Writer's Blog

Limbo

2007-05-21T20:34:00.000+08:00

Him and her.
They were as they have always been... Or not. Something was a bit different, but neither wish to acknowledge it.
We are friends. So they said, but in their hearts, they have crossed the borders of friendship. Families have wrecked hell when they found out him and her, together. They were unapproved. Therefore, they give up. We will be just friends.
How? When deep inside, you long to see each other so much that it hurts. How? When just being with you makes the world brighter.
We are just the bestest of best friends. She smiled and looked at him. He did the same. In sync.
She told me quietly, I have never regretted, however short those days were. Because we have truely loved then.
They were probably buying time. Able to spend even a minute more by your side, able to breath in your smile for one more hour, able to drink in your voice for one more day. Until the day they graduate, until the day they part ways. Until the day when a choice had to be made.
I met them one day. Two people walking side by side, a tall dark figure contrasted by a small fair one. They were going off to study together, walking slightly apart, each hugging their own textbooks. The light threw their shadows on the ground, hand in hand, close to each other.

Birthday in Putrajaya

2007-05-13T14:36:00.000+08:00

This one looks so philosophical. Feels like the person is pondering over something.

I like this one the best.

???

2007-05-01T21:43:00.001+08:00

This is life.

I looked at myself and wonder who I am.

I always tell people what I feel about my time. When I was in high school, I used to fall asleep in class (as usual), and I would dream about having next week's class. But when I woke up, I'm still in this week's class. In my dreams, we are already at the 8th chapter, but when I woke up, the teacher is still lecturing at the 7th chapter. Strange enough, when we are having the 8th lecture, the contents do appear very familiar...

I've left high school for a year, but it seems like 5 or 6 years now. I keep going back, expecting everyone I know has graduated, but returned to find some familiar faces still. I always feel very confused about time.

Don't feel like my age at all. But then that kind of things varied a lot between individuals... Some people are very mature at a very young age due to life experiences and education, while some are just plain kids for their age. Not sure what I am... What's my age again?

Maybe I should be a boy instead of a girl? Maybe I should be that instead of this. No way of finding out which way is the best, as there's no turning back...

The one in the mirror smiles at my shocked face. This is really a bit too weird...

The First Time I Met Him

2007-01-05T23:03:00.000+08:00

The first time I saw him, a tall dark figure with a cold but strikingly handsome face. My 9-year-old heart was drawn to him immediately. I asked him then, if I could go with him. His lips curled slightly as he whispered, “No, my dear. For you are far too young.” Then, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

9 years later, I have grown into a young lady. I met him again, on the street among the thousands of passers-by. He still looked as he was 9 years ago. I wonder how many hearts fell for that face of his. He saw me and gave me a thin smile as recognition. At that moment, I felt burdened with life. The sight of him relieved me. I tried to grab his arm, to ask him the same question. But he shook his head before I had even opened my mouth.

“No, my dear. For you still have much to do here.” Once again he disappeared beneath the waves of people.

But please! I really want to go with you! Why don’t you let me come? I’m sick and tired of this place! I’m sick and tired of everything here! There’s nothing I want, nothing I seek here. Why don’t you just let me come?

He appeared again. For the first time, a sad expression replaced his usual cold mask. “It is not your time yet. The solace that you seek is not in me. Going away with me will not solve all your problems. I have seen too many regretting their rash choice of going with me, I don’t want you to follow their foot steps.”

“Even when nobody listens to you, you will listen to yourself. Even when nobody supports you, you’ll always pull yourself through. You already have a best friend, and that is you. That’s why you cannot give up on yourself.”

But this is way too sad! With no one else in the world to care for me except myself? What kind of life do you call that?

“This is reality. This is life. If there are others in this world who can live by this rule, why can’t you?”

