#FictionFriday

#FictionFriday: Grace Spins the Globe

A/N: I wanted to write a story about some of the places I’ve visited over the course of my 30 years on earth, but I was worried it’s going to come off as obnoxious or bragging. So, I chose to write a story about the place where I was born and raised, Jakarta. You might tell from the story how I have missed this city so much, picturing it in a light that I’m sure had I wrote this story back home, I would not have seen Jakarta the way I see it now.

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#FictionFriday: Children of the sun and chickens

A/N: This story is mostly inspired by my love of fried chickens. I have yet to be bored by constantly eating fried chickens. And yet, not a huge fan of sunbathing, or being under the sun in general, but after one in a half year of missing out on proper sweat, maybe I kinda miss it?

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#FictionFriday: The Black Bra

A/N: Honest to God, I do not know what this mess of a story is about. But, one day at work after me and my mates came back from lunch, we were walking past this old decrepit house. That house is vile, you know? We’ve seen actual feces, human feces not animal feces, left on the side of the house. We even saw an actual live human being taking a shit next to the house on broad breaking daylight like it’s nobody’s business. I kid you not. Anyway, on that day we were all joking about what possible disgusting thing we would find next to the house, lo and behold, an actual black lace bra! Yep, someone thought that maybe their bra is not good enough that they’re just going to throw it out on the street? So, that is the inspiration behind the story and I wished I had written it better but I’m a firm believer that whatever I wrote, and however shitty that was, I’ll stick by it. Here goes. That being said, I am sorry for this mess of a story.

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The Brightest Star

People think that sitting on a grass on a summer night whilst stargazing is romantic, if not a beautiful experience. Truth be told, it’s nothing close to beautiful when you’re busy swatting the many bugs swarming over your naked arms and legs.

And yet, I’m still here anyway, swatting bugs and mosquitoes over my naked arms and legs. I would have worn a jacket but it’s summer and I’m already sweating from the heat. I could have worn longer pants, but even with shorts, my thighs are already sticking together like caramel from the sweat pooling up. I would rather be home but I don’t know how to say no when all my friends said that stargazing is the ultimate summer activity. Yeah, I don’t buy that. What part of getting swarmed by mosquitoes and bugs in a remote place screams the ‘ultimate summer activity’?

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The Unjust towards the Just.

This morning Nima woke with a heavy heart. He felt angry at things he could not put into words; it was just a strong surge of anger flowing through his veins. He sighed as he looked up at his bedroom ceiling and noticed the faint glow in the dark stickers that he put up just a year ago. Why did he think it was a good idea?

He sat on his bed, thinking of how life has been like for him the past year; how it was full of ups and downs, but mostly downs and yet he is still here. His friends said it was a testament to how strong he has been, but Nima thinks that it’s just a load of crap. He won’t say it out loud though, Nima has always been favouring stability and peace over any types of conflict; if agreeing to all the things that he finds repulsive will keep people around him happy, then Nima would be more than happy to do so.

Amidst his daydreaming, if it can be called daydreaming at 6.30 AM, his phone rang. It was one of his colleagues. Nima just stared at the phone, debating if he really should take the call, after all they were going to meet at work, so why should he called Nima so early?

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#FictionFriday: The Moonlit Beach.

The beach at night is scary. The beach in the morning is also scary. Beaches in general are scary, and yet tonight felt different. The moonlit beach is relatively calm compared to last night when the hotel was throwing out some kind of bonfire party. I can hear the laughter and the cries of happiness from my room’s balcony, even with the doors closed. Tonight I stood on my balcony and was watching the waves crash against the beach when I saw a woman walking along the beach, holding her slippers in her left hand whilst her right held her dress aloft so as not to get wet. The moonlit beach illuminates her face, giving her a glow as if from inside of her as opposed from the moon itself. I wouldn’t consider herself a beauty, but moonlight almost always give you the notion that something is more beautiful than it should be.

She looks to be in her twenties and I almost on my way inside my room to grab the room key and went on my way to chat her up when I saw that she ran into the arms of a much older gentleman. Okay, maybe not that old, the man looks to be my age and I’m only 33. They were kissing and the man cups her face, staring at her face lovingly. I can almost felt the overflowing love he has for the woman. Almost like the face that my Dad makes in all of my parent’s wedding pictures, like he can’t believe that he is married to my Mum. Ah, that explains it, they must be on their honeymoon. I’m glad that I notice it before I’m down there on the beach and had made a fool of myself. Well, best I go to sleep now, for there is no love available for me for the night.

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