her. "This isn't right, we don't even know where this is from or what it's doing here, and a chocolate rabbit of all things... don't you find this even a tad strange?"<br />
<br />
Clearly not, by the lack of response from Kyla and Will as they continued munching on the rabbit. This continued for another ten minutes as Carmen remained standing at the side watching them, while the other two polished off the rabbit. It had looked like a rather huge chunk of chocolate at first, but they soon found out that the rabbit was filled with a sweet, strawberry inside that had Kyla and Will eating and eating.<br />
<br />
"Carmen, are you not going to eat at all?" Will asked after a while, sparing her a glance after remembering that they had a third companion aside from the rabbit they were eating.<br />
<br />
Carmen just shrugged in slight disgust. Kyla chewed on, oblivious. After she was done, Kyla flopped over in the snow and patted her stomach. "I'm full! That was good stuff." Will nodded in agreement, putting more snow in his mouth and waiting for it to melt for the lack of water.<br />
<br />
Few minutes later, Kyla picked herself up from the snow and stretched. "All right! Shall we continue? We've got to be pretty close by now, I have a feeling we're going to find it today!"<br />
<br />
"Already?" Will asked. "How do you know?"<br />
<br />
Kyla shrugged. "Women's intuition?" she suggested, cocking her head to the right. Carmen snorted. More like nutcase intuition.<br />
<br />
Will picked up his backpack from the ground and dusted off the snow. Looping his fingers through the handle at the top, he swung his backpack over his shoulder and put on an energetic look. "Well, the sugar definitely helped me wake up! Let's get going."<br />
<br />
Carmen grumbled and stalked past them, this time taking the lead. She didn't know what to think anymore, so there was nothing else to do but to keep going. Or at least have Kyla burn off that energy from all the chocolate, because that goofy grin on her face was really getting to Carmen.<br />
<br />
=======<br />
<br />
The chocolate seemed to have given Will and Kyla enough energy to last a few more hours of walking after lunch, but Carmen had yet to eat anything today and was completely famished by the time the sun started to descend ever so slightly. The three of them walked in silence. The time that passed today seemed so much longer and so much less eventful, and the prints they left in the snow showed the ever increasing drag in their steps. They did not even bother looking around anymore, their eyes fixed straight ahead and slightly unfocused.<br />
<br />
They eventually reached another small clearing, where Carmen stopped and squinted at what she saw, despite it being still fairly bright outside. "Hey, is that a mailbox over there?" she asked, turning to the other two behind her and pointing ahead. Her two companions also squinted to see.<br />
<br />
"I think so," Will said, frowning slightly. "And a lamppost?"<br />
<br />
They walked closer, and the mailbox and lamppost grew bigger and taller in their sight. Despite it still being daylight, the lamppost was lit. Will studied it closely, and saw that it was an electric lamp, one that they would use in an urban city nowadays, despite what the landscape and the inn that had suggested otherwise. The mailbox was a typical, metal one that you would see in front of a decent house with a perfectly trimmed lawn, in that nice, bright red colour and complete with a little flag attached to the side.<br />
<br />
They all stood and stared at the mailbox for a moment. "Well, are we going to open it or not?" Kyla said, reaching for the handle and yanking the lid of the mailbox open. It just seemed like the appropriate thing to do--what else does one do with a mailbox in the middle of a forest? The lid opened vertically, facing them.<br />
<br />
Inside was a single letter. Kyla picked it up, and they saw that it was packaged in an expensive-looking envelope, the kind that glinted in a pearly, rainbow colour if you tilted it in the light. The letter was addressed, To those who hail from London. "I guess that means us?" Will said, his frown deepening in confusion.<br />
<br />
Kyle flipped the letter over, and on it was a golden seal with the same raindrop mark as was on the pamphlet. Kyla carefully pried the seal off the bottom half of the envelope, reached in and drew out a parchment-like paper that was cleanly folded into a rectangle. Unfolding the paper, the three of them bent their heads over the letter, which read:<br />
<br />
"You are cordially invited to tonight's royal banquet.<br />
<br />
Transportation, attire, and any other needs will be provided for.<br />
<br />
If you would kindly look to your left, you will see a wall of rock marking the side of the mountain. On this wall is a narrow hole the size of a walnut. It is said to be difficult for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, but I trust that you are, in fact, human beings and not camels, and thus only need to close your eyes and wish yourself through the crevice!<br />
<br />
We anxiously await your arrival."<br />
<br />
The three of them looked at each other, then Kyla pointed to the left to a layer of rock barely visible behind a clump of pine trees. "I suppose they mean those rocks over there?" she asked.<br />
<br />
Carmen and Will turned to look, and the three started walking towards the rocks. "This must be the edge of the mountain range," Will commented as they reached the wall, brushing his hand against the rough surface. "No thunderstorm like I had anticipated!"<br />
<br />
Carmen was beginning to think this whole setup to be some sort of prank again. She tried to look upwards, but the top of the wall of rock was hidden from view by the overlapping layers of pine branches, laced with patches of white. "I didn't realize we had already walked all the way to the mountains," she said slowly, frowning. "Weren't we still quite a while away from the mountains last night? I remember being able to see the snowy peak before we went into the inn."<br />
<br />
"Well, it's here whether you saw it from up close or afar last night," Kyla said, rolling her eyes. "Now what did the letter say about the hole in the rock?"<br />
<br />
She started studying the rock, and her fingers found a deep opening in the rock. Sure enough, it was approximately the size of a walnut.<br />
<br />
"You think it's this one?" she asked, putting her face closer. Carmen took a step forward but a lock of her hair was tangled with one of the overhanging branches. She sighed and craned back her neck to untangle it. Will went over to where Kyla was, and the two of them hovered over the hole peering at it when, suddenly, pop!<br />
<br />
Carmen turned back around from untangling her hair just in time to see both Kyla and Will disappear into thin air.<br />
<br />
Panic started tugging at her senses, but on the most part, she was confused. She ran to where her two friends had been just a moment ago, but there was no sign of them, not even footprints on the snow where they had been standing.<br />
<br />
That couldn't be the case though, people don't just disappear. She should look around for them. Carmen rubbed her eyes, shutting her eyelids for a split second to make sure she wasn't imagining things.<br />
<br />
But as she closed her eyes, she heard the familiar pop! and was already being whisked away through the hole.<br />
<br />
============<br />
<br />
When Carmen opened her eyes a second later, the sight that greeted her was breathtaking.<br />
<br />
Not only was she no longer at the foot of the mountain range, she was now standing on top of a green and grassy hill, overlooking a bright city overflowing with splashes of colour in every shade possible. But the city was not like London or any other city she had been to at all. It was a city that she would have had only seen as illustrations in fairytale books, the kind that were now either at the back of her closet back home, or donated to orphanages and charities.<br />
<br />
Rows of gingerbread houses were neatly lined at the sides of the city, and there were marketplaces where Carmen could see many people, and of all ages, bustling about. All the buildings--with all their multicoloured roofs made of gumballs--made way for a single, wide road in the middle of the city that lead to a grand castle that was covered in every sort of candy that existed. Carmen could pick up wafts of peppermint and toffee in the air, no doubt drifting over from the castle and propelled by the various chocolate windmills on the outskirts of the town.<br />
<br />
Outside of the residential area and closer to the chocolate windmills was a river that made its way exactly around the circumference of the city, its shape in waves and loops like a ribbon as honey-like liquid flowed through it. There was a park on the right side of the town where Carmen saw children playing on a bridge made of licorice, which was near a waterfall of the same honey liquid and cushioned at the bottom by bundles of fluffy, white marshmallows.<br />
<br />
Everything about this town was attractive, and emitted a sense of nostalgia that was somehow relatable to all its inhabitants.<br />
<br />
"Carmen!"<br />
<br />
Carmen turned her head slightly to the left and saw Kyla waving at her from below, near the bottom of the hill. Will was beside her, looking starstruck. Carmen hurried down the hill, the grass gently brushing her ankles, rustling in unison with the breeze. It only seemed appropriate that the sky was as blue as can be to match what was below it.<br />
<br />
Kyla began talking just as Carmen reached her other two companions.<br />
<br />
"Isn't this just spectacular?" she said breathlessly. "We did it, we found the candy land! I told you it existed. We did it, I did it!"<br />
<br />
Will just gave a hearty laugh and a wide grin spread on his face. Carmen looked around speechlessly in wonder. She could hardly believe where she was. It's not possible to have the same illusions as everyone else, right? She bent down to feel the grass brush against her fingers. It certainly felt real. She sighed in relief. Although she had been half expecting everything to disappear the moment she touched it, she also had been secretly hoping for it to be real.<br />