Because I envy those who have friends who would readily lend them a shoulder to lean on. I envy those who always have ears that listen no matter what. I have to bear my burden on my own, but I keep seeing others who have friends to share their burden. I have many acquaintances, but true friends…

Even when coming 'home' becomes a torture. Do they really want me here? Nobody said 'welcome home', just started scolding 'why are you making a mess! Why are you not washing your clothes!'

I’m tired! Really tired! I have to do everything straight! I have to be a good leader, when I’m not. I have to be paying back my debts when I have no income at all. Everybody thinks I have a happy life. Everybody thinks I’m supposed to be always cheerful and not have any problems?

“All the troubles I have, I’ve kept to myself. I wouldn’t even dare to tell my mom that there were many times I just want to die since I was 9. I tried telling her once, and she just said ‘Silly child, you don’t know how to appreciate how lucky you are.’”

He just stood there, listening to all my troubles. “But still you have to live on. If you die, your parents will be heart-broken. It would break them to lose their only child. Believe it or not, there are friends who really cherished your existence, how you are always there to help them. You might not see it, but there are indeed people who cared for you even if they didn’t express it. You really mustn’t give up on yourself just like that.”

“Why do you think I have kept alive for so long? But I have really stretched on for so long. I don’t know how long I can hold on anymore…”

“When the time comes when you really can’t take it anymore, I promise you, then and only then I will come and take you away. For now, please hold on a little longer, even if only just for the time being. I am Death, but it still breaks my heart to see people die.”

I nodded, my vision blurring behind the curtain of tears. When I looked again, he was gone. Well, I have Death’s promise to be my refuge only at the worst times. For now, I will continue to fend for myself until unknown future.

LoSt

2006-06-30T11:39:00.000+08:00

In the midst of murky blue, with no landmark to spot...
In the midst of wilderness, with nothing familiar I know...

I'm lost,
with crowds sweeping pass me,
people pulling at me,
people giving me directions,
but I still end up here.

I'm lost,
bought maps,
asked around,
attempted every road and back,
but still I ended up here.

I'm lost.
Only God knows the way.

Suicide

2006-04-14T01:12:00.000+08:00

This is a story my friend wrote. About a person who committed suicide and he has to carry his own body and haunt the site until judgement day. Moral of the story, it's not fun to kill yourself really. You think everything's solved when you die? It only makes matters worse. Think twice before you do...

Gift

2005-12-28T22:52:00.000+08:00

I was very curious about a boy in class once. He would always perched on the far end corner of the classroom, alone, always away from everybody else. He would stay there, even when lecturers request him to move to more populated areas. He would always walk briskly with his head down.

I don't remember how I approached him, but I talked to him one day. I was very late to class, and I sneaked into the lecture room and sat right next to him in the far end corner of the class. I was wondering how to start talking to him, when he spoke.

"You know, everybody in this class, not everyone concentrates on the lesson. Some girl over there is thinking about her boy friend, somebody over there wants to go shopping. Imagine all 200 students in this class are talking out loud, wouldn't it be a din?" I blinked at him, trying to grasp his words.

"Sitting far from everyone else, the reception is less powerful. It is something like a radio, the waves don't reach that far. Besides, when you can see into their hearts, it is horrifying how much darkness you can find within."

It suddenly dawned on me. "So, does it mean...?"
He nodded slowly, "That is why I choose to stay away from everybody else. To protect myself from all those lies and deceptions. People, they seldom think good."

"But you can't just judge by that. You can tell when a person is telling a truth, you can tell who is really pure of heart. Nobody is perfect, even you yourself is not 100 percent pure of heart. We all have darkness, but maybe not that much. Maybe I don't understand how you feel, but I know how humans can be quite bad. Still, I choose to believe that the probability of people being good is higher than when they are not so good."

He kept silent. At that point the class ended, I left him where he was still lost in his thoughts. I remembered the times when I was betrayed by my best friend, how I was deceived by someone else I trusted. Still I believe that people are born to be good, we just have to be careful ourselves and judge the circumstances. If we trust no one, life could become rather sad and lonely.

