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  #1 (permalink)  
Old 06-21-2008, 06:36 AM
February First

This is a story, half year over due.

Quote:
The bus passes through the busy street of Elmhurst, NY, heading itself toward the highway which eventually ends at Canal Street in lower Manhattan. It’s the beginning of February and the sun dominates the sky, casting orange light ray upon everything on sight. Even though is still chilly.

The bus is a model of Church buses which one can spot fairly easy on the streets of New York, most common used as a Church transportation, however, during the recent years many Chinese organizations have converted such vehicles into their own use due to the ever increasing price of the public transportation.

This conversion is widely accepted in the Chinese community, several organizations have taken their share of quarters in the Queens, Elmhurst, and the new Flushing area, which directly takes the people to Canal Street.

The interior of the bus quite dark, its windows are unable to provide significant lights to lighten up the whole bus, still one can get a view of the landscape while the bus are on the highway. The bus holds four rows of seats, its first row can occupy three people and the last two rows can occupy four. At the moment, the bus is on its full capacity; the driver is a Cantonese immigrant, singing along with the Cantonese radio station.
By my side was Angie, sitting at the window seat while I occupy the outer, for some reason no one ever even show signs of wanting to sit the one on my other side since this row can take one more person. Maybe mistaking us for a couple? Must be, it is close to Valentines after all.

I can’t help but to glance at Angie; her dark, long silky hair shower on her shoulder like a waterfall. Her slander feature looks tiny beside my rather massive winter coat. Just then, I felt pleasure on the side of my shoulder “Let me borrow it for a second” her voice is barely a whisper “I think I got a headache” must be all that running around. The bus have the tendency of not starting toward Canal Street unless is ninety percent full capacity, instead they would steer around the block looking for more customers and since me and Angie were the first one on the bus, we have experience quite a complex ride.

Some unknown force push me to lean my head against hers, knowing full well of her boyfriend and the girl which I have been chasing for couple of weeks, in fact, we are going to purchase my Valentines present for her at this very moment. Yet, despise all these knowledge; I’m compelled to get close to Angie. Despite the fact that I’m chasing another girl; I know full well that it is Angie that I care the most. She’s the one that I wish to spoil and cuddle. But I also know full well that she is beyond, like a moon in the sky. There is no way a mortal like me can reach her, thus I reach for the small stars beside her, and just wish to be by her side. That is my only wish.

I didn’t know if she can feel my chin above her head or not, nor I know what’s going through her mind if she does. Will she think that I’m taking advantage of her, or is her heart as confuse as me? I know her risk of going this trip with me. Her boyfriend have taken a dislike of me and I can’t blame him, she have been spending too much times with me but who can blame me when we have five classes out of eight together and I’m the only one she knows in the class? Even just few hours ago she told me that she can’t go, because her boyfriend doesn’t want her to.

Yet, she came.

Maybe what I’m doing is really taking an advantage of her. A shame. I turn my attention toward my MP3 player and gaze at the windshield in front when I feel her hand extended across my chest toward my left ear phone “I want to listen too” she said, again voice low as a whisper. This scene has occurred repeatedly with us over the past several months. Guess that might be a source of her boyfriends’ hatred. We have known each other for four years, and I have a crush on her for three years. But ever since high school she had became so popular with the guys that there’s a crowd whenever she is near, thus I realized she is not in my circle anymore and turn my targets to someplace else.

Only recently, when the Tech Draw teacher was absent and thus the whole class was sent to the second floor of the auditorium. The whole auditorium was model after Broadway Theater’s style, and the second floor is nothing but several row of chairs. I noticed that day was also near Valentines. I was sitting on the first row with my legs on the fence, my friends was chatting about sports which I have no interest in. Due to the rearing style parent used, I now show no signs of interest in most games and sports (they love the former but the latter…. Didn’t think so).

Thus, I turn my head back and saw the loads of flowers she had on her, I cracked a smile and asked “Gift or you brought it yourself?” she frowned and replied “Gift ofcourse” I then inquired “You like the smell of roses?” she frowned again and replied “no” I can’t helped but to bring out my “I Hate The Smell Of Roses” theory, it is hard for people to agree on me with that. And since that day, we couldn’t have been closer. The Tech Draw teacher was absent a lot and we all are a familiar sight on the balcony on the fifth period. She sat next to me; or rather I sat next to her since I move my seat to the back row. And together; we talked all sort of things, and she always extended her hand across my chest to get my left earphone. And I’ll help her put it on since the one I have is quite hard to put on (at least for her).

Such moves must have reached the ears of her boyfriend because he appeared in the balcony several times afterwards. And when that time comes, I would take my hint and stay near my friends and she with him.

