fongyee

estella

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Not A Home by fongyee, literature

Literature

Not A Home

It was the most bittersweet time of his day yet again. Not favourite but bittersweet, for favourites always carry in them some form of effervescence, but this was enjoyment of the more mellow kind – the kind that brought the occasional gnaw of heartache and the hint of a watery smile. When was the last time he had seen her? Ah, yes. Two weeks ago in China, a place called Chengdu, was it? He never had a knack for remembering things. Easing into his favourite spot on the couch with a cup of Earl Grey in his hand, he turned on the television, wondering if her face would fill it tonight. He thought of her every now and then – at least

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Not A Home by fongyee, literature

Literature

Not A Home

First Cut by fongyee, literature

Literature

First Cut

Slowly and almost reluctantly, her eyes opened in a silent flutter of lashes. The first thing that struck her was the brightness; she immediately brought her right arm up to shield her delicate eyes from the sudden exposure to light. As her vision adjusted, she mentally eased out of her groggy semi-consciousness and began to take in her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was… Wait, what did she even remember? Her mind grasped at nothingness. The more questions got conjured in her head, the less answers she realized she had. Just then, a portly woman came bursting in, as if she would be the one to give her all the answers she ne