I haven't seen him for a long time since. I have always wanted the ability to read minds, but would I end up like him? To have something, we have to lost something as well. Am I ready to bear the consequences? I sincerely hope that he is able to make friends and become happier.

Faded Friendships

2005-12-27T02:58:00.001+08:00

It is strange how people can change so fast. She still remember when they were still friends. Good friends, or so she thought. She still smiles at the things that they did together, and all the memories they created together.

All of a sudden, he just didn't seem to care for her anymore. It's like 100 celcius dropping abruptly to the freezing point. She felt that she had lost a friend, in some way that she didn't know. She didn't even see it coming.

Then she found out why. She knew the girl, always thought the both of them were made for each other. In fact, she is happy that he finally found someone that suits him. Good luck to them and may they be happy for as long as they can. It's just that she felt a little at lost.

It was like when she had a very good friend in Form 1. Then he transfered to another school. To her every friend is like a treasure to be kept. They kept contact with one another for the next five years, but he had his own life in another place, and gradually they just lost contact. She wondered, how they just started talking to each other like they knew each other for years when they first met, and now they hardly know of each others' existence. He is somewhere out there, in this same little piece of land, but they never contacted each other anymore. The friendship that had grown so strongly crumbled like dust.

Another friend of hers knew her since primary school. She has no idea why that friend admires her so much. She still remembers when how her friend would tell her friend's mother excitedly what a good friend she was. Now, she has no idea where that other girl was, probably more successful than she is now. Maybe it is best not to see her again, so that she would be remembered as a successful person. Another of her friend who dropped out of her life although there was a time when they did everything together.

And now, it is the same with him. Ever since he got a girlfriend, he hardly talks to her anymore. Well, he has got new priorities now, what would he care about a friend who has nothing to do with him? And he will be like her friends before him, slowly fading away from her life. For she will meet new friends again, and so would he.

Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, she would spread out the memories of long ago. Memories, all that was left of those withered friendships. She has no idea why she still clings to these faded old memories, maybe they reminded her of those happy times. Sometimes it hurts to feel that she has lost those friends, that they couldn't go on being good friends forever. Maybe someday she will meet them again and she would thank them for those happy memories. For these memories are the the best gifts that one could ever have, although the friends are no longer here.

现实

2005-12-21T00:55:00.000+08:00

是夜。她带着疲惫的身躯坐在梳妆台前，缓缓地卸下那厚厚粉底的脸皮。她厌恶地看着手中那带着殷勤笑容的脸皮，感觉很虚伪。镜中映着她原本清秀的面容，自然而不做作。不知道是哪位前辈曾经对她说过，真诚的心只有在自己独处时才可以拿出来欣赏。在别人面前露出真诚只不过是将自己的弱点暴露，让小人有机可乘。

多悲哀啊！她本来不相信，但是事到如今，她也不知何时为自己戴上了保护色。成长本来就苦涩，她也从来不曾祈求成长早日到来。但人总要长大，也只有认了。只有夜深人静时，独自一人回味着当年的真心。

Loop

2005-10-31T00:25:00.000+08:00

Sometimes you just sit in your room and you have no idea where you were heading. It's some sort of irony that gets you hooked into a logic loop.

You were hoping to do a business because you wanted to make money. You didn't have a lot of money with you, that is the reason you wanted to make money. But you need money to do a business. Ok, you want to do a business to make money but you don't have the money to do the business. To do business so that you can get money. But you need money to do the business. You don't have money, therefore you are going no where because you are caught up in the loop.

Unless you know how to break the loop, or you'll just stay stuck.

Same goes with the writer. I want to write so that people knows about me. But the publishers won't publish unless I am famous. I can't be famous if I don't get published, I won't be famous. If I'm not famous I won't get published. Whatever, I'll just start with taking a small step out. Try mailing the works, who cares about getting published yet.

So the loop cracked.