<br />
"Shouldn't we try going into the city?" Will asked, his eyes unsually round. Kyla nodded, having become too breathless to respond in words. Carmen also nodded, encouraged by the reality of what she touched. Excitement was finally starting to build inside her too, and she, too, couldn't help but break out into a smile, eager to see what awaited them.<br />
<br />
They started making their way towards the huge archway that marked the entrance to the city. The arch itself was made from black licorice twisted tens of feet into the air and woven with strings of caramel. A sign carved from pink bubblegum was framed with rainbow gumdrops, with butterscotch chips forming the words in humongous capital letters: <i>Dulce Landia</i>.<br />
<br />
Kyla took the first step through the archway, naturally, this time with both Will and Carmen following suit without a hint of hesitation. Not one of them stopped anymore to think how they ended up at this place. They were too entranced with what was presented to them, the scent of caramel and butterscotch too intoxicating to the senses.<br />
<br />
Immediately past the gate was a small neighbourhood. Adults skipped from house to house, laughing with each other and all dressed in colourful clothing made from a particular kind of material that looked light and breezy, much like silk or chiffon. A few children peered out at them from the windows of their homes, though none of them showed a hint of surprise at the presence of their new guests. Carmen spotted a little girl at the window of the house built from cola gummies, stringing what looked like a necklace of gummy cola bottles together. The little girl caught her eye, smiled sweetly and gave a shy wave before disappearing from the window.<br />
<br />
A man from the nearest house came out and greeted them. His house seemed to have been made from candy coated chocolate, as some of the candy was already chipping off the house from the man's enthusiasm in swinging his door so forcefully.<br />
<br />
"Welcome, trrravelers!" he boomed in a tenor voice that evoked an image of rich, dark chocolate.<br />
<br />
"Hello!" Will replied good-naturedly, returning the man's grin with a polite smile. "I hope we're not trespassing on private property or anything?"<br />
<br />
"You most cerrrtainly are not! Congrrratulations for making it here!" He rolled his r's in a way so exaggerated that Carmen was almost certain it was fake. It somehow diminished the fantastical element of this city for her. "How about it, a cup of licorrrice tea at my humble abode, perrrhaps? You must be exhausted, but a sip of that tea will have you currred of fatigue and rrready to go in no time! Aside from the time it'll take you to sip your tea, of courrrse." He chuckled at his own wit.<br />
<br />
Will tapped his chin thoughtfully before turning to Kyla and Carmen. "Do you two want some tea, or did you want to keep moving for now?"<br />
<br />
"Keep moving of course!" Kyla immediately declared. She nodded to the man with a big smile on her face. "Thank you for your offer, sir, but I think we'd like to get to exploring the city as soon as possible." She gestured down the road that lead deeper into the city. "There just seems to be so much for us to see, we'd like to get started on it right away!"<br />
<br />
"Oh, that is perrrfectly underrrstandable!" The man sounded like he was purring now. "Marrrtha!"<br />
<br />
A woman in a green polka-dotted apron from a few houses away hurried down the road towards them. "My oh my, are these our new guests? Look at you all, brimming with excitement! And to think that Mr. Puffin here was going to keep you all to himself for some tea!" At a closer look, the man did resemble more and more like a rather robust bird. Carmen recalled seeing some along the coast back home. Remembering that puffins existed in herds, Carmen was suddenly wary of all the other villagers, although none of them appeared remotely similar to Mr. Puffin.<br />
<br />
Another woman that had followed Martha over chirped, "Mr. Puffin, you can't invite these guests over to your house like that, that isn't fair. These are everybody's guests!"<br />
<br />
"Agreed, agreed!" cried a man sitting on the roof of his lollipop house. Nobody noticed him until then, and they all craned their necks back to look up at him. He looked a bit like the mascot from the game Monopoly, carrying a gigantic lollipop instead of a cane.<br />
<br />
A clucking sound diverted everyone's attention back to eye level."If you break another lollipop off from up there, this house is going to collapse!" a woman called up from directly below the man, sticking her head out from the window of the house. She stated it as if it were a mere fact though, and did not appear the least angry.<br />
<br />
The Monopoly man shrugged. "We can just build it again," he said before biting down on his lollipop with a firm crunch. The woman thought for a moment, then nodded in resignation before retreating back into their shelter of lollipops. Needless to say, Carmen, Kyle and Will were all fascinated by how peculiar the attitudes of the people in this neighbourhood seemed.<br />
<br />
Martha turned back to the three of them. "In any case, if you need a guide around the city, don't hesitate to call on me, okay?"<br />
<br />
"And me!" chimed in the second woman. Monopoly just nodded, his mouth too busy crunching.<br />
<br />
"Thanks, but I think we're all right for now," Will said. Kyla and Carmen nodded in agreement, and waved goodbye to the villagers as they set out down the path again.<br />
<br />
"They sure were friendly," Kyla commented.<br />
"Maybe a bit too friendly," Carmen replied.<br />
<br />
"Well, I'm sure they rarely get visitors here, so they must have been especially eager to be of help to us. Yes, I'm sure they were just excited! This place is hard to find after all," said Kyla, nodding to herself and picking up her pace. Carmen thought back to the indifferent expressions on the children's faces, and couldn't imagine how they would look on a normal day if that was considered excitement.<br />
<br />
Soon they found their way into one of the marketplaces, where stalls were set up along the sides of the road selling various toys and confectionary. "Welcome, friends!" a man called enthusiastically from his booth. "Care for a pack of Bubble Me Away? One stick of it and you can float away to your heart's desire!"<br />
<br />
"Who in their right minds would want to leave town though?" replied another man from the booth across. "Staying here is my heart's desire!" The man from the first stall roared with laughter. "True, true!" he exclaimed, no longer seeming to care if his product sold or not.<br />
<br />
Carmen and the others smiled politely and continued on their way, returning the constant stream of greetings directed at them and occassionally stopping at a few stalls to watch the owners demonstrate how to work their individual products.<br />
<br />
Carmen rather liked the non-competitive atmosphere that surrounded them. It wasn't as if one booth tried to steal another's business--in fact, Carmen wondered if any of them even aimed to actually sell anything at all. Banters were only for the purpose of conversation and not disagreements, and it seemed like everyone was there for the purpose of entertaining themselves rather than trying to make a living.<br />
<br />
As they neared the centre of the market, one man to their left tripped over a basket at his feet, knocking over a box of the chocolate oranges he was selling at his booth. The woman next to him laughed and made a comment, and the man joined in laughing as he got on his knees and started picking the oranges back up. Strangely enough, the woman did not help him but continued to talk while standing where she was. Neither did the man ask for help, continuing the conversation in a good manner while putting the oranges back in the box.<br />
<br />
Before Carmen could think anymore on this, someone grabbed Kyla's shoulder and they all jumped in surprise.<br />
<br />
"My dears, what are you doing here dawdling so long in the market?" the stranger cried. She was a middle-aged woman with curly bubblegum pink hair, wearing a mini red hat that matched her bright red business suit.<br />
<br />
"U-um, sorry?" Kyla's reply faltered out of surprise and confusion.<br />
<br />
"The royal banquet tonight, my friends!" the woman exclaimed, laughing and shaking her head in dismay. "You musn't spend all your time fawning over the market, there is entertainment much more extravagant than this for you to enjoy! You must start preparing for the banquet." She put up her hand and motioned to two people behind her, a man and a woman, who came over with equally bright smiles on their faces. "They will see to it that you are provided with what you need," she explained quickly, then nodded to her companions.<br />
<br />
They gently pushed Carmen and the others into a tent a few steps away, where a man who introduced himself as the tailor awaited them. "I will see to it that you are fitted into the most appropriate clothes for tonight," he said in a graceful manner with a hint of elegance to his tone. The three of them looked around, and saw that they were in a space that looked like a high class studio with bright, white lights hanging overhead.<br />
<br />
The woman in the bright red suit who had followed them into the tent nodded. "You can trust him to know all the latest trends, you know," she added encouragingly, her purple false lashes moving as she blinked rapidly.<br />
<br />
The tailor whispered discreetly to a young man standing near him who appeared to be his assistant, all the while gesturing to several racks of clothing. The young man nodded, the large gold earring dangling from his left ear swinging back and forth, glinting under the intense lights. His eyes brightened at what the tailor said to him and he murmured a quiet response, straightening his long legs that were dressed in black and white striped tights.<br />
