There is a pregnant pause.
"Sorta, I guess," she murmurs, stubbing her cigarette on the table
Her fingers scrape through the bunch of drawings kept in the file. Many are dog-eared, withering. On the surface, they are nothing but bleak, dull and random doodles that would never make any sense at all. They are armed with battle scars, who stand tall and proud of the evidence of their bravery. The lines are crooked, winding and long. The papers droop into a low, respectful bow.
Her slender fingers slide against the rough material of the paper. She sniggers and it soon escalates into a maniacal laughter. He glances at her, taking a casual swig of the beer. The scribbles are still there, faded over time. Yet they sparkle, gleaming in the dim light.
Don't you remember? Don't you? They ask softly.
She nods her head seriously, her fingertips tracing the lines. Jagged, uneven and forceful. A sudden spark of indignant, anger and yet bitter regret. A corner of her lips creeps upward, as she flips through the papers almost nonchalantly. She slams the file on the table and leans across it, tilting her head to the side. The cigarette has fallen to the ground, yet it still burns on passionately. Sparks flicker in and out of existence, struggling to survive-- and impossible task. The smoke drifts and floats up in the air, slithering away from the two wretched souls. It hisses in amusement as it watches the exchange between the two doomed souls, one who is trying to redeem what is left of her splintered life, wash away the blackness that has eaten away her soul; the other in defeat, condemned to his own fate already. It smirks and wafts away into another adventure, a new life...
"So?" he asks lowly.
"I... am pleasantly surprised. Name it," she demands hoarsely, combing through her dyed hair.
"I am hurt, that you think so much of me," he leans back into the shadows, but she can still hear the mocking tone-- it is too familiar.
"I see, farewell, we will never have to meet again," she taunts, grabbing the file before standing up.
She takes a step out of her seat and turns.
He makes no movement.
Her steps are deliberate, as she waits for the next sentence to be uttered with malice. The audience is waiting, as she is too-- with an impatient mind. The lines are to be said-- it is the way of the triads, a rule. Her next faltering step is the cue, yet he takes no notice.
Silence still rules. It is too loud.
Where are the shouts? The affronted bangs on the table?
She spins around, angered. What is he doing? He sits at the table, his beady eyes narrowed. His lips curl up into a sneer, a smug look plastered on his face. Her anger amplifies. How dare he toy around with her? She growls, although the temporary disfigurement of her face does not mar her beauty.
"You expected an idiot," he fingers his chin. "Now you lose."
"We'll see."
_________________________________________________________________________________
Ollie : I'm so glad that Alice doesn't have an access to my blog. :D:D:D
... Well, I wanted to reserve the title 'Alice in Wonderland' for another play, but this just fit perfectly. Yesh, I am obsessed with 'Alice in Wonderland' for the moment...
Edit: it is now called 'Alice Apocalypse'. :D
Ollie
"So?" he asks lowly.
"I... am pleasantly surprised. Name it," she demands hoarsely, combing through her dyed hair.
"I am hurt, that you think so much of me," he leans back into the shadows, but she can still hear the mocking tone-- it is too familiar.
"I see, farewell, we will never have to meet again," she taunts, grabbing the file before standing up.
She takes a step out of her seat and turns.
He makes no movement.
Her steps are deliberate, as she waits for the next sentence to be uttered with malice. The audience is waiting, as she is too-- with an impatient mind. The lines are to be said-- it is the way of the triads, a rule. Her next faltering step is the cue, yet he takes no notice.
Silence still rules. It is too loud.
Where are the shouts? The affronted bangs on the table?
She spins around, angered. What is he doing? He sits at the table, his beady eyes narrowed. His lips curl up into a sneer, a smug look plastered on his face. Her anger amplifies. How dare he toy around with her? She growls, although the temporary disfigurement of her face does not mar her beauty.
"You expected an idiot," he fingers his chin. "Now you lose."
"We'll see."
_________________________________________________________________________________
Ollie : I'm so glad that Alice doesn't have an access to my blog. :D:D:D
... Well, I wanted to reserve the title 'Alice in Wonderland' for another play, but this just fit perfectly. Yesh, I am obsessed with 'Alice in Wonderland' for the moment...
Edit: it is now called 'Alice Apocalypse'. :D
Ollie
No comments:
Post a Comment
Have fun scribbling your thoughts :D The pencil... is amused.