Counting Down...

2005-09-26T23:45:00.000+08:00

Two more weeks until the actual flight... The wind has not started blowing yet...

I flapped my wings and ruffled the feathers on my back. My heart is restless, waiting impatiently for the time to come.

I want to fly, I want to fly! To feel the air in my face, the wind beneath my wings. The thrill joy of being one step closer to the sky!

Just two more weeks...

Prologue

2005-09-05T16:08:00.000+08:00

Something good is going to happen. I can feel it. Everybody looks so happy that I couldn't help smiling myself. Somebody dear is coming back for dinner. Somebody I missed a lot.

The door opened, and a tall handsome figure walked in. I sqealed in delight and ran into his arms. My eldest brother has been away for a long time, and now he is back. Finally. Matt is everybody's favourite. He is cool, caring and thoughtful. Nothing is the same without him around, it's so great to have him back. Mom cried tears of joy while she hugged him. Dad clapped him on the back. Another brother of mine, Aaron just grinned at him, but you can see that he is happy, very happy.

Aaron is 3 years younger than Matt, and they have been very good friends ever since. After all, they have been through a lot before I was born. Although I know they loved me and looked after me well, but I still envy the way they share something common. The two boys would compare their projects and discoveries. Sometimes I feel a bit left out. Maybe it is because I am a girl. Or maybe they have already formed a bond in the 6 years they shared without me.

During dinner, we all talked a lot. Even Dad joked and laughed while dinner lasted despite what he taught us about not talking with our mouths full.

"Is there something on my face?" Matt tapped me lightly on the head when he caught me staring at him. I just grinned. He left when I was still very young. I haven't seen him for such a long time that I feel like just looking at him and imprint his image into my memory again. I think I seem to have forgotten what he looked like. To me, he is a brother that I hardly knew, because we hardly spent time together. But we loved each other a lot. I wish he is back for good now, so that I could get to know him better.

After dinner, Matt said that he was going out to meet his friends. I didn't know what came over me, but I began to cry. I suddenly have this feeling that if he leaves now, I will never see him again. Everybody was telling me that he will come back but I know that I will never see him again. Matt patted me on the head and smiled, "I promise I'll be back, ok?" Then he walked out of the door.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting up in my bed with tears streaming down my cheeks. I cried even harder, because I really won't see Matt again. He passed away when I was very young. The brother I hardly knew, but whom I missed so much. In the dream, everything happened so naturally, that I could really believe that it was true. But a dream was just a dream.

I washed away the tears and looked at myself in the mirror. Dad sometimes say I looked like Matt. Really? I didn't know. I didn't remember what he looked like, just scenes of the little time we had together. Things that still touches me when I think of it. I wish... I had more time to know my brother more. No matter where or what he is now, I hope he is happy.

Writing...

2005-08-22T14:30:00.000+08:00

Writing is not just about fiction and stories, there are a lot of other different genres that I don't know how to call them in English. If you ask me in Chinese, I could give you a list of it.

I still remember in high school, we have to write all these essays. We have one call "shu qing wen", meaning an essay to convey your feelings to a certain person or object. That's what poets of the old days often do. And there's one I especially love to write (besides fiction), because it's free and casual, you can write anything you like. It's call "san wen". If you translate it literally, it means fragmented or scattered essay, meaning that it doesn't have to have a specific topic like argumentative essays, nor a climax like fictions. Just anything you feel like. No formats. No nothing. Just the true feelings of the writer and the message he wants to convey.

I can't seem to find English writers specialised in these "free essays". But you can find a lot of Chinese writers publishing these. Some of the famous ones are Zhu Zi Qing, Bing Xin and Ba Jin. They are very beautifully written, and always have a deep meaning in it despite the casualness. Contemporary ones will be Liu Yong, Zhang Man Juan and some others, just ask anybody who loves Chinese books.