<br />
After the tailor finished talking, the two girls were ushered into a room on the right by the tailor himself while Will, looking perplexed, was lead into a different room by the tailor's assistant.<br />
<br />
Both doors closed with a firm click before any of them had a chance to protest.<br />
<br />
==========<br />
<br />
Before long, Carmen and Kyla found themselves dressed each in an outfit that they would have never imagined existed, less being clothed in. After much giggling and prompting from more assistants that had appeared from behind the endless racks of clothing in the room, the two girls were stripped, refitted, and now stood in front of a huge mirror on the left that covered the entire wall from ceiling to floor.<br />
<br />
Kyla was donned in bright, royal blue dress that ended in an wide, exaggerated flare at her knees. The sleeves extended from her shoulder blades outwards in sharp angles, and the bodice of the dress complimented Kyla's figure with tight lacing running down the back. Black, sheer tights with large polka dots and bright yellow ankle boots completed her outfit.<br />
<br />
Carmen, on the other hand, was put in a black top with ridiculously large balloon sleeves, both the sleeves and the bottom hem lined with tiny, dangling pompoms. She was given a puffy fuchsia tutu to wear over grey tights and bright green high-heeled shoes that had ribbons lacing up to the middle of her calves, only slightly resembling ballerina shoes.<br />
<br />
"Well, I'd have to say, I didn't expect to get a makeover here!" Kyla said, her expression not unpleased. She took a few footsteps back and turned around, craning her neck to see the back of the dress. "This dress actually makes me look quite adorable, if I may say so myself!"<br />
<br />
"For once, I agree that this is definitely not what I had been expecting," Carmen said, staring at her own image in the mirror. She took a step to the right. Her reflection took a step in the same direction simultaneously. Startled, Carmen quickly put her right foot back next to her left. Her reflection was now standing as it had been before Carmen moved.<br />
<br />
Somehow, it was difficult for Carmen to believe that the girl reflected in the mirror in front of her was herself. Of course, the girl in the mirror moved when Carmen moved and had Carmen's face, with the same expression of indifference plastered on her face that Carmen was sure was also plastered on her own. But seeing her own image in clothes that she wouldn't even come across in London--much less try on herself--and realizing that she had somehow allowed herself to be dressed in clothes that were so unlike her, something about her struck her as unnatural, even frightening.<br />
<br />
Taking a rather brave step closer to the mirror, Carmen peered more closely at her face that was peering back at her. She stared straight at the reflection's eyes. This is me, don't act so crazy and get over it, thought Carmen. The image in the mirror continued staring back at her, its thinking eyes rather glazed.<br />
<br />
Perhaps fortunately, her thoughts were interrupted at that moment by one of the tailor's numerous assistants as she burst into the room, carrying a large tray over her head in one hand. She observed them for a second before giving a huge nod of assent, clearly pleased with what she saw.<br />
<br />
"You girls look marvelous!" she proclaimed loudly. "And that's thanks to our team again, sure is!" She set down the tray on the large dressing table and waved them over. "What are you doing staring at yourselves in the mirror and not saying a word? It's rather creepy. At least do so with a snack in your hand! Come, come, have a plum cake!"<br />
<br />
Carmen and Kyla timidly went over to the table where there were now a dozen small, pink cakes, topped with a generous flurry of whipped cream and drizzled all over in bright purple syrup. The syrup was dripping down the sides of the cakes in a rather enticing way, as if to tempt the beholder with thoughts of licking the syrup off the side and sinking one's teeth into pillows of delightful fluffiness.<br />
<br />
The assistant grabbed one herself and, holding it in her hand, took a large bite without hesitation. Kyla took a napkin from the stack beside the cakes and reached for a cake. Breathing in the sweet aroma, she looked around for a fork. Finding none, she was about to just bite into the cake when the door opened for the second time, this time, with a parade of about six people coming into their dressing room.<br />
<br />
Will was amongst them, dressed on a gaudy, red tuxedo with a bright green bow that was so big it constantly grazed his chin. On his head sat a tall, bright silver top hat and rainbow glitter clung to his clothes, miraculously without falling off. Will's shoes were the highlight of his outfit: five inch high platform boots that were made with a material similar to plastic, and they were completely clear so that Will's bare feet could be seen in them, giving an impression of him walking in thin air.<br />
<br />
He was surrounded by a few more assistants whom circled him like vultures over a carcass, scrutinizing him from top to bottom. One of them fussed over the tails of his blazer, clipping three more bows on each side before stepping back and sighing to himself in satisfaction.<br />
<br />
Will looked helplessly at the girls over the heads of his surrounding predators. The girls stared back in bewilderment. Finally, Will shrugged. "Well, looks like you two were also subjected to a similar kind of treatment," he weakly called over to them, acknowledging their outrageous outfits with a sweep of his gaze. The girls smiled helplessly and somewhat guiltily back at him.<br />
<br />
The tailor himself then came in. He looked over the three of them over without a word while his assistants quickly shuffled back so the tailor could analyze their handiwork. Then without warning, he jerked his head around and barked at this assistants, "We're a fashion studio, not a thirft store! Why, people are going to think we have a shortage of items! I want accessories on them, ac-cess-o-rieees!" He dragged each syllable in the last word, throwing up his hands in exaggerated exclamation.<br />
<br />
His words sent his assistants in a flurry. Two of them quickly wheeled out two big, red plastic crates from behind on of the reversible mirrors, while some other assistants passed several cardboard boxes down from the overhead cabinets.<br />
<br />
"Necklaces, bracelets, rings, tattoos, anything and everything!" cried the tailor. Will, Kyla and Carmen once again found themselves swarmed by the assistants suddenly attaching a series of things to their arms, ankles, and necks. Kyla was given a pair of light pink glasses that had a curious glaze to it. She looked into one of the small mirrors attached to the wall and adjusted them on her nose. As she did so, her finger went through one of the lenses and the entire lens disappeared with a pop. Alarmed, she whirled around to let one of the assistants know, but a layer of glaze was already growing back over the empty space where the previous lens had been. Intrigued, she took off the glasses and poked it again. The exact same thing happened and the lens grew back.<br />
<br />
She scrambled over to where Carmen was being seated as two assistants furiously braided shiny gold threads into her hair. "Carmen, I think these are bubbles!" Kyla said excitedly, showing Carmen her glasses. "See, I can pop them with my finger and the glasses automatically regenerate another bubble! If I had this when I was a kid, I would have gone crazy over these!"<br />
<br />
"You're still pretty crazy over them," Carmen pointed out, but Kyla didn't hear her as she was already being scolded for taking off her glasses. Someone put them back on for her and attached a few gems to the side of her face. Kyla wrinkled her nose. The sticker gems were rather scratchy and didn't feel good on her cheek, but no one took notice of her protests.<br />
<br />
"Here you are!" said one of the assistants joyfully as he slapped on a bright orange moustache just above Will's upper lip. Will frowned and tried to the adjust it since it was slapped on rather carelessly and was crooked to the left, but the assistant proceeded to swat Will's hand. "Stop it!" said the assistant. "It looks just marvelous like that."<br />
<br />
"But it's crooked," replied Will, his lip twitching from the hairs of the moustache scratching it. "And why must I put on a moustache when I don't actually have one?"<br />
<br />
"Why must you question everything?!" cried the assistant, flailing his arms. "Does one question the essence of art? Must you measure exactly the position of the moustache to the very millimetre?" Will gave a look of exasperation but said nothing.<br />
<br />
The tailor chuckled, his own dark brown moustache swinging. His appeared to be real, though heavily waxed. "Don't worry, that moustache is most definitely the latest trend. Show it off tonight and you will be a star!" He turned to the mirror to give his own moustache a quick twirl, fixing its shape. Then, spotting the reflection of his wristwatch in the mirror, he gave a shout. "Oh golly me! It's time for the ball, the carriage should be here already! Hurry up now, put on the last finishing touches and out the door they go!"<br />
<br />
In a desperate last effort, a few of his assistants grabbed a jar of glitter off the overhead shelf and dumped it all over the three travelers.<br />
<br />
"All right, all right, off you go!" the assistant with the plum cakes feverntly nudged them back out of the dressing room and past the curtains of the tent. The three of them found themselves back outside and, on top of that, with a grand carriage the size of a boxcar waiting for them.<br />
<br />
Kyla gasped in delight. "This carriage is for us?!" she cried gleefully.<br />
<br />
"It is now!" said someone to the right. The woman in the red suit was standing there waiting for them. She nodded in approval at their appearance. "It appears we match now, good sir!" she said to Will, batting her long eyelashes and flashing him a wide-tooth smile, glittering purple gems implanted into each of her two front teeth. Will smiled politely in return, taking a step back to grind his foot on Carmen's as she snickered behind him.<br />
