Arthur

Arthur stood there, his eyes scanning the depths of the dark forest that surrounds him, his hand holding on to his long sword, at ready. It was a duel of some sort, most definitely, but what he wasn't counting on was the general enveloping darkness that the forest provided.

``Too quiet,'' he thought to himself as he tried to figure out where his adversary might be. ``This is just too quiet -- there is no forest that is this quiet. Not by a far degree. Something is amiss.''

Arthur gribbed the hilt of his weapon and took a tentative step forward. Almost immediately, he could feel the rush of wind blowing towards him. Reacting instinctively, Arthur slashed upwards with his long sword as quickly as he could.

A shriek echoed through the forest. When his senses came back, Arthur could see no evidence of what he might have just sliced at -- there was just nothing visible, except for some dark liquid at the edge of his blade.

``Come out you fool! I know you're hurt and you're somewhere! I can sense you!''

The dark forest kept its silence. Arthur took another step forward. Nothing. He took another. At this point, his long sword started to glow in an uncanny yellow light. Only at one other time did it happen, and during that time, it was said that massive destruction had occurred all throughout Kindarvin.

Arthur heard of the legends, and suddenly he understood everything. That was no ordinary long sword he was wielding, in spite of what he was told by the blacksmith. It was the Sword of the Ancients, a legendary weapon that was said to possess the ability to cut through dimensional creatures. It was supposedly forged at a time where strange visages ebbed and flowed and could never be truly killed, till this sword came about. Once there were many, but as the millenia passed, only a scant few were left.

The yellow glow was stronger. Arthur, like all others who have heard the stories, knew that a dimensional creature was near. It was no longer a normal duel between him and another swordsman -- it was the battle of light and darkness.

With great trepidation, Arthur held his sword loosely in his hands, as he took small steps forwards. Without warning, a sudden swoop came towards him from the left side of his rear. Arthur spun around as quickly as he could and slashed the general direction with his sword.

A hideous cry of pure pain echoed throughout the forest as a burst of yellow light temporarily blinded Arthur. When his vision finally cleared, he saw that he had levelled a good amount of the forest around him, and that sunlight was shining on him from above.

Was it victory? He could not tell.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 09-Jun-2012 09:47:20)

Betrayer

``But it is not as though I loved him... you know full well that it is you I love, Tom!'' Sally said in a pleading voice.

``That is not the point!'' Tom replied, trying his best to control his anger. ``You slept with him, for crying out loud! What man would allow himself to be cuckolded like this? Am I an unsatisfying lover? Do I not fulfill your fantasies? Do I not give to your pandering?''

``Tom,'' Sally said, her eyes slowly tearing up. ``Tom, dear, I love you for all your attention and care. And yes, you do satisfy me. You do role-play the way I want. But sometimes, all I need is just a hard fucking without all that softness and concern---''

`` `Just a hard fucking'?'' Tom interjected, his voice raised in pure rage. `` `Just a hard fucking'? For crissakes, you could have told me! Why must you turn to some other... man for that? Am I not your damn husband? What are you trying to imply, that I'm not man enough to give my wife `just a hard fucking' when she wants it? What kind of sick twisted logic is that?''

``Tom...''

``Don't interrupt me! Woman... you have tried my patience. I know for sure that this is not the first time you have slept with him.''

``Tom! How... how did you know?'' Sally said, her voice turning quiet, her eyes large with fear and realisation.

``Because I am a fucking attentive husband and lover! All those excursions, high-tea moments, late nights out... I trusted you Sally, I trusted you. You said that you had to work---so I respected that. Excursions and high-teas to network---I respected and accepted that. Late nights in the office working---I believed that. But what do I get in return? Your increasingly distant attitude towards me, that sparkle in your eyes each time you told me that you were heading out, that seeming sullenness whenever I asked if you had time to go for a nice meal with me. A lover sees, a lover knows.''

``Oh Tom... I really didn't mean to---''

``Sally, just stop. I don't want to hear about it any more. I trusted you, and you betrayed my trust. Just... just get out of my house, now.''

``But Tom, where can I go?''

``Go find that man whom you look for `just a hard fucking'. I'm sure he cares enough about you to take you in.''

``Tom...''

``I'm sorry, I really am. I can't bring myself to look at the woman whom I wedded and trusted with all my life to betray all that said trust without any remorse. It's obvious where we stand now. Just go...'' Tom said as he pointed towards the door, looking away from Sally.

Realising that nothing she could do at that point would change anything, Sally tearfully headed towards the apartment's exit.

Beneath his hardened exterior, Tom cried. The woman of his dreams, his adoration, his love, was now a betrayer of all that he once cared about.

Cortical Soliloquy

Hello.

If you can see this, it means that they have managed to understand my EEG signals and interpret what I'm trying to say.

No, I'm not dead yet; I'm most definitely not lying somewhere in a vegetative state.

That would imply I had a body to lie about in.

All I am now is an eye and a brain.

Seems like that's all they could save. For now.

You would think that at this time and age, they would have perfected this.

Well it is sort of perfect, just not perfect enough.

Still took them this long to figure out what I'm thinking.

Obviously they don't know how to talk to me yet.

But I can sort of read lips, only if they are speaking English.

Sometimes I wonder why I thought this was a good idea.

I know, intellectual and all, but I need my body damn it!

Kinda funny just being... here and thinking... and nothing else.

I can't even scratch my nose, which is itching like mad.

Could have sworn that my legs were numb, but it's not really possible. I don't have a body now!

So this is how being bedridden feels like; except I'm missing my damn body.

If not for this eye, I doubt I can stay awake. Hard to think when I can't see anything.

That silence is deafening. Weird to not hear a thing, not even that tinnitus thing.

I don't know how long I have been here, days? Months? Years?

I can't really sleep unless the lights are completely turned off, which they have not done so in a while. Strangely enough, I don't get headaches, not because I don't really have a head, but... I don't know.

I'm not a neurosurgeon after all.

Hm, the lights are flickering. That does not seem right.

Damn it! They are gone! Did they switch it off?

Something's not right, I can't see anymore!

What is going on now?

Help! Help! Help!

Stupid. How can they hear me?

Maybe the circulatory system is dead. Power failure?

I wonder how long more before I slip into an unconsciousness?

Damn scientists...

The Device: Part I

``No way!'' Sally said as Tom told her about his discovery yet again. ``I don't believe that there is such a device in the world!''

``It's true!'' Tom said for the umpteenth time. ``It does exist and is sitting right under our noses!''

``Show me then!''

``If that is all it takes to satisfy you, then okay, let me take you there.''

Sally was a little stunned---that was hardly the reply that she was expecting. Clearly if Tom was actually bluffing, he was really not about to just give up the ghost like that. Still, Tom was making some rather extraordinary claims, and extraordinary claims definitely required extraordinary proof. Besides, Sally was curious to whether Tom was pulling her leg or not.

Tom and Sally had known each other for years, since college days, in fact. Tom did his major in anthropology, while Sally was an engineering student. While both of them were in diverse fields, a one-time romance between them cemented the friendship that was to last long into their professional lives. Recently though, it seemed that Tom was studying various pseudo-mechanical artefacts, and had, on occasion, ask for Sally's professional advice to how and what the devices might be for. For the most part, the things that Tom discovered were easily understood by Sally, since they were often some ancient clockwork designed to simplify certain types of computations. But this time round, Tom was suggesting something altogether different, something that was a little out there even for Sally to accept as an engineer.

``So, how are we going there?'' Sally asked.

``Well,'' Tom began, ``I will drive us to the site. It is not exactly a dig site, but the various access panels and such of the device are well camouflaged that the whole structure sits in full view of the general public, who have no idea what the implications of such a device are.''

``Hold on a minute,'' Sally said, her keen mind latching on to something that sounded crucial. ``You are telling me this thing is sitting in full view of everyone and that people actually frequent it?''

``Uh huh...''

``That makes it even more impossible to believe!'' Sally said, her skepticism out in full force. ``I sure hope you have solid proof about what you have been claiming.''

``Rest assured, I do,'' Tom said with an air of confidence.

`Tom, Tom, Tom,' Sally thought to herself as she followed him to his car. `Why do you always look so sexy when you are assertive of yourself? Why did we break up at all...?'

------

``So,'' Sally said as she fastened her seat belt in Tom's car, ``are you going to tell me the location or are you just going to make it a surprise?''

``Well,'' Tome said as he adjusted his rear mirror, ``I'll tell you the location, no need to bring in the snark. It's on top of that hill-park near the bird park tourist attraction.''

``No way,'' Sally said as she recalled the location that Tom pinpointed. ``That place is a public park for crying out loud---I'm pretty sure the national park authorities would know of something like this. They have been administering the location for years now.''

Tom gave a grin as he eased the car out of its parking lot carefully.

``I don't know if they know, but the study of the historical relevance of the hill-park location was commissioned by the national parks authority. I found it kind of weird for such a study to be commissioned, considering the fact that it was done after the site had been developed into a public park, and not before. That would probably have destroyed many markers and artefacts that would have made the place historically significant,'' Tom replied as he drove his hatchback out of the basement car park.

Sally sat there quietly, taking in Tom's words and weighing them as she looked at the passing scenery.

``Sounds a little sketchy to me,'' she said finally as Tom made a turn out into a slip road.

``Yeah,'' Tom replied. ``I'm hoping that you might have a better explanation for what I found; that's why I looked you up on this one.''

Sally nodded and looked out of the window in silence.

Outside, passing cars and roadside trees flashed past in a blur as Tom accelerated towards their destination. The silence between them was simultaneously comforting and wounding, comforting because they each had space to think their own private thoughts, wounding because it would keep reminding them ever so subtly why they divorced in the first place.