Privilege of knowing one more language, you can enjoy literature from other cultures in their truest form. Although many languages have a lot in common, but there are also a lot of words born from the unique culture of each language that cannot be translated. Like "gambate" in Japanese... I never know how to explain it in English.

If I limit this blog to only fiction and stories. Maybe updates will be scarce. But if you ask me for other genres, maybe... maybe I can update a lot lot more. I wish to update my works in Chinese too, but the contraint is I can't type Chinese... and the audience will definitely be restricted.

Thank you for your support. The writer will continue to squeeze her brain juices. If you feel that there's anything I need to improve on, just go ahead and shoot. It's what I need to perform better. If you think some parts are good, give me a little applause too (You guys have been good on this one :D).

Till next entry,
Living My Dreams
(because I found good friends like you!)

Life

2005-08-16T07:44:00.000+08:00

A guy suddenly found himself at the Pearly Gates of Heaven.

"But I'm not dead!" He protested, when St Peter comes to take his name. "I was still sleeping on my bed, and the next second I'm here!"

"Ok, show me evidence that you have lived."

The man looked back at his 30 years of life, he studied during his school years, and worked after he graduated. He found himself a wife later and got some kids.

"Tell me, what is the colour of the flowers in your garden?" St Peter smiled at him.
"Or the last time you had fun."
"How about the last time you dreamed?"
"Or the last time you had a dream."

The man kept quiet. He remembered his teen years, when he and his friends dreamt about travelling the whole world, but only one of them actually did that years later and they thought he was crazy. He had always been busy doing what the society wanted him to do, what he "needed" to do, that he had never done what he himself wanted.

St Peter smiled again and continued, "There are many in this world who lived until the age of 70, but in actual fact they 'died" when they were 20 or 30. While there are many whose bodies haved perished but they live on forever."

With that St Peter and the Pearly Gates disappeared. The man sat upright in his bed, sweating freely. He woke up his wife and told the surprised woman, "Hey, let's have a vacation in Bermuda."

Haze

2005-08-10T15:41:00.001+08:00

So this is how fog looks like, except for the smoky smell of burnt wood. One would have thought that he is in Genting Highlands if it isn't for the intolerable heat. Everywhere is filled with foul air. People choked and cursed at the haze that has been filling their lungs. There is no where to escape to, no where to run away from the haze. A few people fainted, whether by the heat or air poisoning. Eventually people begin to wear masks to prevent the poisoned air from entering their lungs. Suddenly the place looks like a futuristic space film. Now Cyberjaya is truly "cyber".

Somewhere in a village, a child is playing in front of his house. In the backyard, a bonfire is burning a heap of fallen leaves. The mother has closed the back door and windows to keep the smoke from going into the house. There on the step of the back door, a model of Cyberjaya sat there, fully enveloped in the bonfire smoke.

The Bizzare Week

2005-08-05T06:55:00.000+08:00

"Steven, you got your ear pierced! You know that don't look decent, don't you? Listen here..." There go my parents. Again and again. Man, I am already eighteen years old and they are still treating me like a baby. Always poking their nose in whatever I do, always bossing me around. Geez, couldn't they just give me a break?

That day, I dragged myself home, battered and disappointed. Our soccer team lost the match. Just when we thought we had trained enough, and our opponent was a lousy team that has never won in 5 years. How much worse can it be?

I had hardly put my foot through the door when I was welcomed by the usual, "Dear me, Steven! You look like you had a mud bath! Don't you..." That was everything blew up in my head. I yelled at them and ran outdoors, with the courtesy to slam the door right in their faces.

Walking aimlessly on the streets, I actually felt a bit triumph to free myself from those nagging pair. But something was wrong. Deep down inside, I was not exactly proud of myself. A tiny voice kept tugging at the corner of my conscience, "How could you, Steven? You know they meant it for your own good. It shows how concern they are for you..." I began to feel sorry. Maybe I should go back and apologize to them. They are my parents after all.