<br />
"Ouch!" Carmen stopped snickering. "Watch it, those shoes of yours hurt! Remember, you're not wearing sneakers anymore."<br />
<br />
"Oh, oops," said Will a little sheepishly. "Sorry, forgot I was wearing these."<br />
<br />
"Well, come on, Cinderella," called Kyla, giggling. "We can't keep these people waiting." A middle-aged man wearing a very tall wizard's hat jumped off from the front of the carriage and opened the door for her. "Thank you," Kyla told him. "So where are we heading now?"<br />
<br />
The man looked taken aback, putting up a hand to adjust his blue hat that had been drooping forward. "To the ball, of course!" he replied, bewildered at her question. "What in the world else would a carriage be for?"<br />
<br />
"Do you know when the ball starts?"<br />
<br />
"When you arrive!"<br />
<br />
Kyla laughed and playfully swatted the man on the arm before graciously taking his hand and stepping into the carriage.<br />
<br />
"Go on now," said the lady in the red suit, placing each of her hands behind Will and Carmen and giving them a slight push. Will hopped into the carriage easily with one foot, while Carmen slowly went up the three small steps with the help of the man in the wizard hat.<br />
<br />
"Careful now!" the man said good-naturedly. "You must be nervous since it's your first ball. But don't worry, young miss, you look absolutely brilliant!"<br />
<br />
Carmen gave a quick smile in return and nodded in thanks, though that was not the reason why she was so hesitant in boarding the carriage. Once she got into the carriage and lowered herself onto one of the pink cushion seats, she looked around curiously. "Why are there no windows to this carriage?" she asked.<br />
<br />
"Don't you worry about a thing, it'll only be a short ride to the castle!" the man said, not hearing her question. "You have your letter of invitation with you, yes? Yes, that's the one. You only need to show that at the door and they will let you in right away!" And before any of them could utter a word in response, he bowed politely and shut the door of the carriage with a snap.<br />
<br />
After a few seconds, the carriage lurched slightly and began to move. Soft piano music began to play in the background and they caught a mild scent of floral inside the carriage. The two tiny chandeliers hanging overhead swung very softly but noiselessly. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, looking around and at each other, too bewildered by the bizarre adventure they suddenly realized themselves to be in.<br />
<br />
Finally, Will broke the silence. "You girls don't look too bad," he said with a small smile.<br />
<br />
"And your moustache is looking mighty trendy," Carmen said in reply. They all laughed.<br />
<br />
"What do you suppose we'll be doing at this ball?" Kyla wondered aloud. Not knowing the answer to Kyla's question, the other two shrugged, and they silently sank back into their seats and closed their eyes, the sound of the piano tinkling softly away in the background like drops of water in a small pond.<br />
<br />
About a quarter hour later, the carriage slowed to a stop and the door opened soon after. The man in the wizard's hat appeared from behind the door and greeted them again with a small bow. Curiously, he seemed to be wearing a different hat than before, for it was now bright pink with a crystal ball-like object on top. "We're here, my dear guests," he said, giving them his polite smile.<br />
<br />
The three of them got out of the carriage, and giving them a final bow with more flourish than before, the man hopped back onto the front seat and began to drive away before any of them could thank him, all the while humming an upbeat tune to himself.<br />
<br />
Nearing footsteps had the three of them turn around. A man in a purple, military-like uniform descended the large flight of stairs that led from the front doors of the castle and came towards them. "Good evening ladies, gentleman," he said in a formal manner, nodding to them in acknowledgment. "Might you have a letter of authorization with you?"<br />
<br />
Kyla reached inside one of the hidden pockets of her blue dress and extracted the letter they had found in the mailbox back in the forest. "You mean this?" she asked.<br />
<br />
The guard took the letter with both hands, and opening it up, he grinned. "Yes, very well! Welcome to the royal palace. It is our greatest pleasure to receive you at the royal ball happening tonight!" He waved his hand in a sweeping action and gestured towards the front door. "This way please, dear guests! I will show you in myself."<br />
<br />
He began to ascend the stairs again and the three travelers followed suit. Strangely enough, the stairs only looked steep but was fairly easy to walk up, and with each step, Carmen was feeling a sense of excitement bubbling inside her.<br />
<br />
They reached the large castle doors and with a very gentle push from the guard, the doors swung open swiftly and easily, revealing a bright light that clouded their vision for a brief moment.<br />
<br />
============<br />
<br />
A humungous balloon the size of five watermelons and in the shape of a sunflower floated across Carmen's vision, the face painted on its surface smiling at the newly arrived guests. It bobbed in front of them briefly before floating gently away to another side of the room, propelled by the waves of apple and cinnamon in the air.<br />
<br />
The three of them stood there soaking in the scene. It was like nothing they had ever seen before, as if someone combined the set used in a Victorian movie with actors from a circus show. A group of women dressed in extravagant Victorian evening dresses skipped past them, giggling hysterically at what one of them said, their bonnets slightly crooked to the left not unlike Will's moustache. Two other women stood near them, dressed in bright blue with peacock feathers sprouting from the backs of their outfits. They alternated in showing each other creative dance moves, their feet moving in a complicated manner and oddly fitting with their peacock-like attire.<br />
<br />
Kyla sneezed. It was then that they realized feathers falling from somewhere above, the lights too bright for any of them to see the ceiling above. The feathers fluttered down sparsely but steadily, piles of it scattered here and there on the floor. It didn't seem right to see the beautifully polished floor of a palace ballroom to be so littered with feathers and other accessories that various guests had dropped, but no one seemed to care.<br />
<br />
On the far side of the room, there was a large area designated as the dance floor, where a large crowd of people in an assortment of colourful costumes danced with one another. Some danced the waltz, some the tango, some the polka, and others appeared to be fist pumping to an invisible rock concert. The live orchestra placed on the left side of the room appeared to be entirely separate from the dancing. They seemed to be playing a form of jazz, a smaller crowd of people surrounding them and clapping to their music, all the while chatting amongst themselves.<br />
<br />
The room did not have any windows, but tall mirrors were secured frequently along the sides of the room so that it gave the room a much more spacious atmosphere, yet a sense of the room being an oddly contained dimension within many other dimensions.<br />
<br />
The three travelers slowly made their way across the room, treading carefully in their new shoes. They weren't sure if the clothes they were wearing were theirs to keep, so it was best that they didn't get any of it dirty in case they were only borrowed. They were greeted frequently by other guests in the hall, sometimes even receiving a kiss on the cheek from complete strangers, much to Carmen's dismay and Kyla's surprise. Will, especially, seemed to constantly attract groups of middle-aged ladies fawning over his shoes (his bare feet embarrassingly in plain sight) or the charm in the curl of his moustache.<br />
<br />
Since they weren't sure where else to go, the three of them decided to head over the to the long rows of tables abundant with all sorts of entrees and desserts. When they went closer to the food, though, they saw that what they thought were entrees were, in fact, a different sort of sweet. There were all kinds of cakes that none of them had every seen before; of course, there were the ordinary ones like carrot cake and other fruit cakes. But when Kyla braved a bite out of a slice of cake yellowish in colour, she discovered that it was a cake that tasted of sweet potato, like she was chewing a mouthful of fluffy, mashed potatoes.<br />
<br />
Someone tapped Carmen on the shoulder and shoved a plate with a slice of cake in her hand. "Here, try this!" the woman said encouragingly, and left without introducing herself. She looked at Will, who shrugged and took a bite of the cake in place of her.<br />
<br />
"Mmm, it has a taste of chicken and mushroom," Will described, chewing thoughtfully. "The cake is really moist and creamy, it's rather like a soup!"<br />
<br />
"Hey, this cake melts the moment you put it in your mouth, like cotton candy!" Kyla happily called over to them, revealing her tongue now dyed blue from the cake she had on her plate. She proceeded to take a small slice each of the five cakes nearest to her. Carmen hesitated for a second, but the smell of pastries was so overwhelming that she couldn't help but pick up a plate herself. The image of the round, blood orange cake a few metres away reminded her strongly of the orange tree her grandparents grew in their backyard, and she felt her mind drifting away in bliss as she slowly sank her teeth into the pillows of flour, drowning in its nostalgic tang.<br />
<br />
Kyla began to chat away with a group of girls around her age that were hovering near the differently coloured bowls of fruit punch. Will contented himself with listening to two other young men explaining the many different ways to don a moustache, occasionally helping himself to a new bowl of plum pudding or creme brulee.<br />