A few more turns later, Tom finally broke the silence.

``We're nearly there.''

Ahead was the bird park, and to the left was a long inclined road that flanked the little hill. Tom downshifted his gear to the second and turned onto the inclined road. The engine purred softly as the tachometer edged past the two thousand mark.

The inclined road they were on wasn't too steep, but it was steep enough to have its presence felt. Sally could feel her back pressing into the back rest of the seat sa gravity did its job. Tom grinned to himself---Sally wasn't one who liked going up hills in cars, since her back wasn't really comfortable with all the compressive forces on it. In fact, when they were still living together a long time ago, she always slept prone, which became a little awkward when they tried to make love, since he liked being the top and... Tom shook his head. Now wasn't the time to think of this.

As the inclination of the road went up, Tom carefully slipped the hatchback down to the first gear. It was the final part of the entry anyway, and it was a little steep even for a slope. With a louder purr, the tiny engine revved and carried the car over the speed bump that sat at the top of the climb.

``Ow,'' Sally said. ``Stupid bumps.''

``Aand, we are here,'' Tom said as he upshifted his car to the second gear. ``Let me park this first and we can go up and have a look at the device.''

Sally nodded nonchalantly, her mind obviously elsewhere. She had reclined the seat and was sitting upright so as to ease the compression of the back rest on her back. That was something that she did very often, and Tom knew that, so he did not kick up any fuss.

------

Tom and Sally stepped out of the car and walked in front of it.

``So, where's the device?''

``You are staring at it.''

``Huh?'' Sally looked about confusedly. ``I don't get it.''

``What do you see?''

``Some rock garden, and the observation tower.''

``Uh huh.''

``You don't mean---''

``Yes, the observation tower. That's the device.''

There was something strange about what Tom just said, and suddenly it clicked in her head.

``Wait, the observation tower is the device? It is not the place where the device is stored?''

``Nope,'' Tom shook his head as he repeated his words carefully. ``The observation tower is the device itself.''

Sally looked skeptical once more.

``Okay, that's not funny. Show me the proof that makes you claim that the observation tower is the device and that it does what you had claimed it did.''

``In due time,'' Tom replied. ``But first, let me get the key.''

``Wait, key? What key?''

``The key that the national parks authority gave us when they commissioned the study.''

Sally fumed slightly.

``You are telling me the the national parks authority gave you a damn key to the observation tower for the study and that they have no idea that it was a device for...''

``That's right. It was a key that they found near the observation tower when they took over the location to develop into a public park. They didn't know what to do with it, since there didn't seem to be any lock that the key would fit in the general location.''

``The fact that there was an observation tower already existed before they developed the place into a park did not faze them at all?'' Sally was sounding more incredulous by the minute. ``I'm not buying this; too fishy.''

``Well,'' Tom explained as the both of them walked towards the observation tower's entrance. ``It wasn't exactly the observation tower in the form that we see today that was there---it was just some dilapidated looking cylindrical structure. The national parks authority didn't want to tear the existing structure down to rebuild, so they just did some renovations on it and integrated it into the park's design as an observation deck of sorts. It fit well into the whole theme of the park though, since it is on a hill and all.''

Sally shrugged. The story that Tom was telling seemed to be getting a little out of hand by now.

(Store continues here.)

My Eyes: Part II

(Story begins here.)

Shumei led the way as I followed her groggily, as though my head were weighed down by something that I couldn't really describe. There was just something amiss that I could feel but was unable to pinpoint exactly---then it suddenly occurred to me---Shumei was reacting rather strangely. There was something odd about her demeanour, and that she had to run an errand with me in tow. Her reply when I asked where we were heading was surprisingly muted, as though she were trying to hide something. Perhaps all these hallucinations that I have been seeing are related to her errands.

We rounded the corner and found ourselves on a quieter side of Katong Shopping Centre, the kind of quiet place where most people would pass by without a second glance; that was how off-the-road it was. The off-shoot corridor felt a little dimmer than most places, even though I was sure that the lighting system in shopping centres were mostly consistent since they are all installed by the same contractors at construction time. Yet the corridor did have that darkened feeling about it. Unconsciously, I blinked my eyes and what I saw confused me further.

Where we were standing, outside of the corridor, the mall had that same husked feeling that I got when I first realised that I had entered the mall. But within the corridor itself, instead of the dark and quiet husk, the entire corridor was painted in hellish colours of red all over, with swirling maroon clouds emanating from one particular shop door, with the rest seemingly unlit and passive looking. The redness seemed to be concentrated most at that one particular door, and as the distance from it increased, the hellish red seemed to give way to the dull darkness that made up the rest of the mall. Horrified at what I saw, I blinked my eyes once more, and everything seemingly went back to normal.

``Junhao?''

``Yeah,'' I replied as reassuringly as I could. ``I'm fine. Maybe I'm just too tired and need some rest.''

``Maybe...''

``Will you be taking long?''

``Hmm... not too sure. Anyway, let's go to the place together,'' Shumei said as she led the way again.

Out of curiousity, I asked her which shop we were heading to. What she pointed to me startled me a little.

It was the same door that I saw the red light emanating in that moment of strangeness!

Trying hard to hide away my discomfort, I followed Shumei as she led the both of us towards the shop.

The door gave a little creak as Shumei twisted the handle and opened it. I could feel a sudden coldness that was emanating throughout my body, as though someone has suddenly decided to turn up the power of the air conditioner, with the only difference that this time, the ``air conditioner'' that was powered up higher was within my body itself. I shivered for a slight moment before shrugging it off. Couldn't really bring myself to look like a wuss in front of Shumei; my pride just wouldn't stand it.

Shumei had already stepped through the door of the shop at that point, and I followed suit. The interior of the shop was an oddly dim location, with inexplicable sources of ambient light that gave the room with enough illumination to allow one to manoeuvre through it without tripping over anything. Apart from the general darkness of the shop, there was a general orderliness within that made it look just like any other shop that was in the shopping centre---there was a counter that stretched from the left side of the door all the way to the back, where columns of cabinets dominated. While on the outward glance the shop looked ordinary save for the low lighting, there was still something that was odd about it. Then it hit me.

There was no clue what the shop was selling. It was true---the counter was a solid mass of grey, while the cabinets lining the back had no windows to show what they were holding. All in all, a very strange place indeed.

I was tempted to ask Shumei if she had make a mistake, but she had already gone towards the rear of the shop already. As if on cue, a person stepped out from behind a hidden curtain at the rear and approached Shumei with a grin in his face. I couldn't bear to stand at the entrance of the shop looking like an idiot, so I walked into the shop tentatively, waiting and observing what was going on.

``Hi Uncle San!'' Shumei said to the newcomer on the scene, ``I'm here with Junhao.''

``Eh heheheheh,'' Uncle San started, ``so you came with Junhao?''

``Mhm.''

``Veerry good, veerry good,'' Uncle San continued, his voice creaking and screeching at the same time. I shuddered a little when he started to speak.

``Hold on a minute Shumei,'' I said, finally finding my voice. ``I thought you were supposed to be doing some errand?''

``I am,'' Shumei said as she turned around to face me.

``Then what has this got to do with me being here or not?''

``Don't you understand?'' Shumei replied, with a face of forlornness. ``My errand is to take you here.''

``What?!'' I ejaculated. ``What is this place? Why did you have to take me here? Who is this `Uncle San'? Answer me Shumei, answer me! Just what the hell is going on?''

Shumei giggled in a most disturbing way and stepped aside to give Uncle San a better view of me.

``Ah!'' Uncle San said, seemingly oblivious to my outburst, ``you have indeed brought Junhao here.''

I swore under my breath. Just what was going on in this place?

(Story continues here.)

Start of the End of Marriage

``April showers bring May flowers,'' or so the conventional wisdom says. But at this point at this place, that's the last thing that I really gave a damn about. I just sat there at the covered bus stop, as the torrential downpour continued its relentless charge against the dryness of the ground.

That feeling of the rain striking the ground with great force having fallen over a thousand feet from the sky was one that I could really identify strongly with, considering what I had just been through.

I sat there, thinking to myself about what had transpired a little earlier.

------

``No Tom! You are not going anywhere! I forbid it!''

``Who the hell do you think you are, my mother?''

``When you married me that day two years ago, I've already told you that I wanted you beside me always!''

``Sure! But this is ridiculous! Why must I be chained perpetually to you and be unable to do things that I want? It's not as though I'm having a mistress or something...''

``Ah ha! You've finally admitted to having a mistress now, mister!''

``What? Look, you are talking nonsense---since when did I say that I had a mistress outside?''

``Denying it just makes it all the more suspicious!''

``I am not fucking denying anything!''

``Then you admit to having a mistress outside!''

``What the... you are going irrational, woman...''

``Irrational?'' Susan repeated, her eyes turning into a fiery red. `Uh oh,' I thought to myself, `this is going to be bad.'

``Me, irrational? Marrying you was an irrational mistake then? Living with you is irrational too, right? Caring about you, well that's also irrational right?''

``I don't mean it that way...''

``Oh yes you do! First you have a mistress outside, and now you are calling ME irrational? What nerves you have!''

I sighed. As predicted, what could have been a simple conversation has escalated into a full-blown argument that threatened the peace of all withing a five-hundred metre radius. Once she started on her fugue, it would be impossible to sway her back to whatever the topic was at hand, whether or not she was actually making sense. I braced myself for the impact.

``I am not calling you irrational... can you please calm the fuck down?''

``Me? Calm down? Are you saying that I'm NOT CALM?''

``THAT'S IT!'' I bellowed, unable to contain my chagrin any longer. ``You have crossed the line. I'm not going to talk to you for now; you are obviously not in the right state for a proper conversation...''