I started home, pacing my steps absent-mindedly. Not looking where I was going, I bumped into an old lady and sent what she was carrying flying. I apologized quickly and stooped down to help her pick up her belongings. The old lady strongly reminds me of a witch, with her crooked face, large hooked nose and tousled white hair stretching in all directions. Wrinkles zigzagged all over her face. Her eyes searched me in the most unnerving way, as though she can see through me. I squirmed uneasily under her gaze as I picked up her things. I quickly returned them to her and continued on wait way home.

"Wait a moment, young lad. Come here, let old Granny give you something to thank you," The old lady called after me while rummaging in her bag. She pulled out a cap that looks strangely new among her other properties and handed it to me. Before she turn and left, I felt her gaze boring into me for a split second. I just tipped the cap on my head without giving it much thought and went home.

The TV was chattering loudly in the living room, the usual family routine after dinner. Wait... After dinner? What? For the first time in my memory, my parents did not wait for me to dine together. I must have really upset them this time. Maybe this was not a good time to apologize yet. I tiptoed to the kitchen and searched the dining table for food. Now this is even more ridiculous! How ever mad they were, it is unreasonable that they didn't even leave food for me! I really screwed up big time.

I walked up to my parents and did my best to look really sorry. I hung my head and apologized. Then I waited. 10 seconds passed by in uneasy silence except for the TV set. I apologized again, louder this time, but my parents just turned a deaf ear. I even walked in front of the TV set, definitely blocking their view, and apologized again. To my utmost bewilderment, my parents acted as though they did not see me. Okay. I have been really bad this time, I will wait for them to cool down a bit. I crept quietly into my room and made up my mind to apologize again the other day.

In the morning, I woke up with the sun shining brightly in my eyes. I sat upright immediately and grabbed my clock ticking serenely beside the bed. Oh my god, I'm late for school! My parents used to wake me up to go to school. I quickly pulled on my school uniform and raced down to the kitchen, just to find nothing on the dining table where my breakfast used to be. Oh well, I don't have much time to eat breakfast anyway.

My parents continued to ignore me for the rest of the day. They didn't talk to me. They didn't prepare my meals. They acted as if I did not exist in the house at all. I felt scared and guilty, knowing that it was all my fault to upset my parents for so long while hoping in my heart that this would end soon.

The next morning, I woke up to find the previous day repeating itself. My parents still refused to acknowledge my existence in the house. This actually went on for the rest of the week. I began to feel hurt and neglected. Whatever I did, I don't deserve this. Suddenly I missed their nagging. And all this while, I never really appreciated my parents. I retreated to my bedroom and buried myself in the sheets, wetting my pillow with silent tears before I lost my consciousness.

I woke up early and went to the kitchen to search for food. The terrible week has trained me to become independent. To my surprise, the long lost breakfast was there on the table. Dad was reading the morning's newspaper when he looked up to greet me in his usual cheerful tone, "Hey, you are up early today!"

I swore I could have cried in relief at that moment. I blinked away the warm stinging sensation at my eyes. Finally, my parents noticed me! Breakfast proceeded with the long lost warmth and cheerfulness. How I missed it all! Only now do I realize that my parents have been so good to me. Fighting back tears, I hung my head while Mom cleared away the dishes.

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry."

"What for?" Dad raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper the other day... I'm glad that you finally forgiven me..."

"But we were never really mad at you, just worried that you just disappeared for a whole week. Well, a big boy like you can take care of yourself, so we just waited for you to come home when you have cooled down..."

"Wait... You mean, you did not see me in the house for the whole week?" I asked, bewildered. I know I have been staying in this house for the week.

"Yeah, we thought you went off to stay at your friend's place after throwing such a tantrum."

So, I had been invisible for the whole week? How could this happen? Suddenly I remembered the old lady and the cap she gave me. I burst into my room and ransacked my room for the cap, but I never did find it.