<br />
"Hey, I noticed you're new here!" a young woman in her twenties danced over to where Carmen was standing, finishing her slice of orange cake. Carmen smiled, a little more energetic now that she had something in her stomach. "Yeah, we're from London," she replied, reaching for a glass of bubbling champagne-like substance.<br />
<br />
"London! Now that sounds exotic. Not that it sounds particularly interesting, if you don't mind me saying," the woman explained. "Just exotic. I'm Hatty, by the way." She herself took a glass of green fruit punch. Hatty had heavy pink eyeshadow on with metallic purple eyeliner that complimented her violet, polka-dotted mini dress. She also had on shiny, padded silver boots, like she just came back from a space mission and only had time to change into a dress but didn't get around to her shoes.<br />
<br />
"I'm Carmen. I'm not really used to balls like this, so what's the occasion exactly?"<br />
<br />
Hatty looked confused. "Occasion?"<br />
<br />
"Like, what are you celebrating?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing yet. Or at least not that I know of. Is it your birthday?"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
"Then we're not celebrating anything."<br />
<br />
Will came over at that moment, saying a polite hello to Hatty and introducing himself. It appears he had tired of the topic of moustaches. "Nice party, isn't it?" he commented.<br />
<br />
Hatty shrugged. "The usual! But I do rather adore the outfit on that woman standing over there, I wonder which studio she got it at." She gestured with her chin at a lady near the chocolate fountain wearing a nude suit, a blue corset around her waist and an assortment of fruit dangling in strings around her hips like a skirt.<br />
<br />
"That's... interesting," said Will, unsure of what else to say about it.<br />
<br />
"Isn't it? Now that's what I call creative," Hatty sighed, her eyes following the lady for a little while longer before focusing her attention back on Will and Carmen. A young couple came over to their group and introduced themselves as Hatty's friends.<br />
<br />
"Hatty dear, there's something off about your outfit today," her friend said shrilly.<br />
<br />
"You think?" Hatty asked, her brow creasing in worry. "Do you think it's this necklace? I told the stylist hot pink was out of season! Purple is the new pink."<br />
<br />
"Pink is never the new pink," agreed her friend.<br />
<br />
"So... what brings you here?" Will asked politely to the second friend, seeing the bored expression on the young man's face.<br />
<br />
The young man's expression pulled into an expression of slight confusion. "Same reason as you, I suppose."<br />
<br />
That made Will stop to think for a while. And what reason would that be? What is he doing here?<br />
<br />
Carmen surveyed the crowd. "So where are the king and queen?" she asked. "Is there going to be an announcement when they show up?"<br />
<br />
"What are you talking about?" asked Hatty. "We don't have a king or queen!"<br />
<br />
Now it was both Carmen and Will's turn to be confused. "But you said this is a royal banquet," said Carmen.<br />
<br />
"It is!"<br />
<br />
"Shouldn't there be, you know, royalty at a royal banquet?"<br />
<br />
"Not necessarily," Hatty shrugged, a little perplexed at being asked such a ridiculous question.<br />
<br />
"A grand party must have a suitably grand title, don't you think?" Hatty's friend chimed in. "I think 'royal banquet' is a pretty adequate title for a nice ball like this. Doesn't mean there has to be royalty!"<br />
<br />
"These banquets have me looking forward to something everyday," the other friend added. "Makes life more exciting." He nodded solemnly, holding his plate of cake in front of him like a devout Christian and his Bible.<br />
<br />
"Exactly, what else would you do with this abundance of sweets that we have?"<br />
<br />
At that moment, Carmen caught Kyla's eye from a distance. Kyla was standing with a new group of chattering ladies, but even she was starting to have a rather tired expression on her face that showed her overall disinterest. Suddenly, as if snapping awake from a daze, Carmen decided she had enough of this ridiculousness.<br />
<br />
"Will, I'm pretty tired, it's been a long day," she said loudly, turning to Will. "Do you want to find a place to retire for the night? I'll go get Kyla." Will began to nod in assent, and Kyla, catching the hint that her two friends wanted to leave, began to head over in their direction when the ladies she had been chatting with suddenly stopped talking and ran to catch up with Kyla.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going?!" Carmen could hear one of them crying to Kyla.<br />
<br />
"Oh, I'm just going to find my two friends over there," said Kyla.<br />
<br />
"By the way, would you happen to know of a vacant place we can stay over for the night?" Will asked Hatty and her friends. "We won't be much of a bother, I reckon we'll head back home in the morning."<br />
<br />
"Just one night is fine," nodded Carmen.<br />
<br />
"Oh, but you can't leave yet!" Hatty cried. "The night's just begun, and you haven't even tried the new lollipops yet! It's a new product!"<br />
<br />
"I'm really rather tired," Carmen replied apologetically, just as Kyla and a few other ladies reached where they were standing.<br />
<br />
"Please!" piped in Hatty's friend. "Chat with us a bit more! Come have some fun!"<br />
<br />
Kyla tried to come to the rescue. "To be honest, we're all worn out. How about this," she tried. "We can meet up in the morning for some coffee and we can chat again tomorrow!"<br />
<br />
"I'd like to find a hotel and go to bed earlier today myself," agreed Will.<br />
<br />
One of the ladies from the group Kyla had been talking to stalked over. "Children can only go to bed when are sent to do so," she proclaimed.<br />
<br />
The three travelers stared at her in bewilderment.<br />
<br />
"But we aren't children anymore," Will said, trying to put on a smile.<br />
<br />
Someone else replied, "Ah, but you were intrigued by the thought of candy like children, and came looking for a child's pleasure. So a child's treatment is what you will receive!"<br />
<br />
"What's wrong with being children anyway?" A man's voice called.<br />
<br />
"Why we're all children here!"<br />
<br />
"Yes, that's right!"<br />
<br />
"By staying children, we can keep out innocence and not be restricted by boring things that you folk are used to," a woman close by explained to them. "The society from which the three of you came from, we're not to be bothered by restrictions they try to impose on us!"<br />
<br />
"Hear, hear!"<br />
<br />
"I'd like to keep eating all the cake I want!"<br />
<br />
"Candy!"<br />
<br />
"Pudding!"<br />
<br />
"Can-dy! Can-dy!"<br />
<br />
The chanting and building enthusiasm continued to grow and the crowd suddenly became overwhelmingly loud and rambunctious. Even Hatty and her friends joined in the cheers.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, a loud voice magnified by invisible audio speakers pierced through all the noise. "Attention ladies and gentleman!" A rich but not too deep man's voice boomed. "I am proud to finally announce the main dessert that you have all been waiting for! The highlight of tonight, my friends--come one, come all!"<br />
<br />
All of them suddenly turned towards the far right side of the room, where a stage had been set up with large, bright red curtains shielding the center of the stage. This appeared to be a regular event, for everyone seemed to know exactly where to move towards at the sound of the announcer's voice, chattering in hushed voices but with audible excitement.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(<i>To be continued</i>)</span>vincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867603353403978944.post-42017678021493407992011-11-12T11:42:00.001-08:002011-12-07T23:27:47.126-08:00The Lipstick Thief<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0"> "Welcome to S**** Department Store!"</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Dressed
in a white blouse, light blue vest and a matching skirt, the lady at
the door smiled brightly at me. She offered me a basket. I pulled the
corners of my mouth into a smile, shook my head politely and made my way
further into the store. I just felt like browsing today.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Christmas
was just around the corner and decorations have been up all around the
city for well over a month now. Huge signs that said </span><i><span class="c0 c3">The perfect gift for your partner!</span></i><span class="c0"> or </span><i><span class="c0 c3">Running out of time? Last minute gift ideas!</span></i><span class="c0"> were
posted on the walls over racks of winter clothing. A group of high
school girls crowded around one of the jewelry counters, admiring the
newest winter collection from Jill Stuart. Tinsel and ornaments hanging
overhead swayed slightly to yet another version of "Jingle Bells"
playing in the background--it was definitely the air of Christmas.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0"> </span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">It
had been a long day of work at the office, though not anything out of
the ordinary. Making coffee, photocopying, typing away at the
computer--the usual. My coworkers and I shared a short lunch break
earlier at noon. A girl from another department had just found out she
was pregnant over the weekend and was ecstatic in sharing the news with
us. So we had spent the entire hour talking about how baby rooms should
best be painted yellow and not grey, and how she will have to cut back
on a lot of food this holiday.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Speaking
of which, I haven't had any holiday desserts or anything even mildly
festive so far this season. I suppose we have a Christmas tree set up at
my workplace, complete with snowflake ornaments and a star on top.