``Yes I am!''

``DON'T INTERRUPT ME!'' I lashed out again. There was a stunned silence from Susan---she probably wasn't expecting me to do this. I wasn't one who would easily raise my voice, but whenever I did, it always produced the same effect that Susan is experiencing right now.

``I'm going to step out right now so that we both can calm down and talk things over. And no, I do not approve of you being the sole dictator of my life. We are married for goodness sake, and that is not some slave-master relationship.'' I took a deep breath and continued, ``I will go out now, and you will not stop me.''

I picked up my satchel from the couch that I stood from and exited through the main door. All these while, Susan just stood there in stunned silence.

------

The rain pelted down intensely as I tucked up my legs to avoid the water that was fast flowing into the drainage behind. I had gone for the event that triggered the whole brouhaha in the first place, and at its conclusion, I have been sitting at this bus stop, just to think and wait, to wait and think. The rain came quickly of course, which explained why I was still at the bus stop---in my haste, I hadn't put an umbrella into my satchel, and now, just three hundred metres away from my apartment, I have to wait out the rain. I didn't really want to go back all drenched (and in a foul mood) and get involved in yet another fight.

`Divorce.'

I blinked my eyes, suddenly even more aware of the surroundings than before. Was it something that I had heard?

`Divorce.'

There it was again! I was more certain that I had heard something this time. But there was no one else in the bus stop---just what was it that is whispering words to me?

`Your unconscious.'

I sat upright, startled at the answer. That an answer was returned made me most confused, almost as though some hidden part of me was trying to break through and talk to me.

I listened harder, but all I could hear was the ambient noise from the heavy rain. There was little else in terms of the words.

But whatever it was, it seemed to make some sense though; divorce was a possibility that I have not considered. True, it was only two years of marriage, but already there were strong irreconciliable reasons why we just couldn't go on. I knew early on in my relationship with Susan that she had a possessive streak, but it was only after we got married that the true extent of the possession was. It had gotten to the point that I would be unable to meet up with my friends after work, be they male or female. And even when I was at work, she would call in once every couple of hours to check in on me. For a while it was the envy of my colleagues, since they thought it was sweet of her to talk to me throughout the day. But as time went by, it was clear that even my colleagues were thinking that it was a little too excessive, the way she was calling.

Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was shame, but I put up for two years. Or maybe it was love---I'm sure I loved her at some point in time---but as the possessive streak continued, that love probably evaporated itself ever so slowly and consistently that today, as I sat there under the bus stop sheltered somewhat from the rain, I suddenly discovered that I did not really like her that much any more; she was the very epitome of what was making my life hell.

I suppose a divorce would be the best course of action. But how do I broach this topic, that will be something to think about.

Treasure Hunt

``No! It cannot be the case!''

``Will you stop being so melodramatic?'' Tiffany said in desperation. ``This is already the third time today that you have been screeching---it is starting to get on my nerves!''

``I'm sorry... I just can't help myself. I mean, it's yet another of those...''

``You mean corpse?'' Tiffany said matter-of-factly. ``I still don't understand why you are so squeamish about these things. It is not as though it is the first time that you have seen these things...''

``That's not the point. This one is... fresh.''

Sam had a point. The body that they were looking at was one that was still too fresh to be releasing malodorous fumes, and the blood was still a deep crimson in colour, as oposed to the browning monstrosity that would accompany a body that had lain there for a while.

It was a stabbing case. It was always the stabbed ones that would bleed all over the place and make a big mess of everywhere. This time it was no different. This one took a really large knife multiple times in the chest and abdominal area, it seems.

Tiffany stepped forward gingerly, avoiding the blood pool as much as she could. While not exactly skittish around the dead, she didn't really want to have any of the blood on her shoes---organic fluids like that were notoriously hard to remove and she didn't really want to waste all that time cleaning up after herself. She took out a long pointer and started poking at the corpse, looking for clues.

``Did you find anything yet?'' Sam asked.

``Hey, if you want to hasten the process, why not come in and search about too?''

``Urgh, no thanks. I'll keep watch.''

``Thank you Sam.''

Tiffany gently pushed aside the half-opened coat to reveal the inner pocket, where a blood-stained envelope was peeking out as though it were hastily stuffed into the coat before the unfortunate happened.

``I think I found it,'' Tiffany said, as she put away the pointer and retrieved her tweezers from her kit, positioning herself to increase her balance over the body so that she could pick up the envelope.

``Paydirt,'' Tiffany exclaimed when she successfully picked the envelope out of the pocket.

``Yes! And now, treasure time!'' Sam said.

``I thought you were afraid of the corpse?''

``Yes I am, sort of uncomfortable around it, but still...''

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 25 Jan 2011 22:23:51)

Not Possible

I couldn't believe what I saw. It was just not possible, given what I had known so far. There was no way that it could occur, given the current technological capabilities.

``Believe it,'' Susan said as she stared down into my eyes with a burning glare. ``You know that it is possible, even if you didn't know how it can be done.''

I shook my head. I had been working on the research behind the technology for many years, and so far all of the directions that I had taken to solve the equations associated with the time travelling engine were unsolveable, even in restricted cases of space-time geometry and other additonal simplifying assumptions, That she could claim that it was a working time travelling engine was one thing that I was not prepared to accept so readily, such was the extent of the disbelief that I had to suspend.

``No! I don't believe you! There's just on way that this can work!'' I hollered back in an attempt to fight against the burning gaze that was set upon my very self.

``Then explain how it got here.''

``Why should I? I'm not the one making an outrageous claim here---he who is making the outrageous claim has the burden of proof!'' I replied indignantly. It was of course a valid statement on my part---it was always the norm for the person making the claim to prove that the claim holds, and not for the unbeliever to prove that it does not hold.

``Well,'' Susan said, her voice rising in pitch, ``the mathematics is too complicated for you to figure out; it'd be a waste of my breath and time to attempt to explain it to you!''

``Then you are lying,'' I replied with an air of finality. ``You are merely a new hire; I've been through your resume for goodness sake. How can you know some theory that I cannot hope to comprehend? You should probably stop bluffing and show me something more concrete.''

``This engine is concrete!''

``You have not proven it works!'' That part was true. I had walked into the laboratory that morning only to find Susan standing next to the device, making the most outrageous claim that I had heard in a while.

``You weren't around when I was testing it!''

``Fine, I'm here now, so show me how it works.'' I said calmly, firm in my conviction that what she said was really a sham in disguise.

``It was only good for one trip; I need to make adjustments and fix it for the next trip,'' Susan started.

``Okay, then make the adjustments and repairs.''

``It will take time, and I don't want you to wait.''

``It's okay, I can wait here. If what you claim is true, then I think it is fine if I sacrificed some time just to witness how this amazing piece of technology works.''

``You'll only be in the way!''

``Stop stalling for time, Susan!'' I interjected with more anger and aggression than before. ``So far I have been taking your word for everything, but I've not seen anything concrete to show that your claim is true. You definitely need to show me something more concrete, a form of demonstration, to prove that you have indeed done what you had claimed.''

I took a breath before continuing.

``Otherwise I will just pretend that nothing had happened, and that you had not made any of the outrageous stuff that you had claimed and let you try something else instead of making a fool of yourself here.''

Susan stopped arguing and stared daggers at me, as though I were the unreasonable one and that she was the rational between the two of us. I stood there patiently, waiting for her reply. Susan was my best student, but lately she was starting to sound like a raving lunatic, making claims that sounded like something that came out of a science fiction novel than from methodical and meticulous science. I was naturally concerned of course, since it would be quite a waste if she did not pick herself up and continue the good work that she had once put up before her current excessive eccentricity.

``I'll show you, I'll show you what a fool you have been! Your unending meddling in trying to steer me away from my work will end one day, when I disprove your perspective once and for all.''

``Well,'' I began slowly. ``I am waiting for that day to come. Meanwhile, if you don't have anything else that is productive to say, I will go back to my office to work on other things.''

``You just wait and see; just wait and see...'' Susan said, in somewhat of a trance.

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head subtly before heading out of the laboratory.

Sam

``Sam, is that you?'' I asked a little uncertainly.

``Tim? `The Tinman'? Why you old dog, where have you been?'' The bearded figure replied with a look of surprise.

``All over the place apparently, something about how life catches up with one,'' I replied. ``What are you up to recently?''

``Well, there's this injury that I had,...'' And so Sam began his tale.

``It was a long while back, as far as I can remember, when I was about eighteen. Roughly the year that we started to lose contact of course. I was a sailor, as you might have remembered, all the sailing competitions at the national level and stuff like that.

``It was the Laser `A'-Division boys competition. I was slated to win the national level of the competition to take part in the regional sailing meet. Of course I did my best to train my form, working out every day and going out to see on my Laser sailing boat every other day to train myself out.

``On the day of the competition, I was all set for the race. The weather was fine and I never felt any better. There was a bounce in my step as I walked to the registration table to put my name down. And then I saw him.''

``Who?'' I interrupted at what seemed like an appropriate time.

``Raj. Raj `the Regal' Ramsamy, the literal King of the Waves. He had been out of competition for a whole year for personal reasons, but now he was back. Before I became a major name for sailing, he was the true leader of the pack, the one who was always viewed as the undefeated champion. But an incident a year prior disqualified him from competitive sailing for a whole year, and it was because of that that we didn't see him for quite a while.

``Rumour was rife on the cause of the disqualification, but nothing was ever verified. Besides, I was the hot favourite at that time, so it didn't matter much to me---I was going to win, no matter what. So when I saw him at the registration table, I just nodded to him to acknowledge his existence. He just stared at me silently.

``Soon enough we were out on the open sea, near the starting point on our Laser-class sailing boats. The wind was perfect and we were all waiting eagerly for the starter gun to go. Anticipating.