Sacrifice

2005-08-03T02:53:00.000+08:00

She struggled frantically as he approached slowly, a silver blade in his hand. His eyes gleamed with triumph, knowing his victim would never be able to escape him, especially not at this moment. She continued to struggle with increasing ferocity, but all in vain. His lips curled as he held her head in position. The blade rose and fell, resulting with a sickening thud as the metal cut through her neck.

However, it did not just end here. He continued to work at her still corpse. Blood spilled over his front while he hacked at her remains. All the while, the triumphant smile on his lips. When he had finished cutting her into small proportions of similiar size, he went to check on the pot now boiling with curry. "Hmm... Fresh chicken meat and curry, all I need for a good family dinner!"

Childhood Companion

2005-07-29T00:36:00.000+08:00

After 10 years, he finally came back to where he spent his childhood years. The same old coconut trees lined the road; the same old wooden houses, but cars now decorated them.

The old tree, still stood strong and firm. He sunk comfortably under the shade. This was his favorite spot, where he spend all his memorable days here. Days when he read here, played here, picnicked here...

A small round face with bright alert eyes popped into his memory. He was 10 years old then, playing by himself under this tree when another boy came along. He had never seen this boy before, with the kind of clean looks indicating that he probably doesn't play outdoor much. But he had a mischievous and determined look on his face, daring anybody to look down on him. Somehow he felt irritated by the new boy watching him play.

"Hey, you over there! Wanna go catch some fish?" The next thing, they were splashing in the river nearby. The other kid was a city boy who came to stay with his grandparents for his two-month holidays. Somehow, he never quite remember his name.

Deep down, he was happy to have a companion. In his village, the other kids were either too old or too young, or they were all girls playing dolls. That was why he always spend his time alone under the tree. The new boy made his life more colorful. Finally, he could race someone to the river, tear down the fields, chase the chicken. They did everything boys do together, they tried to beat each other in something some way. He still remember the time when the new kid came to his house for lunch. They began wolfing down the food, trying to see who can finish the most food in the shortest time.

He had always expected city kids to be slow in sports and less adventurous, but this kid caught up real fast. Sometimes, he felt so humiliated to be beaten by a city boy, but he couldn't help respecting him as well. Most city kids he had seen are often too nerdy or too feeble, but this one really got the stuff in him.

The fun days are often far too short. Two months passed by just like that. Just that day, the city boy tried to bid him farewell, but he sulked in his room. Half of him wanted to see city boy off, the other half of him was angry and reluctant to accept that his only companion is leaving him for good. When he finally raced down the road to see city boy for the one last time, all he got was the scattering dust that stung his eyes.

City boy never came back again. Every time when he was reading under the old tree, he looked up expecting to find the roundish face staring intently at him. But each time he was disappointed. Years passed by, even he had grown up and moved away. There was no way the city boy could ever find him again...

Sensing movement nearby, he opened his eyes. Right in front of his face, a roundish face stared at him. He leaped, startled. The owner of the face laughed, long hair tumbled down either sides of her face, a familiar mischief played on her face.

Much has changed, but the round face and alert eyes remained. He wouldn't have recognized her if it wasn't for that laugh. He could have had a heart attack on the spot. No, this couldn't be... This shouldn't be...

City "boy" turned out to be a girl. Her grandparents were the conservative type. It seems that her father had walked out of the house when his parents did not approve of his love. They lost contact with each other until that year when the dying grandfather pledged to see his only grandchild. However, being the conservative man as he was, he was hoping to see a grandson but she was the only child. So they disguised her into a boy to console his dying soul.

Luckily, she had never always been brought up like an ordinary girl. Her parents always wanted her to participated in different activities, shaping into her some tomboyishness and adventurous spirit.

Although "he" was in fact a girl, from the look she gave him, he knew that his childhood companion has always been there.

"So, gamed for a race to the river?" It was as though many, many years ago when two kids chased each other to the riverbank...