There were flashing, rainbow LED lights strung around the tree at the
beginning of the month, until one coworker a few seats away from me
complained that she had a history of epilepsy in her family, and the
lights were gone the next morning.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Anyway,
so I guess it was a good thing that I decided to drop by the department
store after work this evening. I don't usually give out Christmas
presents, so I skip out on holiday shopping and crowd pushing every year
(plus it's more economical this way, you start to see how much you save
after a few years!), but I suppose I could buy a box of chocolates for
my neighbour, who graciously gave me a hand when one of the water pipes
in my apartment broke last week.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
loosened the button on my suit jacket and fixed the handbag straps that
were starting to slide down my shoulder. The red heels I was wearing
today went </span><i><span class="c0 c3">clack, clack, clack</span></i><span class="c0"> on
the tiled floor in a rhythmic but relatively dignified manner (I thought) as I
strode quickly to the stairs. I went down to the basement level where
the bakeries and cafes were, eventually deciding on a box of Godiva
chocolates. It was a special Christmas set with white and milk
chocolates delicately crafted into shapes of snowflakes and mini
snowmen. I picked up the box, paid for it at the counter and had them
package it nicely for me in a gift bag. The girl in the apron behind the
counter tied a ribbon on the handles of the bag, and handed it to me
with a big smile and a "Thank you, come again!".</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
took the escalator back upstairs and wandered absently into a few
stores, nodding or shaking my head politely at store attendants who
approached me asking if I needed any help. Running my hands over some of
the winter coats and trying on a few pairs of gloves, I eventually
wandered over to the cosmetics section where racks of foundation,
liners, mascara, lipsticks, along with any other kind of make up in
existence were neatly lined up in every aisle. Mostly women browsed
through the section, though there were also a few couples and some
middle to high school students.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Truth
is, I had accidentally dropped my salmon pink lipstick into the toilet a
few days ago at work, so I was in need of a new one. I found the
lipsticks aisle and took one of the samples from Maybelline, trying it
on the back of my left hand. Not quite the colour I was looking for. I
put it back. As I took a step back to get a better look at the whole
collection, the side of my bag bumped into someone standing behind me.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">It
was a man in a black, fleece jacket and beige trousers, wearing a large
green t-shirt underneath and a navy baseball cap on his head that read
"F1 WORLD CHAMPION 2007". He had an average face and looked to be at
most thirty. I murmured an "excuse me" and bobbed my head in apology. He
nodded in return and we both turned our attention back to the display
of lipsticks. I bent down and reached for a pink lip gloss on the bottom
rack.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Why are there </span><span class="c0">so </span><span class="c0">many shades of lipstick?" the man suddenly said.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
raised my head. Looking around, there was no one standing in this aisle
save the man and myself. I placed the lip gloss back on the shelf and
gingerly straightened up. My right knee cracked.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Sorry?" I asked hesitantly, unsure of whether he had been speaking to me or not.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"The lipstick," he said, gesturing to the shelf in a sweeping motion. "Is it really necessary to have so many colours?"</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He
crossed his arms, leaning forward and peering at the top rack.
"Each person only has one pair of lips, how many colours does a girl need?
Why does it matter if your lips are"--he picked up a lipstick from the
rack and read--"</span><i><span class="c0 c3">misty cloud pink</span></i><span class="c0"> or"--picking up another one--"</span><i><span class="c0 c3">forever peachy</span></i><span class="c0">? I just don't get it." He glanced at me. "Sorry to be rude, but how many lipsticks do you have?"</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Er,"
I said, taken aback at the sudden question and trying to think how many
lipsticks I have crammed into the drawer in my room. "I have a few…"</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"But you want to buy another one," he pointed out.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Well… yes."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Why?"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I shifted my weight to my other foot. "I dropped my lipstick last week and lost it, so I want to replace it."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The man looked puzzled. "But if you're looking to replace something, shouldn't you already know which one you're getting?"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"I
don't think they make the one I used before anymore," I explained
defensively. "So I'm looking for a similar colour. Or maybe I'll find a
new colour I like and get that instead." I shrugged. I don't even know
why I'm explaining this to a male stranger.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The man looked unsatisfied by my answer. "So, what you mean is," he said slowly, looking thoughtful, "that you </span><i><span class="c0 c3">enjoy</span></i><span class="c0"> shopping for a new lipstick, like it's not an obligation but a<i> leisure</i> activity."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
thought about that. "I guess so," I replied. "I had a long day at work,
so why not? Taking a walk around a department store sounds like a
mighty good idea to me. They've got the music and everything." I waved
my hand overhead as I said this, although I'm not sure why I did that
since the background music is technically all around us and not over our
heads. I quickly put my hand back down.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"So
shopping is just a leisure walk. What about that bag in your hand?" The
man looked pointedly at the Godiva bag I had looped around my left
wrist.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"I bought this as a Christmas present because I </span><span class="c0 c3">want</span><span class="c0"> to
give one," I said stubbornly, trying to push out of my mind that I did,
in fact, buy the chocolates more out of obligation for my neighbour
than anything.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man shook his head a little mournfully. "I would bet," he started
saying, "that you bought those chocolates out of obligation.” He
scratched his chin. “First of all, chocolates are almost always an
obligatory gift. Friends don't give friends chocolate. Second of all,
Godiva is an awfully expensive brand of chocolate to buy for 'leisure'
when you're obviously working an at most <i>average</i>, office job." He raised
his eyebrows pointedly at my attire as he said this. "Lastly, if you
really enjoyed shopping for someone else, you would take the time to do
it on a weekend and not on the way home from work."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape, offended. Who does this man think he is? I opened my mouth wider to say something back.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Of
course," he continued, "you might be thinking, 'What right does this
man have to talk in such a way about me? He doesn't even look like he
has a job or a life!' And you're right about that." He uncrossed his
arms and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I went to a
junior college and studied engineering, but my grades weren't up to par
so I had to eventually drop out. It's been five years since and I still
haven't been able to find a proper job, getting just enough money to pay
rent from my part time job, and some from my parents who live out in
the country. My parents must be thinking why they even bothered raising
me, they aren't getting anything back for it." He was now looking down,
distractedly rubbing the tip of his sneaker on a mark on the tiled
floor.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">At this point, I wasn't sure of what to say to that, so I kept silent for a while, also staring at the mark on the floor.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He
sighed. "It's not like I like this kind of life, or that I don't want
to go to school or work," he said. "But I guess I just don't have the
luck needed to survive in this kind of society. I wasn’t born into a
rich family. I don't have the brains, or the looks, or the physical
capability to do physical labour, or even dream of playing for a sports
team, anything. But it seems you need at least one of those things to
earn yourself a space in our world. People who have found this kind of
space in their work or social life, or maybe in their family, are so
lucky. They're worlds apart from me."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He stopped as a particularly loud couple walked past our aisle, the sound of giggling and the </span><i><span class="c0 c3">clack, clack, clack</span></i><span class="c0"> from
the girl's shoes fading in and out of our hearing. Has the clacking of
own my heels also made someone feel this miserable before? It just
occurred to me.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I pursed my lips. "It's not like everyone who has a job feels like they have a place necessarily," I said.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man looked at me and smiled sadly. "You would say that. People who
already have some sort of place, a comfortable routine, always say that.