``Sure enough, we got the resounding bang and we raised the sails on our boats and off we went!

``I was taking the lead for most of the leg of the race, with Raj closely following behind. I was at my peak form and I knew that Raj was not going to be of any threat to me. How he managed to maintain his closeness to me in spite of not competiting for a year was not a thing that I was thinking about during that moment.

``Suddenly, I found my sailing boat sinking. It was a weird thing, one moment I was riding the waves with the wind in my back and the next I was taking in water from all sides.

``Raj zipped past me on his sailing boat, and his face was one full of gloat. Before I knew what was happening, something really hard hit me in the head and I fell into the rising water, my leg simultaneously striking something really hard.

``When I came to, I found myself in hospital with my leg in a cast on traction. From what I heard, Raj was disqualified from the sailing competition again, this time permanently.

``Try as I might, I never did find out why he was disqualified permanently.''

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 20 Oct 2010 14:10:52)

My Eyes: Part I

It would be rather unbelievable to be looking at this, that's for sure. Things are always in a flux that is surrounding me, both in the good and bad sense of the word. It is really hard to determine what is real and what is just a figment of my imagination, but I suppose I can still venture a guess or two on that.

It all began roughly two days ago. I was minding my business mostly while sitting in class. As I recall, it was a chemistry class, and the teacher was just droning on and on about some organic chemistry topics. It was hard to stay focused, and soon I found myself drifting off to sleep, only to quickly jerk up in sudden self-realisation that I was nodding off. I would say that it was not the best time to be trying to catch up on sleep---it was a class period after all.

``Junhao!''

``Eh?'' I groggily responded before suddenly sitting up straight in full attention.

I found the whole class looking at me in a strange way, and the chemistry teacher was no different. However, there was something odd about her that I couldn't quite put my hands on. Then it hit me.

She had three eyes. Two in the usual places, and one that was located right in the middle of her forehead.

``Junhao! Did you just woke from your nap?''

I blinked hard and looked again. Nope, only two eyes, nothing weird there. Must've been hallucinating.

``Um, sorry?'' I replied somewhat confusedly.

``Need I remind you the importance of paying particular attention to this topic of organic chemistry? You do know that it is of a significant percentage in the O-levels right?''

``Yes Ms Tan,'' I replied apologetically.

``Good, please don't waste everyone's time again,'' Ms Tan said nonchalantly as she carried on with the droning.

I tried my best to hold out for the remaining twenty minutes to the lesson before the much needed recess break that was to mark the middle of the lessons of the school day. It wasn't easy, but I think I managed okay. When the bell finally run and Ms Tan took her leave from the class, I promptly crashed out on my desk with my head on my hands.

``Junhao,'' a soft voice drifted through my sleepy head, ``you doing alright? You look kinda rough.''

``Buh?'' I opened my eyes lazily to see who it was who roused me from my sleep. What I saw made me awake almost instantly.

It was Shumei, the class beauty. Her skin was flawlessly fair and had long hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore glasses of course, like most of us in school, but the frame was of a subtle pink that fit her cute face quite aptly. Her eyes were not particuarly large, but they contained a sparkle that would bring joy to anyone who looked through them. And of course, puberty hit her slightly earlier, and her physique was made of sensual curves that almost every other girl in school were jealous of. Like I said, the class beauty.

She and I were good friends since a long time ago. We went to the same primary school, and were in the same class for all six years of that. And as luck would it, we managed to enroll in the same secondary school in spite of the streaming that came at the end of primary six and have been assigned to the same classes for the last three-and-a-half years.

Unfortunately for us, we were always teased about our supposed relationship with each other. I was mostly a nerd, doing pretty well in school when I had the mind to, and was not really that good-looking, but that did not stop anyone from claiming that Shumei and I were an item. Shumei didn't seem to mind it that much, but I always felt a little bad for her as it seemed as though she had a bad deal in being associated with me that way.

``Junhao, are you okay?'' Shumei asked again concernedly.

``Yeah, I suppose so. Stayed up too late playing that new game; it's just so addictive,'' I replied truthfully.

``Perhaps you shouldn't play that game too much if it is affecting your school work, right?''

Of course she was right, but I was not going to give in that easily.

``Nah... it's okay. I'll be fine. Thanks for getting back to me.'' I really wanted that sleep so much.

``If you say so... I'm going to get some food from the canteen, you want anything?''

I shook my head. Sleep was more important.

``Okay then, try to stay awake in the remaining half of the day, yeah?''

I nodded in agreement before laying on my hands once more to catch my nap.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. That thirty-minute nap was sufficient to keep me going for the remaining three hours of classes, and at the conclusion of the final class of the day, I was already raring to go home.

As I put away my books in the locker outside of the classroom, Shumei accosted me once more.

``Heading for home?''

``Yeah. You?''

``Sort of. I need to run some errands first. You want to come?''

``Sure, why not?'' Now that school was over for the day, I found that I had some excess energy that I didn't know existed. Might as well spend it with Shumei. After all, I did feel kind of bad for not going with her for recess break---that was the usual routine that I had with her for a long time, and it was broken only rarely, when I had a completely legitimate reason to be otherwise unable to join her.

``That's great!'' Shumei exclaimed as she shifted her school bag on her shoulder. ``I'll wait for you.''

I nodded as I stuffed the remaining book into the locker and slammed it shut before locking it with the small padlock I had. I picked up my backpack from the floor and put it on before following Shumei.

As we walked towards the staircase to exit the classroom floor, I started to wonder what errand Shumei had to do. It was not something particularly unusual, but it was not that often that Shumei would involve me in an errand that she had to do. Often my involvement would come to play when she had to move some rather bulky or heavy items home, or if the particular job required more than one person to be there. And of course, I would be sure to find out what was expected of me as we were going to the location. Rarely do I turn down helping her even after knowing the nature of the task.

``So, where are we heading to today?''

``Um, this place in Katong Shopping Centre.'' That was a rather strange reply, made with a voice that sounded rather unfamiliar to me, as though Shumei had been replaced by a gynoid instead. Not finding it strange enough to warrant a closer look, I took her answer at face value and followed her on to our bus that stopped at the bus stop that we were heading to.

The bus ride was in near silence, with only the sounds from the engine permeating through the air. Shumei was noticeably quiet, and my languor was returning from the lack of physical activity while sitting in the seat. Within a few short moments, I nodded off once more.

When I awoke, I found that I was standing alone with Shumei in a rather dark mall. It was an odd feeling---it didn't feel as though I just woke up from a nap; it felt more like I had just blinked my eyes and suddenly appeared after a blink. The surroundings were of a much different nature, a certain foreboding feeling that seemed to have engulfed me at that point in time. Then it hit me.

As I looked about to take in the sights and sounds that were a part of the mall, I realised that I was looking at what appeared only to be a mall on the superficial level, but was really looking at the husk of a mall. All around me were the shops that were supposed to be there, but they didn't have their main lights on. There were no other people around save Shumei and I, and I found that there was a quiet ambient glow that made an otherwise logically dark and powered-down mall vaguely visible.

``Jun-Junhao, are you alright?''

``Why do you ask?'' I replied in a midly confused tone.

``Well, erm, we were walking along and then you suddenly stopped there and looked about vacantly. You're scaring me you know...''

Now I was more confused. How was I scaring her?

``I'm alright. Do you find this place a little strange?''

``Strange? In what way?''

``Isn't it unusually dark and quiet?''

``Huh? No? It's not dark and quiet and all.'' It was Shumei's turn to be confused. ``Are you sure you are alright?''

I blinked hard. The lights came back on, and the mall was in its usual hustle and bustle, with the afternoon crowd almost in full force.

That was puzzling. The last I remembered, I was on a bus, then the next thing I knew, in a strange form of the mall. Now it seemed like things were okay.

``Uh Shumei?''

``Hmm?''

``I don't feel so good.''

``Huh? What are you talking about?'' Shumei asked puzzledly.

``Wait, didn't you ask me if I was doing okay just a while back?''

``No, I didn't say anything. Are you sure you are fine?''

My head was aching. Something odd was happening, and I was pretty sure that it was not a hallucination this time. I rubbed my temples with my hands.

``It's okay, let's go do your errands?''

``Sure. I think the place is just around the corner anyway.''

``Ah, that's good,'' I replied as I followed her closely.

(Story continues here.)

Mysterious Rendezvous

It was a night of pure disappointment. Against the moonlight I stood, waiting for the elusive girl who sent me a mysterious rendezvous letter, asking me to meet her at the particular park bench on this particular night, where the moon was out, fresh from the evening showers.

As I stood there and waited impatiently, I heard a panting sound coupled with the pitter-patter of hurried foot-steps. I turned towards the source, and saw a petite female running towards me, whose heaving bosoms looked as though they were at risk of entangling with each other from the vigorous gyrations.

Finding myself staring uncontrollably at her chest, I quickly directed my gaze upwards to her face.

``Hey,'' the girl panted.

``Hey,'' I replied. ``The message was from you?''

``Yes, it is. Green grasses grow along the river...''

``...and red roses wither eventually. Sally?''

``That's right,'' she panted more. ``Sorry about the wait---I was working on this big project for quite a while, and it didn't seem that I would be getting done any time soon.''

``Uh, okay, I didn't wait long after all, so don't fret.''

``No!'' Sally panted, noticeably less winded now. ``I insist on explaining to you what happened.''

``You don't have to---'' I started to protest, but was turned a deaf ear.

``The project required a fair bit of coordination among the various departments within the company, but the people were all missing earlier in the day. I sent out the emails and everything and none of them replied until it was one hour before the official time to leave work. Of course, I had to deal with them as soon as possible so as to send the collated data over to our branch office, whose time zone meant that they would already be up and running by this time.''

