The Battle

It was horrible.

Words were tossed back and forth with no discretion whatsoever.

A hateful jab here, a spikeful retort there.

My heart raced with the frustration!

For ages I had been trying to crack him.

I had to admit, he was a tough one, and it was my first time.

And then he nicked me.

He actually nicked me!

He had dared to draw first blood; a minor cut, but symbolic of aggression nonetheless.

I picked up my bowie knife, flourished once;

And then we were beyond words.

I slashed wildly, resorting to primal instinct.

But he circumvented every blow.

I attempted to be more methodical, calculative, and instead tried to exploit his weaknesses.

But alas even that path proved futile.

Never before had I encountered an opponent so battle hardened!

The skirmish continued for several minutes.

I started growing weary.

He was making me waste my strength by letting me revert to slashing wildly.

Oh so weary.

Then I caught him.

I had him beneath my hand, pinning him to the ground.

With no mercy,

No quick witted finale,

I plunged.

I rammed my knife down, driving my blade almost a third of the way through;

Abandoning the last of my finesse, I pressed down.

I pressed my palm on the back of the blade to drive it deeper.

And with one final burst of strength, I severed him neatly in two pieces!

There he lay, underneath my wet ragged cloth,

Bowie knife triumphant.

Silenced forever.



And then through death, he dealt his final blow.

He was not even ripe!



It explained why he was so hard to crack open.

I followed the lines,

I did!

But never mind that.



There will always be more durians to open.

Highlight of my Week

Dear Thelma,

I met M 52 minutes ago. She was introduced to me through a friend of mine (L), and I thought she was a rather nice person. I did notice that she was in a distraught state though, having just been caught in a minor accident. She woefully told me of how her parents would kill her if they found out, and ban her from ever driving the Honda again. She made it sound like the entire bonnet had been crumpled like a sardine can. In reality, the top of the first letter in her number plate, a "B", had cracked and fallen off somewhere irrecoverable. It was 7pm on a Friday night and all the nearby mechanic shops had already closed. To make matters more complicated, she was acting in a drama which was to start at 8.30pm. With time running out, she hopped in the car with L and took off to the nearest ACE hardware store. There, they purchased a white "no parking" sign, a saw, and some super glue. I met them as they pulled into a parking space, and we immediately began cracking our heads on how to temporarily fix her number plate. The plan was to create a passable impression of a "B" so that her parents would not notice it in the night, then take it for actual repairs the next day. We began sawing off our first little piece, when a call came. Her parents were on the way to see her drama! She began panicking again but was calmed down by L. At that point another car pulled into the adjacent parking space. It was a mutual acquaintance of me and L that did not know M either (J). Being helpful, he came over to investigate and immediately became part of our impromptu repair team. Then another call came with even worse news. Time had finally run out; M and L had to go backstage to put on their make up. Thinking we were up to the job, me and J told them to go quickly. So hastily they went on their way, leaving us two boys crouching down in front of an expensive car belonging to someone else that neither of us really knew, fiddling with a saw and a piece of plastic.

So dear Thelma, my dilemma is rather simple.

What the heck do I do if her parents park near by, recognize the car, and come over?

Awkward Boy




Ps, this all actually happened, with perhaps a bit of drama added...

Okay, maybe a lot of drama added.

And if you're wondering, we didn't encounter her parents.

Thank God.