It's because you do have a place that you can say it so effortlessly.
You don't know the fear in falsely blending in with everyone, but
actually wanting to scream at them, 'Look at me! Give me a place too!'
But no one will pay attention, because they're too preoccupied with
their own daily routines that provide that feeling of security for them,
without them even knowing it."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He
leaned lightly against the shelf and pointed to the banner hanging
overhead a few aisles away from us. I stepped to the left to
look at it. The banner had a red background with a smiling snowman, and
snowflakes floated around rainbow letters that read <i>It's Christmas!
The feeling of happiness is everywhere!</i></span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"It's
not that I want to be bitter during Christmastime," the man said. His
expression was not of resentment but more of resignation. "But I'm just not
feeling the vibe. 'Happiness is everywhere', yeah right. Who made up
such an irresponsible phrase?"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He straightened up again and reached out to take a few </span><i><span class="c0 c3">glitter rose</span></i><span class="c0">
lipsticks off the shelf. He turned them over in his hand, studying the
shiny, silver box packaging of each one. "It's not that I feel angry
from people celebrating everywhere," he said, more quietly this time.
"But it's the feeling of being estranged from such happiness that
everyone but me seems to see, the act they put on of being part of
something big and illuminating yet abstract. And this kind of confusion
just ties a knot inside me, like something tightening and choking me yet
I can't seem to loosen it. Eventually you'll get tired of trying to
untie it. This whole unseen Christmas thing, the suffocating atmosphere
of it just builds up a little each day, until one day it'll just come
crashing down."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He
closed his fingers over the lipstick boxes and looked up at me. He gave
a gloomy smile. "Sorry, you don't even know what I'm talking about and
I'm probably disrupting your schedule."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I shook my head. "It's all right. Everyone needs to get things off their chest sometimes."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Yeah," he said. "At least you're not too openly judgmental, unlike some other people. A minority, if you will."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Well…
I don't think I'm all that sympathetic," I said uncertainly, "but I
suppose I try not to. Anyway, you can't stop people from feeling how
they feel."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man chuckled. He reached up to pull his navy cap down to cover his
eyes. "Well then, in that case. I suppose I can't be blamed for this
either, right?"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">And
before I could ask what he meant, he grabbed a few more lipsticks from
the shelf and stuffed them into his pockets, taking some from the top
rack and then reaching down to pull a few more lip glosses off the
shelf. At that moment, a store attendant happened to walk past our aisle
and saw the man taking the things off the shelf. She almost tripped
over her own shoes from the surprise before starting towards us.
"Thief!" she cried.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man glanced up at the sound of her cry. Then he turned and, hurriedly
pushing past me, broke off into a run. "There's a thief!" the attendant
cried again to her coworkers who were hurrying over. "Someone call
security!"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
watched as her coworkers closer to the cashier scuttled about. One
reached for the phone and pressed a button, tapping her pen on the
counter impatiently while waiting for someone to pick up. Two other
women in uniforms stood off to one side and, huddling together, tried to
explain to each other what each of them thought was going on. The store
attendant who had seen the man run off with the lipsticks marched back
and forth, making it her business to tell any passing coworker that
there was a thief on the loose, and then watching them scurry away to
tell the others.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"This
<i> always</i> happens during Christmastime," I heard her mutter under her
breath to the pair of huddling women. The women nodded sympathetically.
All this I observed in under ten seconds, and having stood here unmoving
for that long, I suddenly made a decision.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Tightening
my hold on the straps of my bag, I started sprinting in the direction
that the man had run towards. I had seen him go past the escalators and
into the jewelry section, no doubt trying to make it to the front doors.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Luckily,
what I didn't mention before was that although I work an average, nine
to five office job, I also sleep early and get up at six every morning
for an hour of jogging before I'm off to work. That is a routine I had
set for myself--something I added to my average lifestyle, perhaps as a
sort of rhythm setter for the rest of the day. I'm not particularly </span><i><span class="c0 c3">good</span></i><span class="c0"><i> </i>at
running, mind you. But when I run, I feel as if I've created a closed
space around myself and that I'm the only one in this space. It's all in
my head of course, but it makes me feel relieved, and relaxed enough to
go through the rest of my day in an office that's perfectly capable of causing
claustrophobia.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
put all my amateur athletic training to use and ran as fast as I could.
I could see the man now, not thirty feet away from the doors.
Impressively enough, the man maneuvered around other shoppers and was
making his way across the store without jostling anyone else. But I was
determined to do this. As the man passed by the Max&Co. eye wear
counter, he suddenly skidded to avoid bumping into a little girl who unfortunately happened to wander into his path. A lipstick flew out of
his pocket. The
man looked down, saw the lipstick but didn't stop to pick it up.
Instead, he regained his balance and was about to close the last fifteen
feet between the doors and himself. I took this slight pause in his
running to speed up, my red heels going </span><i><span class="c0 c3">clack, clack, clackclackclack</span></i><span class="c0"><i> </i>as
I dashed my fastest towards him. Throwing aside the Godiva gift bag, I
wound up and swung my Céline tote as hard as I could right into the side
of the man's head.</span></div>
<div class="c1 c2">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Fortunately,
the project my team at the office was working on this month was
marketing our client's product in Frankfurt, so I've been carrying a
hardcover Oxford German Dictionary in my bag everyday. That's probably
what made the dull<i> </i></span><span class="c0 c3"><i>clunk</i> </span><span class="c0">as my bag made contact with his skull.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">With the wind knocked out of him, the man toppled over onto the ground with an </span><i><span class="c0 c3">oomph</span></i><span class="c0">,
landing on his left arm and with his baseball cap knocked off his head.
Before he could even make out a groan, I pounced onto his back so he
wouldn't be able to get back up, digging my knee firmly into it, and
smacked my heavy bag against the back of his head to keep him down. He
yelped slightly and twisted his neck back to see who his awkward captor
was. When he saw that it was me, the random woman whom he had
unfortunately picked to talk to in the lipstick aisle, his eyes widened
for a second. </span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Wha-what in the world do you think you're doing?" he
sputtered.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
didn't answer right away, trying to catch my own breath while keeping
my knee pressed into his back. I honestly hadn't thought about what I
was going to do after I caught this man. I was just another fellow
shopper; whether he stole or not wasn't really my business at all. People
browsing in the jewelry section all had their heads turned to see what
the ruckus was about.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">At that moment, one thing I did want to say came to mind though.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"I
think," I panted, trying to speak as fast and as discreetly as I could
while still out of breath, "that you should try running."</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He
blinked in a moment of shock and gave me a look like I was insane. I
don't blame him. "It's really good for stress," I added, ignoring the
surrounding stares.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man, too, stared at me for a moment longer. Then he started laughing.