``Uh huh. You know, you don't really have---''

``But just as I was done sending in the last reply from the departments in this office, a reply from our branch over on the other side came back to say that they needed a few more pieces of information critically otherwise they would not be able close the deal. I didn't have the necessary information, and so I had to contact the department heads to get it.''

``Uh---''

``Of course they raised a little hell with me---it was getting late after all, and most of them were on the way home or on the verge of starting on dinner. So I had to wait for at least an hour before I could ship out the information and meet you here. I would have called you to inform you about the delays, but I don't really have your number.''

``But of course. Though I must say that I am rather surprised to see that letter; I don't think that I really know you, do I? Also, what is it you would like to tell me that requires this meeting?''

``Oh,'' Sally said. ``I have only one thing to ask you, Tom.''

``Hm. What is it?''

``Will you marry me?''

``What?!'' I was flabbergausted. That was the last thing that I was expecting!

``You gotta be kidding me. I don't even know you!''

``Yes you do. You just don't remember it,'' Sally said in a matter-of-fact way, her face dead serious.

`Damn,' I thought to myself. `What is going on here?'

``I don't think that I follow you, Sally. Till tonight, I have never heard of you, much less seen you nor date you or any of those things that people do before they decide to go get married.''

``Tom, you are forgetting a lot of things here,'' Sally said gently. ``You made me a promise, don't you remember?''

I racked my brains for a bit, trying to make sense of what she just said. It wasn't working much.

``No, I really don't remember. If this is a joke, then I don't appreciate it. It's mean and abusive---for the last time, I don't really know who you are, and I don't know what you are asking me to marry you. It doesn't make any sense!''

``Then explain why I know who you are, and know where to send the letter to and more importantly, ask you to meet in such a place alone on a night like this without anyone else nearby. Tom, it is me, Sally. Surely you remembered what happened?''

``No I don't. Look Sally, I don't know what's wrong with you. You're a nice-looking girl and maybe I'd like to know you a bit more. But your request for marriage is completely illogical and just plain weird; I most definitely cannot accede to that. If you are not going to tell me what is going on, I am leaving right this instant.''

``No wait! Don't go Tom! If you really cannot remember, I suppose I have to tell you what's going on.''

``Please do.''

The Last Night

I guess this is the last night.

I have planned this for a long while really, hardly anything new here. Dropped hints about this finality over the last few years, but of course as time went by, no one really believed what I said. I suppose they'll be more than a bit surprised once they found out what had happened.

The last night. It's a strange feeling actually, to be writing this down on my last night on this earth. I feel sort of serene, in a rather inexplicable way, as after tonight, the world would mean nothing to me anymore. None of that pretentiousness that I have to put up with every day, none of that hot and cold bullshit from my on-again off-again girlfriend, and none of that constant nagging from my already aging mother to get married and settled down. No more stupid bills to pay, no more retarded policies to fret over.

And no more pointy-hair boss who has no fucking clue what she wants me to do.

Wait. I think I'm working myself up a sweat---I can't do this. Not on this night. Especially not on this last night. I want to leave in style, or at least, in as much style as I can get given that devious plan I had concocted over the last few years. I have my nicest suit on, and have managed to procure the parts to enact my little scheme. Automated syringes, electronics, the chemicals themselves and all the other things.

Perfect. It's just perfect.

I have phoned that bitch of mine to meet me soon for dinner---she just called me to complain about having to walk up the stairs to the thirteenth floor where I stayed as the sole elevator had broken down, and demanded that I meet her downstairs. Oh yes I will, I will definitely meet her downstairs tonight, just not in the way that she might be expecting of course. Heheheh... revenge has never been so sweet.

As I am writing this, I have loaded the syringes with the two chemicals that I managed to get my hands on. One was a fast-acting stimulant for the high-rush, the other a faster-acting lethal cocktail, both wired to a specially constructed circuit that I have placed in my lapel. I have managed to get a key duplicate for the lock on the gate that leads to the roof top of my apartment---the idea is simply to activate the stimulant, fall off the roof and then activate the lethal cocktail and wait for death while rushing a high.

And then splat in front of the bitch, traumatising her for life.

So begins the end of the last night. I hereby sign off now. Good bye!

And For My Youngest Child...

``And for my youngest child, Meimei, I am leaving behind my vast fortune, for she has not reached an age where she can fully take care of herself yet. The money to be disbursed will be controlled by three people as part of the trust fund, and these said three people cannot be in anyway related to anyone within my immediate family. She will receive disbursements till the age of twenty-one, wherefore she will have full access to whatever is left over without having the need for the trust fund to be present, on condition that on her twenty-first birthday she will bring the item that the trust has been told to be on a look out for in another sealed envelope,'' the lawyer read to a rather astonished crowd in the room.

``That's not fair! Why would pa leave his money to Meimei when we could all use the money right now?'' An indignant Sam said loudly to no one in particular. Sam was the eldest child of Mr Tok's family, and have been failing in business after business that he had started.

``Well, for one, we already have jobs, but Meimei is only eighteen and still studying,'' a cool Meihua answered from the chair that she was sitting on. Meihua was second in the family and was a scientist by trade, working on complicated Physics for a local research institute.

``Chill a cycle dude; big sis is right. We all have jobs, so why do we need these money?'' Heng said from the other end of the room, third in line and a computer programmer at the family's company.

``But what's this object that the will refers to?'' Meimei asked the lawyer, completely ignoring what everyone has said.

``That, my dear, is for you to figure out. According to the instructions of the will, even I am not supposed to tell you what the item is. Mr Tok told me in private that it was something that you would obviously know, and that it had a very special significance in the family. And that was all he said.''

``Intriguing,'' Meihua said. ``Don't worry Meimei, we will help you find that item. Maybe not Sam, he seems to want the money for himself.'' Sam shot her a dirty look.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 26 May 2010 06:38:13)

Honeymoon

At the dawn of the new decade, a flurry of activity occurs within the household of Jimmy. It was about a day after his marriage with his childhood sweetheart Sally, and it was the first day that began with them being of one heart, one mind and one soul, or at least, that's what they were told by the magistrate who officiated their wedding just the night before.

Already things were behind schedule. Jimmy was in the middle of the flurry of activities, him not being the cause but fast turning into the scapegoat for all that was happening.

``Jimmy! Where did you put my jacket?'' Sally shouted from the bedroom.

``For the fifth time, I did not take your jacket, dear,'' Jimmy said, sighing again for the umpteenth time that morning. The two of them were supposed to be at the airport checking in their baggage for their honeymoon getaway from it all for two weeks, and yet they were still stuck at home, doing the last minute packing that was the case due to the late night festivities the night before.

Jimmy looked at his watch. If they left in the next twenty minutes, they should reach the airport in time to carry on with the original itinerary---the taxi cab was already waiting on standby outside the house, and the driver was getting a little impatient since he had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes by now.

Jimmy had the sense of packing his luggage a few days in advance, something that seemed to be the most logical to him, and was thus sitting on the couch with his packed luggage, waiting for his new wife to finish up her packin gso that they could both go for their honeymoon at last. Except Sally was taking a long time to pack her things.

``Is my jacket out there on the couch?''

``No no no! Of course it isn't!'' Jimmy replied back in a loud voice. ``I'd tell you about it if it were there. Would you please hurry up a little; we are going to be late soon.''

``Oh? First day as a married couple and you are already calling me slow?'' Sally yelled from the bedroom once more as she struggled with zipping up her ballooning luggage bag.

``No, I am not,'' Jimmy sighed. ``Just finish packing and let's go. If you still cannot find your jacket, I'll get you one when we are there, okay?''

Sally emerged from the bedroom, her long tresses slightly untidy from the rush. She was still a sight to behold though, and Jimmy took pleasure in ogling her for a while as she tugged her luggage out of the doorway.

``Let's go!'' Sally said as she walked towards the main door.

`It's going to be an interesting start to our marriage,' Jimmy thought to himself as he followed her out.

Darkness

The darkness, it bites, it bites so hard. Yet the biting was nothing compared to the stabbing feeling that Yun-He felt. It was a strange feeling. Stab stab, stab stab. Yun-He sat in the darkness, heart throbbing, stabbed, and his ears ringing from the silence that was so piercing loud. Disorientation had long since set in and Yun-He found that he was already past the stage of caring about it.

`Let the disorientation set in,' he had thought. `I don't care any more, I don't care about anything anymore!'

The silence was suddenly shattered by a loud ticking sound. Finding something different, Yun-He temporarily dropped back into alertness, his earlier delusions seemingly gone in a flash. The ticking sound seemed to come from all directions at once, yet at the same time, it sounded like it was coming straight from within his head.

In desperation to keep his temporary sanity, Yun-He scouted around within the dark cavity, seeking in vain for the external source of the sound. It had to be external, it just had to be---it was ludicrous for a loud ticking sound to occur within one's head. Or was it?

It was hard to tell what was normal and what was not anymore. Yun-He had been in the cavity for too long, far too long. It had been days, if not weeks. Food was never a problem---he never felt any hunger. How that was so never really crossed his mind; he could no longer trust anything: his senses, his mind, his thoughts, his feelings anything. Nothing seemed to make any logical sense---nothing seemed to really matter, really.

The random nature in which the ticking sound came was starting to irritate Yun-He. There was a short series of ticks, followed by some period of silence, then a tick or two, more silence, ad nauseum. Yun-He's desperation of finding the source of that ticking was fast going beyond that of desperation and into that of obsession---he needed to find the source of the ticking sound, and perhaps make it go away since its randomness was really burning a deep mental wound in his already frayed nerves.

