Stories
We met again last night. It was a dream, of course. It’s been years. Things have changed, as they do, as they must. You’re back now, you say, from all your travels. From Germany, right? Yes, I answer, and Jakarta and a few other places. You nod, and we blithely ignore the fact that Germany …
She comes in almost every night, after the end of her beat, for a quick meal and then off she goes. The number on her badge, if she had one, would not read as a number at all, but… a feeling? Is ‘exhausted’ a feeling? It certainly isn’t a number. But it is. Hers. The …
There was once a man, a boy and a donkey. The boy was the man’s son, and the donkey was all they had to sell for some money to buy food for they were hungry. I do not know why they were hungry. Perhaps their crops did not come in, perhaps there was a famine. …
When the night dreams, the stars are forgotten and they are not put to bed. Some of them wander off and play and fade away when the much brighter sun shuffles in to take her place. Occasionally, a star would not suffer this ignoble fate but instead prefer to jump to his death. And this …
What do women want? What do the ladies crave for? Is it for gold or is it for diamonds? Is it for a life not bound by fresh-cut roses and felt-cut hearts? Is it a promise of fidelity or a promise of affairs? One woman’s meat is another woman’s poison after all, though some may …
. The Fountain of Youth I It is the end of days. The nurse comes and takes away the vase of flowers, sweeps with her right hand the dead leaves off the window counter, disappears, returns with a fresh bunch of flowers in the vase. These are white flowers, what sort, you ask yourself, but …
I. Labyrinth Macau is a catacomb above ground, alleys mate and marry, magically reproduce, their offspring more tiny lanes that seem to lead you further down an impossible maze. You can get lost here. What good fortune if we did, I thought. Good riddance to Life as we knew it, no more jobs to return …
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.