Not in a maniacal way, perhaps just at how preposterous this whole
situation was in addition to what I had to say after. He coughed a few
times from laughing and trying to catch his breath at the same time
after running. I almost broke into a slight smile myself.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">But
three security guards decided to arrive at the scene before I had the
chance to, and my attention was drawn elsewhere. Two of the security
guards bent down, one of them painfully twisting the man's arms behind
his back while the other held down his legs, both of them shouting at
the man at the same time (in a rather incomprehensible manner, I
thought) which rendered the shouting to be rather ineffective. The remaining guard touched me on the shoulder and said, "It's
all right now, ma'am, we've got it under control." I let him take my
arm, pulling me to my feet and gently urging me away from the man who
was still struggling with the security guards.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Stay down, I said <i>stay down</i>!" barked one of the guards.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Where
are the stolen items, thief? Hand them over!" the other one ordered the
man, although I didn’t see how the man would have been able to do so with his
arms bent behind him like that.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">More
store staff arrived at the scene and surrounded the struggling men,
including the woman who had caught him stealing. "He took some
lipsticks!" she said to a female security guard at the side. "I checked
the stock data, what we have missing from the shelf are two </span><i><span class="c0 c3">glitter rose</span></i><span class="c0">, three </span><i><span class="c0 c3">forever peachy</span></i><span class="c0">, three </span><i><span class="c0 c3">majick mania</span></i><span class="c0"> glosses… possibly one of the<i> </i></span><i><span class="c0 c3">grapefully yours</span></i><span class="c0"> lip balms…"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Another
staff person, one of the managers I'm guessing, relayed this to another
security guard, who then went over to the man. "Do you know what you've
done, sir?" the guard asked. "Why did you do it?"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man didn't answer, but he was still chuckling a bit to himself. I
wonder if it was from our short exchange just now. The security guard
became impatient. "Do you realize," he said more menacingly, "that
because </span><i><span class="c0 c3">you</span></i><span class="c0"> decided
to steal a few petty, feminine products, that you've disturbed what
would have been an enjoyable Christmas shopping experience for<i> </i></span><i><span class="c0 c3">everyone</span></i><span class="c0"> in this store?"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man continued to ignore the security guard. Annoyed and obviously
unused to being ignored, the guard shooed the other guards off and
roughly turned the man over. "<i>I'm asking you why you stole the items, DO
YOU UNDERSTAND</i>?"he roared, grabbing the man by his shoulders and
shaking him.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Surprised,
the man shoved back away from him but the guard grabbed him by the
wrists. Helpless, the man finally took the chance to look at his
surroundings, as he had been unable to do so while being on the floor.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">Shoppers
stood frozen in their places, looks of fear and distaste on their
faces. About ten staff members were scattered around the scene, and five
security guards stood attentively. All for this one man. The man surely
must have come to this realization too, because a crooked smile grew on
his face and he began to laugh again. He laughed loud and clear, his
voice booming and echoing off everything in the store.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"So, </span><span class="c0 c3"><i>this</i>,</span><span class="c0"> is what attention is like," he gasped hysterically. "All my life, I've wanted </span><i><span class="c0 c3">this</span></i><span class="c0">." His expressions switched between contentment and disbelief, as if he couldn't decide between the two. He kept laughing.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
guard, clearly taken aback, didn't know how to react to this sudden
outburst. I could hear murmuring all through the crowd. "Haven't we
gotten a lot of these crazies lately? I’ve seen them on TV," an older
lady whispered to another woman, perhaps a little too loudly for it to
be discreet.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="c0">"I can understand that he feels miserable, but why does he
have to bother everyone? We've all got our own problems," another man
said to his friend.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="c0">His friend nodded, frowning, and said, "Serves him
right, don't know why you have to steal and throw a tantrum when you can
just </span><span class="c0 c3"><i>pay</i> </span><span class="c0">for the
damn thing."</span><br />
<br />
<span class="c0">The boy next to them laughed at this, his high pitched
laugh piercing through the low murmur. He exclaimed, "He freaking stole
lipsticks! This dude is </span><i><span class="c0 c3">desperate</span></i><span class="c0">!"
A pause, and small chuckles all too readily rippled through the
shoppers, like it was a shared joke that everyone pretended to
reluctantly find amusing.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I also stood there, frozen to the spot, the horrible lynch scene dawning upon me. I was flooded with a sense of shame.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">At
this, the man finally snapped. "It's true!" he shouted over the growing
din, and the crowd immediately stopped talking to stare back at him.
"I'm not married and don't have my own family at my age! I don't even have a
girlfriend--in fact, I never have!" His lopsided smile was still plastered on his face, and his
voice grew incrementally louder.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"I
stole the lipsticks because I wanted to see how it feels to hold a
women’s product in my hands, and to leave with one. Pretending that
someone is waiting for me outside to hand it them, like I am needed by
someone else. I wanted the thrill of peering into a different world,
even if that's just stepping into the cosmetics section of a department
store and leaving with something in hand." He looked around wildly,
looking pleased with what he was announcing to the world.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"There,
are you happy now? Have you heard what you wanted to hear from me? I'm
exactly the sort of person you are thinking me to be," he finished,
chuckling to himself.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
crowd did, indeed, look satisfied in their looks of pure disgust. They
have their evidence now; this pitiful creature said it himself. He is
indeed what they had assumed him to be: the dirt under their feet that
they were all going to go home, clean up and forget about--but in the
meantime, rub under their shoes.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
guards, recovering from the surprise at his outburst, quickly shuffled
over and, grabbing the man by his arms, hauled him up onto his feet in a
less than gentle manner. The guards laughed to themselves, probably at
what the man had just said, and continued to shove the man towards the
open side exit of the store without another word to him. Beyond the
door, I saw a police car with lights flashing red and blue.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
man never resisted. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and turned
them inside out, the several boxes of lipsticks dropping out onto the
floor. </span><i><span class="c0 c3">Clack, clack, clack</span></i><span class="c0">.
I counted ten in total. The store attendants hurried over to pick them
up without giving the man a second look, looking down and avoiding his
gaze. Then the man, too, put his head down and resigned himself to the
pulling of the guards.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
was standing at the Elizabeth Arden counter near the side door. As I
watched the guards urge the man past me, the man, who had his head
drooped low, suddenly turned his head in my direction and looked up.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"I recognized your shoes," the man said, and grinned. We held each other's stares for a moment, my face expressionless.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">"Thanks for listening to me earlier," he said.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">He
then turned his head back towards the door and followed the four
security guards past the cosmetic counters, and out the side door. A
police officer from outside took a single step in the door, only to
reach for the handle and pull the door closed so I couldn’t see the man
anymore.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I
felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see a man in a light blue
vest and matching pants. Pinned onto his uniform was a badge that said
his name, and the word </span><i><span class="c0 c5">Manager</span></i><span class="c0"> boldly printed under. He smiled warmly at me.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">“I
saw how you tackled that thief!" he said enthusiastically. "I was
thoroughly impressed, and would like to express our staff's sincere
thanks for all your assistance…" He chattered on rather like a wooden
puppet for a minute longer. I could almost see the hinges at the sides
of his mouth. I continued nodding and smiling back at his profuse
compliments.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">But
truthfully, I had blanked out after hearing what the man had to say to
me before he was taken away. Now I just wanted to leave the scene as
soon as possible.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">The
manager said his final thanks and I nodded, exchanging a firm handshake
with him before heading towards the front doors myself, eager to get
out. I could already feel some of the refreshing cold air from outside
seeping through as I neared the automatic doors. I took a deep breath.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">As
I was about to take my first step out the door, I heard a woman's voice
calling from behind me, "Miss, you forgot your gift bag!"</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0"><i>Darn </i>those chocolates.</span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<span class="c0">I whirled around and stepped back into the store, striding quickly across the tiled floor with my heels going </span><i><span class="c0 c3">clack, clack, clack</span></i><span class="c0">, the tinsel still swaying and Christmas music fading back into my hearing as I am surrounded yet again with holiday cheer.</span></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c1">
<br /></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>
<div class="c2 c1">
<span class="c0"></span></div>vincihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01178055459906036386noreply@blogger.com0