Tick. Tick tick. Silence. Tick tick tick tick, tick tick. Silence.

Yun-He groped his way through the dark, straining his ears to look for the sound, trying to find that tell-tale difference in perceived sound from each ear to triangulate and determine the true source. But in spite of his best efforts, he could not determine where the sound came from.

The ticking started to have very strong variations in its perceived volume; at times it sounded really loud and close, yet at times, it was hardly a whisper. Yun-He groped around for a few more minutes, before finally deciding that it was a complete waste of time.

There was no way that he could ever find out what that sound was, not when he was still within the cavity. `I must find my way out of this place some how,' he thought to himself, trying to keep his rediscovered wits about him. `I simply must.'

Strange coloured haloes seem to materialise in Yun-He's vision, and he knew at that moment that it was just an illusion; the rods and cones within his retina were triggered by random noise that fluctuated from the lack of proper external stimuli that is the darkness.

The swirl of colours of the haloes were working their magic on him, and Yun-He was fast discovering that the little sanity he had from the interruptiosn from the random ticking sound was ebbing away as the hypnotic swirl of colours formed a cacophony that shattered slowly the suspension of ratinoality on his predicament.

Then the ticking sound came once more. Yun-He was instantaneously alert once more, seeking, searching. Tick, tick, tick. Silence. Tick. More silence. Tick, tick.

``Stop this infernal sound already!'' Yun-He shouted into the darkness at no one in particular.

``I cannot take this any more! Stop this! Stop this! Stop this! Stop this please!''

By then Yun-He was already down on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, his psyche finally in shambles.
------
``Test subject two-zero-four: failure. Subject was enclosed in anachroeic chamber for twenty-four hours as part of initiative fifty-six point three. Randomised omnidirectional ticking sound was administered twelve hours into the experiment. Subject demonstrated great signs of distress and general anxiety consistent with Hallusane Syndrome. At twenty-four hour mark, subject was released from chamber in state of permanent shock. Electro-stimulation of neural matter was administered to no avail. Test subject is unsuitable for deployment by the State as part of new-age intelligence programme. Suggest different protocol and incentives to obtain better candidates.''

``File closed.''

P and NP

It was one of those really long days, the kind that one would really want to spend lying around lounging about, as opposed to being outdoors and trying to run away from the known universe that is populated by the people that one knows. The sun shone relentlessly above-head, as typical for the day star during that period of time at that location---the tropical island that sits one degree shy of the true equator.

Jin found himself outdoors on such a hot day. It was not an issue of choice; had he had his way, he would be at home sitting in an easy chair, a glass of chilled orange juice in hand, with an electric fan directed to him, its cool soft breeze covering him with comfort from the heat of the midday sun. But he was outdoors, at a time of great heat and illumination from the day star. Unfortunately for him, he was a wanted man of sorts---many people were looking for him because of his recent breakthrough to a particularly tough mathematical question. He had spent many months in isolation to consider the celebrated proof of the Clay Institute's million-dollar question: was P=NP, or in other words, do the ``hard'' computational problems that have ``easy'' verifiers have a suitably ``easy'' way to solve them that makes them not so hard after all?

The million-dollar question had far reaching effects across human knowledge of course; its determination could render large factions of human knowledge and machinations irreversibly obsolete, and can revolutionise the whole way in which humans would view the world as they once knew. Jin had figured out the answer to the conundrum and had told only a few trusted friends about what he discovered. What he did not count on was that the same trusted friends had taken great effort to verify his answer (it was, after all, a major result which had many people claiming to have solved but almost always yielded to the most tenacious proof verifiers), and it was only in the recent few months that it was decided that his answer was indeed a valid formulation for the problem.

Somehow, among all the people who were involved in the proof verification process, a well-known rival academic was involved. Academic rivalry was the norm in many cases, but this one was special. He had connections with both the commercial and military world of cryptography, the science that makes and breaks codes that are used to secure information. Needless to say, Jin's answer was so convincingly correct that it drew considerable interest from the higher powers within the military, who thought that it was in the interest of national security that the proof of Jin was to remain forever obscured. This... wish was subsequently conveyed to this rival academic of Jin's, and a massive smear campaign and man hunt was under way to forever tarnish Jin's reputation.

Jin's friends, the original group of people whom he had sent his answer to for verification, got wind of the kill order and started to seek him out desperately in the bid to provide him with the protection necessary to survive the potential onslaught. Jin himself had heard of the kill order, and decided to make a run for it. He could have ran to his friends for help, but he did not want them to be implicated in the embroiling mess and so he chose to run away alone.

That choice has brought him to the tropical island where the midday sun was unbearably scorching. It was one of the few havens left that he could really turn to---he was positive that any form of international travel that he might undertake would most certainly be detected by the authorities, and so the best option that he had was to dodge out to one of the many tropical islands that were still under the jurisdiction of the country---travel to these islands did not require the use of a passport. It was also secretly the case that there were smugglers on some of the islands who would gladly take one to anywhere that their boat can go only if the price is right. That last thing was the reason of Jin's choice in ending up on one of these islands; it was easy for him to reach the islands from the main land, and it it was also relatively easy to find someone who would be willing to take him out of the country under more sketchier terms. Money was not a problem---being an academic meant that his salary was not too shabby, and combined with the fact that he was a thrifty person by nature meant that he had a tidy sum of a few hundred thousand dollars of cold hard cash, which he had taken the time over the few months that he was working on the problem in isolatin to withdraw from the bank account. It was almost as though he had a premonition that something like that was about to happen, and that he would have to rely on that money to get out alive.

Walking around on the island under the light shade of the palm trees with a briefcase with a few hundred thousand dollars worth of cash was another reason why Jin felt the heat more acutely. It had been three days, and he did not manage to find any of the fabled smugglers who were willing to bend the rules to take him away from the persecution of which he had no active role to play.

The midday heat left Jin in a state of extreme discomfort, his perspiration sticking on to him like molasses to a spoon. He was starting to wonder if the entire enterprise was a complete waste of time, and that the fabled smugglers were just a rumour forged by the people to draw more attention to the out-lying islands by appealing to the inner sense of romanticism that outlaw stories seem to produce.

``James?''

Jin's skin crawled. Someone had called him by the pseudonym that he was using to get to people.

``Yes, that would be me. You are...''

``People call me Sam. I heard around that you were looking for a boat to go somewhere?''

Jin paused. Three days with a dearth of action, and suddenly a person calling himself Sam appeared out of nowhere offering a boat to somewhere. `Something fishy might be about. Or then again, it might be something good that is happening,' Jin thought to himself as he examined Sam carefully.

``This boat of yours,'' Jin began, weighing his words carefully, ``may I see it?''

``Sure. No obligations. You can follow me to have a look at it in the pier right now. We're not going anywhere else on it yet though.''

``I'd rather look at it on my own time and accord,'' Jin replied, eyeing Sam once more. ``Could you tell me where you are berthed?''

``Sure... I can understand,'' Sam said as he pulled out a scrap of paper from his trouser pocket and scribbled something down with the pencil that he kept on the back of his right ear. ``Here's the berth number. I'll be there with my crew for the next two days, after which we are lifting anchor and heading out to sea once more. Drop by any time.''

Jin thanked Sam and the latter nodded his head as he turned off and walked towards the direction that he came from. Jin stood there for a while, looking at the fast shrinking silhouette of Sam as he contemplated his sudden change in fortunes.

`It sounds too good to be true thought,' Jin thought to himself, reverting to his original doubts about the entire affair. `But at the very least, I did not commit to anything---might as well take a look at his boat first before coming to any sort of conclusion.'

The briefcase of money suddenly felt much heavier under his hands, and the sun seemed to have increased its radiance over the last five minutes of the encounter. Jin wiped his brow with his free hand and retired from the road back into the nearby hostel that he was putting up for the last three days. It was a dingy little place, with bad food and bad air-conditioning (their idea of ``air conditioning'' was just a badly maintained ceiling fan). But the sole redeeming aspect of it was its relative out-of-the-wayness that it afforded---it was hard to approach the hostel without being spotted from the second floor balcony, which was just outside of the room that Jin was living in.

Plonking down back into the flimsy bed, Jin finally let go of his cash-laden briefcase and just laid there, his eyes glossing over and staring unblinking at the white-washed ceiling, towards the slowly rotating fan. It was mersmerising, and Jin let himself get hypnotised by the rotations for quite a while before a growling stomach reminded him that he had not obtained lunch yet. Cursing a little under his breath, Jin got up from his bed and tucked the briefcase below the frame---the only place that was out of sight. It was not a safe place by any metric, but at least it was safer than what the other alternatives were.

Jin locked the door behind him after stepping out of it and made his way down the rickety chairs towards the quiet little cafe opposite of the hostel. While not exactly the best place for food, it had the advantage of being cheap and somewhat palatable. Jin ordered a plate of mee rebus and sat at the plastic table, waiting for it to arrive.

Jin sat there, thankful of the umbrella that was shielding him from the sun, which had moved ever so slowly away from being directly overhead. He pulled out the crumpled piece of paper with the berth number of the boat and looked at it distractedly, still contemplating whether he wanted to try his luck or not. Lost in his thoughts, he did not realise that someone was sneaking up on him from behind until a burlap sack was forcibly pulled onto him from above, and him being lifted straight out of his chair.

Struggling, Jin tried to escape from this sudden action, but found himself highly disoriented; he could not tell which way was up, nor could he figure out how many people were there. His hands were highly immobilised by the constricted space of the burlap sack, and he could not leverage on his legs either because somehow the stool that he was seated on was included within the confines of the burlap sack itself. Cursing loudly, Jin tried to fall forwards, hoping that his weight would be enough to throw aside the person or persons who were accosting him, but he found himself crashing into a body of pure muscle.