The continually intimate relationship with her caused many rumors among our friends and classmates. We are viewed, publically, as a couple seeing that we’re always together class to class, period to period. There’s nothing we can do about it, I denied to several times when people question about us, but in the end I just let them say whatever they wish. That may cause more rumors, is it because my subconscious wishes the rumor to arise, and wishes that we be seen as a couple? I’ll never know.

The bus move on slowly, we talk little, there doesn’t seem to be any need of it nor can I find anything to talk about with her head on my shoulder. Only sparkle of music in both of our ears.

Another place, another time, I recall an early morning, while I was waiting for the doors of the school to be open, she arrived early to school (rarely happens), rushed toward me and like always, reach for my earphone. There we stood together under the slender tree that is nothing but skins and bones comparing to the other ones around the block. Again, an unknown force pushed me. My pinky reaches for hers, when in contacted my ring finger joins in and then my middle finger and suddenly I awaken, like a cold water pour over my head, I asked myself “What am I doing?” and move my hand in a rather comical way to hide my embarrassment.

The bus finally comes to a stop and we both got off. For the next hour we were looking for presents and avoid a familiar friend, for a second I have the feeling of we are having an affair. Afterwards, she needs to shop for groceries a minute; literarily a minute. I have shopped with my parents for years and never have I saw anyone bought less than twenty dollars of groceries (my house is usually over fifty). The ride home is quite pleasant, though I wish she would place her head on my shoulder again.

I went home and while on the subway I bring out the pink box with contain the rings for a moment. The images of Angie and the girl I wishes to give the ring to seems to conflict.

I went home and realized that when you tell the girl you chasing about some other girl, she’ll be pissed. Even though you wishes to be as frank as you can about your feeling toward the other girl, she will be pissed.

[End]

p.s The end is kind of a rush but I can't be blamed cause I just started this old thing half hour ago

p.p.s: This is a true story and as true story goes... is pretty suck.


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  #2 (permalink)  
Old 06-22-2008, 08:03 PM
Quote:
Originally Posted by John View Post
p.s The end is kind of a rush but I can't be blamed cause I just started this old thing half hour ago

p.p.s: This is a true story and as true story goes... is pretty suck.
As far as the story goes, it's well-written and very stylish. To say "I like" to the writing style would be something of an understatement. Writing style aside, though, and you've got a handful or so of problems.
  • Fleeting as a Dream: The whole style exudes dream to me, throw-away scene description, the subtle explanation, the passing between past and present. The rest of the world fades to fuzzy while we ride along with MC and Angie. The problem with this though is it doesn't stick. I re-read this earlier this morning because my reading last night floated away while I slept. Not a bad thing, per se, it's just so passing that I felt robbed of something when I thought to reflect on it and got nothing.
  • Drop Anchor: Do it. I don't feel at all tethered to anything during this piece. It's past, then present, explanation, past, present, past, present... If you'd ask me to do a timeline of what happened, I'd ask you if I could re-read it. It's so back and forth I found myself going back one or twice to re-root the timeframe.
  • Random Jolt: Occasionally, you found a phrasing or word choice that really just didn't fit very cleanly, ended up rocking the whole story and ejecting me from my reading mode. Enough times for me to make note of it. To prevent these, read them aloud as you proof them. If the phrasing doesn't sound easy, or you stumble with your words while you read it, then you'd likely find a better replacement for what you have.
Aside from the airy feel to it, it was pretty standard. But yeah, anchor us in, and smooth out the ride, and post more, darnit. We need more writers around here.

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  #3 (permalink)  
Old 06-23-2008, 04:15 AM
Ah, I hate English grammars. I agree, reading this would be like a waste of time because there is clearly nothing to gain from it. Is just a piece of memory.

I personally like the past, present, thing when I reading Stephen King or James Patterson.

And yes, we do need more writers.


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  #4 (permalink)  
Old 06-23-2008, 04:26 AM
Quote:
Originally Posted by John View Post
Ah, I hate English grammars. I agree, reading this would be like a waste of time because there is clearly nothing to gain from it. Is just a piece of memory.

I personally like the past, present, thing when I reading Stephen King or James Patterson.

And yes, we do need more writers.
I think you misunderstand me. It's not that I gain nothing, quite the contrary, the best fiction leaves others' memories swimming in my mind.

What I mean is I don't retain it as well as I feel I should. Because the writing is so distance, so airy. I like it, I just can't hold on to it.

That's what I meant.

Also,
Quote:
what can I said, you should run for GM
With this crowd, there's no way I'd make it. People don't really like me here. They think I'm mean.

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