memory shelf (400)

once, i built a shelf. it was a wonky, shoddy-looking thing, hanging crookedly from the wall, haphazardly suspended by a combination of metal pieces and some thin rope harness. i recognized this even as i admired my handiwork, this first little achievement. the first time i placed an item on it, it toppled dangerously, swaying… Continue reading memory shelf (400)



it was years ago that your shadow began to follow me, slow at first and then chasing me with a greater velocity as time moved along. you needed my attention, thrived on devotion and trembled under dismissal. (tried to create weakness; remember you're not the villain of this story) and then you wilted, shadow attached to… Continue reading consumption

The Faux Landlords’ Act

It's been another six weeks since my last unusual encounter. The books continued streaming in, piled-up around the house in more stacks than I could possibly get through in one lifetime - only to stop as suddenly as they began. This evening, I'm late coming home from work; too many hours spent making very little… Continue reading The Faux Landlords’ Act

a voice (150)

they call me many things. seductress; a lure; creation ancient and modern. most lately, they call me magician. they accuse me of working craft that's incomprehensible, of possessing inanimate objects to animation and sketching out a story. (four-minute stories were my skill long ago, first struggled with, then mastered) and i follow you around, loyal to technology… Continue reading a voice (150)

another beginning (150)

the night draws closer to its midway point, awash in sparkles falling from fireworks and long slender flutes of a select drink. there's a hush in the air, one that's lifting as the clock ticks on, glittering drinks and shining lights keeping the night awake, keeping sleep at bay. the city isn't tired, yet. anticipation… Continue reading another beginning (150)

a rainy night (150)

she ran, heels slipping and clattering over the wet footpath. rain blurred her vision, melding streetlights and car lights into patches she didn't see until it was nearly too late. blisters had formed several streets ago, and she could feel the leather against her skin - now sodden, still stiff. not for the first time,… Continue reading a rainy night (150)

Study of Living (400)

She paints her lips crimson. This is her favourite part of lipstick, the way the fresh red colour conjures up images of blood and stands out starkly on pale skin, untouched by sunlight. (the colour is her favourite of all, and the best part is the fact that red is the season's newest style. ladies… Continue reading Study of Living (400)

The Bouquet

There was a bunch of flowers on the doorstep when I came home. It'd been a long day at work, mainly sifting through paperwork after my boss decided I had the best know-how to digitize twenty years' worth of archives. The flowers were luxurious, extravagant even. I didn't know anyone who would gift something like… Continue reading The Bouquet

beneath the treasure

on my birthday, you bought me a bracelet. linked to it was one charm, the kind of clasp that you can fasten and unfasten yourself. "add what you like to it," you said, opening up jewellery and fashion sites and going to the charms section. it struck me as patronising even then, like you thought… Continue reading beneath the treasure


"decide," you say. you've been on repeat for a while now, coaxing and demanding, sulking and reasoning, imploring and hoping. it's not the kind of decision i make lightly, you know this by now. i'm cautious by nature, endlessly thinking on every step before i take it. it's make-or-break for me and sometimes i think… Continue reading retraction