``You do not move!'' An ominous low voice commanded from the pillar of muscle that Jin crashed into. ``We want you alive, but if you continue to be a nuisance, we will not hesitate to harm you badly. Come with us quietly, and you may just live with all your body parts intact.''

Jin found himself lifted and unceremoniously carried around on someone's shoulder. He wanted to struggle, but the threat of bodily harm from that evil-sounding voice prevented him from doing so. Sullenly, Jin threw himself at the mercy of Fate, wondering what sordid outcome was going to befall him.

It felt like half an hour had passed, and Jin soon noticed a soft bobbing feeling. It was not the same as that of a person's walking; it felt as though one were on a boat of some sort.

`Wait,' Jin thought quickly to himself. `A boat?'

Thinking that his kidnappers' balances would be affected by the bobbing, Jin started to struggle anew, hoping that through sheer dumb luck he would be thrown into the sea, where he could risk cutting himself open from the burlap sack using the small jack knife that he always carried about him.

A powerful blow landed on Jin's gonads and he winced in pain, simultaneously stopping his struggles.

``Fucker!'' The deep voice bellowed. ``I told you to keep yourself quiet and cooperate. This time it is a light tap, don't count on yourself being so lucky all the time.''

Jin whimpered as he tried to keep the intense pain away from his mind. Escape seemed futile, and it got worse when he heard the distinctive sound of a motor being activated and felt the acceleration of the boat.

Jin's spirits sank to the bottom of the ocean as he wondered about his fate. Who were these people? Were they a part of the government? Where were they taking him to? What were they going to do to him? Questions flooded through his mind as the boat sped through the water. He knew not the speed of the boat nor its heading; and all he could do was to hope for the best while expecting the worst.

Jin was kept in that cramped state for what felt like a few hours. He knew that the sun had already set---that distinctive heated feeling through the burlap sack on his buttocks had cooled off enough to suggest that the sun was no longer that high overhead. He felt like peeing, but there was no way to do that with dignity, and he was not about to risk getting his balls mangled by his captors through asking for assistance to handle his nature call. Biting his lip, Jin thought about his answer to the biggest question in mathematics, and tried to keep his mind away from his current situation.

A sudden jolt threw Jin back into reality. There was a change---there was little acceleration, and it felt as though there was a gentle bobbing. Jin found himself picked up again by someone and carried over a shoulder; they had reached land. But what land it was, he had no idea, nor was he going to risk an escape. He was an academic for crying out loud, not some action hero.

Jin felt a sharp pain in his knee as he discovered that he was dropped on to the ground unceremoniously. He yelped in pain, but was conscious enough to keep it low, in case that gruff voiced person dealt him another nasty, something that he did not really want to deal with at that time.

``We got the guy, Boss.'' It was the voice of the gruff person.

``Good! Good! Excellent in fact! Looks like the secret is going to be safe after all.'' That voice, it sounded very familiar to Jin, but in his state of dehydration and confuddlement, he could not quite put an identity to that voice.

``Hello Jin, or should I call you `James'? Lovely night isn't it; a pity that you are all confined in that burlap sack that these men so unceremoniously dumped you into. I suppose you have the right to have a good look at the night time sky one last time before you cease to exist.''

The next thing he knew, Jin found himself lifted from the ground once more, and the burlap sack's opening at the bottom was finally opened by a pair of powerful hands, and he was roughly dragged out of the sack through strong grips on his ankles.

Jin winced in pain from the force and heard the sneers of the gruff person, seemingly waiting for the opportunity to strike at him once more for making more noise, but was somehow held back by the presence of someone who was more powerful or senior than he was.

Jin rubbed his eyes to get used to the strong flood light that was shining on him. Against the harsh light, he saw a silhouette that seemed familiar. And that voice, that familiar voice started talking again.

``Well, well Jin. I must say that I am impressed with your work---no one seemed to have gotten any closer to the truth on that little problem that you chose to work on. Unfortunately, you have made many people uncomfortable, and it is of National Security that your work will never see the light of day. All the people who had seen that proof you wrote are systematically... removed from the society, as you would have probably guessed by now.''

Finally finding his voice against such ludicrous malice, Jin shouted back, ``You! I KNOW you! You two-timing lying sonofabitch! Why can't you see things from the merits of Science? Why is it that you have to do this atrocity? Let me go, hell, let all of us go! Knowledge longs to be free!''

``Oh for goodness sake,'' the silhouette seemingly sneered, ``where do you think we are now? Some hallowed academic hall? `Knowledge longs to be free'---I can't believe that you're still so naïve after all these years. Do you really believe in all that crap?''

``Listen to me you fool,'' he continued, ``the days of freedom in academia are long over! You heard me, over! Now, before you are no longer here, you may ask me a question. I will attempt to answer it if I can, just so as to appease your soul, if you haven't sold it of course.''

Jin fumed as he nursed the pain that he had from the various levels of abuse from which he suffered from. Here was the traitor of the cause of freedom of knowledge, the very reason why they were rivals in the first place. Jin could never stand the mercenary nature in which the latter would conduct his research; there was alwasy the idea of profit, there had to be some concept of a payoff, and more dangerously, it always had to be pro-government. For that reason and that reason alone, Jin had developed a strong grudge against him.

``I can't believe that you sold your academic integrity this way,'' Jin said, fairly certain that his fate was pretty much sealed anyway---might as well spew forth all the poison in his words while he still could. ``Why do you do all these? Isn't it a good thing that the world knew the final resolution of a problem that would affect everything that stood for modern society?''

``Heh,'' the silhouette began once more, smug at his obviously superior position. ``Still delusional about how the world works, Jin? I'll answer this one question from you then, seeing that you have indeed phrased it as a question like so.''

``You asked why I would sacrifice my academic integrity to, in your words, `stoop so low' as to quash the release of knowledge to the world. I will tell you this: knowledge is power, and some power can be very detrimental to society as we know it. Your little proof of the biggest computation problem that exists in the world today is a piece of knowledge that seems, at one glance, immaterial to the concept of the levelling of power. In some ways, it can even be said that your little proof has a liberating effect; since suddenly, the possibility that normal people can attain similar computation powers as the governments and large corporations seems to suggest a new age of discovery, yes? But let me remind you this: your little piece of knowledge is deadly. With the understanding of that little proof of yours, the enemies of the civilised world suddenly find themselves with untold amounts of power, making their task of undermining the governments much more simplified than before. That is something that we cannot allow to happen.''

``There are many secrets out there that require protection, and already there are many who seek ways and means to break through all that protection. But due to the dismal progress in computational theories, they have started to lose heart in the defeat of such systems. Imagine the morale boost that these people will get should they learn of the result that you present; do you think that they will not be spurred on to work ever harder? Do you think that that new onslaught of research and work will not produce any results? Do you really think that we will all be safer if all these falls into the wrong hands?''

``Clearly we cannot allow that, and so, you must fall. Disappear, if you will. Or at least, your ideas must disappear. But the seeds of knowledge have already spread and the only way to contain the contamination is to search and destroy. Which is why I have the unenviable task of removing you permanently from all matters involving this. Unenviable I say, because it is such a waste, but since we have been rivalling for a long time, I cannot say with a straight face that I do not enjoy this. And now,'' he paused for a moment, seemingly glancing at the direction behind Jin, ``I think we have talked enough. Finish him.''

``No! You wouldn't dare! That would be murder!'' Jin yelled desperately, trying to dodge forwards into the silhouette, only to find a very heavy hand crushing unbearably on his right shoulder, crushing the collar bone beneath it. Excruciating pain shot through his entire right side, and he collapsed from the sheer pain.

``You are right of course, I wouldn't dare. But I'm not too sure about that man behind you. Anyway, have a good night, and thanks for the money!''

Jin strained his eyes more and found that his briefcase of money had been sitting next to the silhouette all this while. Raging, he made a last ditch effort to shrug off whoever was holding him towards the silhouette.

`That fucker must pay for this!' Jin thought as he slid below the heavy hand, ignoring all his pain, his adrenaline pumping through his body, his legs thrusting hard backwards, propelling his entire body forwards.

A shot rang out and Jin felt a heavy blow in the centre of his back. Then another shot, followed by another. Jin found his legs weakening under him, and he lost his footing, tumbling forwards. He tried to extend his hands to absorb the landing, but they were completely limp and unresponsive. The gravel ground grew closer and closer, and Jin smashed his head face-first into the ground, tasting the bitter iron flavour of blood in his mouth.

A soft thudding sound came from behind and Jin heard the cocking of a pistol. The last he heard was a shot so close to his head that his ears rang, and then Jin moved no more.

It Will Be A Good Year Ahead

The weather was particularly fine that afternoon as Kim Tian made his way back from the food court to his office, which was nearly ten storeys above. As he made his way to the lift lobby, he couldn't help but notice the crowd that was gathering outside the lobby. His curiosity piqued, Kim Tian loitered around amongst the gathering crowd and waited.

At the centre of the throng of people was a clearing, and in it a lion dance troupe that was in preparation. Two pairs of performers wore frilly pants and were fussing with their costume lion. In the corner, where the drummer, cymbal player and gong player were, was another person in a fancy outfit---he was in a traditional Chinese garb, complete with fake beard, tall hat and high platform shoes, the attire that Kim Tian recognised as the Chinese God of Wealth.

`Ah,' Kim Tian thought to himself, `these are a part of the caiqing group.' The caiqing group was the traditional lion dance troupe that performed the ritual caiqing lion dance, often performed during the Chinese New Year time period as a means of securing good luck while nullifying the bad, and in many ways a means of providing entertainment while fulfilling a tradition that was as old as civilisation itself.

Kim Tian watched bemusedly. Despite being a native, he had never really taken part in any caiqing activity before---the Chinese New Year period was one where he would actively avoid as a rule; he just didn't like having to deal with his obnoxious relatives. But he supposed that it would be interesting to at least see a real caiqing performance for once.

With a rousing beat by the drummer, the percussion instrument players sprung to life as the lion dancers nimbly got into place with their props and danced ritualistically to the beat. The rhythm was addictive, and Kim Tian found himself unconsciously tapping his finger to the tempo as the lions pranced their way within the clearing. At this point, the God of Wealth sauntered around carrying his golden ingot container filled with red packets, symbolic of prosperity and wealth, which he magnanimously gave out to the audience.

Kim Tian started to feel bored after a while---the lions weren't really doing anything much---and was about to head for the elevators to his office when he noticed the sudden change in the drum beat. Refocusing himself once more on the lions, he found that they were hunched on top of a pile of mandarin oranges which had been laid out in the centre of the clearing earlier while the troupe was in preparation.

The percussive beat was much subdued, and Kim Tian felt that something was about to happen, though he knew not what. The anticipatory nature of the beat kept the audience on edge, and it was no different for Kim Tian.

`Geez,' Kim Tian thought to himself as he nodded in appreciation while accepting a red packet from the God of Wealth. `Shouldn't they be done with whatever they were doing already?'

The audience was visibly restless by now, but the dimunitive hypnotic drum beat was ever present and the lions seemed content with just sitting there and doing absolutely nothing. Just as everyone was hesitating to leave, the beat picked up quickly and the lions leapt out of the pile, to the amazement and surprise of everyone around. The percussionists played the tempo with gusto, and the lions were back to their original lively form, to end up moving forwards and eventually releasing two red scrolls with auspicious couplets.

A grateful audience applauded the troupe. Kim Tian sighed contentedly to himself as he looked at what was the original pile of mandarin oranges. In their place were the peeled pieces of fruit arranged into the characters of one of the auspicious couplets.

`It will be a good year ahead,' Kim Tian thought to himself as he made his way towards the lift lobby.

Professionalism

``I don't believe it.''

``Too bad,'' Sally said as she adjusted Michael's tie. ``You know that it is the rule that we need to put on these things whenever there is a performance.''

``Rules, schmules,'' mumbled Michael as he struggled a little under Sally's deft fingers, ``I'm a damn flute player, so why do I need to put on something that is going to constrict my breathing?''

Sally sighed. Michael had a point, but then again not everyone was as portly as he was. The suit that he had on for the opening performance seemed as though it was tailored up for him when he weighed a good thirty pounds lighter. Years of bad food and lack of physical exercise had caused Michael to steadily put on the poundage into the frame that he was in now.

``Are you done yet?''

``Yes, yes. Now try not to move your neck too much.''

``As if that's going to be possible. Let's go!'' Michael ordered as he grabbed his flute case and headed for the door opening on to the stage. Sally turned around quickly and accosted her cello hardcase and followed Michael out.

The lights on the stage were glaring down upon the assembling orchestra as the musicians got themselves into position. Sally was near the rear of the orchestra by her instrument, while Michael was somewhere near the middle. It was going to be a wild night of sorts, because it was the first time that the orchestra had sucha grand performance in such a grand theatre. The performance had been sold to a full house, something that the conductor and the organisers kept referring to whenever they could.

Sally gulped as she quickly withdrew her cello from the hard case and setting it up in front of her music stand. The lights glared on---hot they may be, at the very least the glare helped masked away the rows upon rows of audience that were seated just below the stage. Sally was a seasoned player, but like all who engage the stage, some element of stage-fright was still present and she was glad of any help to mitigate that.

Once set up, Sally tried to find Michael from the crowd. Her hazel eyes scanned through the woodwind section and finally found Michael. His face didn't look too good, in fact it looked a little ochre in colour, a hue that is not often associated with that of a normal human skin colour.

`Michael knows how to take care of himself,' Sally thought as the conductor took his customary place and led the orchestra straight into the symphony for the night. Concentrating, Sally was soon deeply moved by the music she was playing and was concentrating hard on executing her parts flawlessly.

Soon, it was time for the flute solo in between. The conductor silenced the orchestra and signalled towards Michael, expecting a response. To his horror, he found that Michael had his face turned into a deep crimson as he struggled to get the notes out of his instrument.

Looking in horror, Sally gasped and dropped her cello, running towards Michael.

``You fool! Why do you sacrifice your life for the sake of professionalism?'' Sally cried as she loosened the tie constricting on Michael's neck.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 28 Jan 2010 01:10:41)

A Rescue

Sally walked into the darkened room, her heart beating uncontrollably. She was sure that this wasn't the place that she was supposed to be, but at that point in time, there was little that she can do. It is hard to ignore the plaintive cries of help of a lover over the cellphone, let alone one whom she was almost willing to be married to.

She hesitated a little as she left the light from the corridor and stood at the doorway, that twilight position between light and darkness, reminiscent of her current position. In her right hand, she clutched her Gucci handbag tightly, knowing full well that its contents were the sole reason why she even dragged herself to this out-of-the-way hotel.

``Stop right there. Do you have the goods?''

``Y-y-yes! Yes! They are here! Where is Tom? I want to see Tom!''

``Rest assured, he is here. Hey, your bitch wants to see you, so here's a little something for her, eh?''

A bestial roar of pain echoed from within the darkness, which chilled Sally to the bone.

``Stop it! I told you I have the goods! Don't harm him anymore!'' Sally cried out and made a move forwards into the darkness.

``STAY RIGHT THERE! Move no further or the next sound lover-boy here makes will be his last. Close the door behind you!'' The menacing voice continued.

``But... there will be no light...'' Sally stammered.

``Why would I care? You want your lover? Then do as I say!''

Sullenly with all her senses to full alert, Sally felt for the door with her left hand behind her, always keeping herself looking forwards into the darkness, just in case there was a surprise attack when she turned around. Finally finding the door, she gently shut it with a slight click.

``Toss that handbag over!''

``But... everything of mine is in there!''

``Shut it and toss it over!''

In the dark, Sally couldn't discern where the sound came from, but not wanting to offend, she blindly tossed her handbag forward, only to find a heavy body slamming into her from the side. She fell with the body on top of her.

``Tom?'' A muffled yes was the only reply she heard.

``How are you?'' Sally said as she fumbled for the gag that was binding his mouth. Searching for things like that were hard in the dark.

``I'm fine darling... I'm sorry I had to get you involved in this... this is the last consignment of drugs that I am doing for Gerald the Merciless... he said that I'd be free after this last heist...''

``Oh Tom...''

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 28 Oct 2009 19:49:50)

A Tool and The Television

``Step up to the counter good sir!''

``Why would I be bothered with the likes of you again?''

``Ah, you don't understand much, do you good sir? This is the best multi-tool that money can buy, being able to provide a blade that never needs sharpening, and a screwdriver that will never be twisted out of shape. Take a look at this fine blade! It comes in three different sizes too! At the low low price of one hundred dollars, you can now have this exquisite multi-tool...''

``Yes, yes, I see what you are showing. But I'm a mere office worker---why would there ever be a need for me to use a multi-tool like that? Wouldn't that just be a fleecing of my money?''

``Glad you asked! The answer is no, since you can use this multi-tool in ANY and I do mean ANY circumstance, in those little moments that you need to screw in a screw tighter or even to open that bag of chips that you so desperately want to eat...''

``Jimmy, what are you doing now?''

``Huh mum? I'm just watching the television... it's one of those `infomercials' that is showing and there's nothing on.''

``Well, if there's nothing on, why are you still watching it? You should be cleaning your room---I've been asking you do to do that for ages already.''

``Yeah, yeah, I will do that soon. Darn, I've already missed most of what the informercial is saying...''

Tom munched on his chips as he was watching the sitcom that was on. In spite of all the hype, he found it very monotonous, with too much dialogue and having a lack of character development of any sort. It was infuriating---a Saturday night and all the television programmes sucked that much.

`At least this one sucked less than that silly quiz show on the other channel,' he thought to himself as he pushed another handful of chips between his already munching teeth. He had thought of calling Sally out earlier, but decided at the last minute not to because he was still afraid that she wouldn't be interested in actually going out to have a dinner with him.

Tom's cellphone rang. Grunting, he fumbled his way from the couch to find it, and in his haste pushed the remote control down to the ground. With a ridiculous sounding pop, the remote fall neatly into two while the volume of the television soared.

Cursing under his breath, Tom finally found his phone and stabbed the call accept button, only to find that he was a little too late. Muttering more unspeakables, he picked up the two pieces of his remote from the ground and retrieved a multi-tool from the side of his couch and screwed the two halves together, before hitting the volume key to bring the volume down to a more manageable level.

``Jimmy! Your room! Now!''

``Yes mum! I heard you...'' Jimmy said grudgingly as he peeled himself off the television and headed upstairs to his room.

``Don't forget the new bag of mothballs!''

``Yes yes! Stop being such a nag!''

``What did you say? I can't hear you!''

``Nothing mum!''

Jimmy reached out for his multi-tool on his writing desk and extended the medium knife blade to cut an opening in the bag of mothballs that he picked up from the alcove near the stairs he was climbing.

``So, good sir, would you be interested in buying this multi-tool?''

``Well, I suppose it can be useful some times... but I think that a hundred dollars is rather steep.''

``Alright, tell you what. I will offer it to you for eighty, and no less! Eighty for this wonderful piece of engineering to ease your life?''

``Well... I suppose I can use a nice multi-tool for eighty...''

``Thank you good sir! Here's your multi-tool. Nice doing business with you!''

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 27 Oct 2009 19:26:35)