Day 152: Guilty love

"Do you need more reasons than this?"
I kept my head down, my fingers in my hair. I sighed heavily and barely managed a "yes".
"Kat...." I raised my left palm to his face to signal him to shut up. "Can you please just.... "
Since I didn't raise my head, and he made no sound, my hand trick worked. I stood up and went to the sink, because just now, he just aimed a blow torch at my throat and I can't talk no more. I hate to say this, but if I had throat cancer, maybe the pain would be lesser than what I'm feeling right now.
"Kat..." he started.
"Will, could you stop trying to talk to me. I have heard enough." I turned to look at him, unable to believe that this was the man who shared my bed, who made me breakfast, who took me to the hospital when I fell, who cooks me dinner, who meets me at the airport, who has sex with me with great abandon. And this was the man who has just told me that he 'accidentally' slept with my sister when she last visited? That they forgot to use a condom and now she's pregnant, and he now tells me that she'll be getting an abortion because they feel sorry for me?  

Day 151: Rumor has it

The rumors have been swirling around the the workplace for weeks that Nancy was pregnant, along with the impending and expected announcement that she will be promoted. That seemed paradoxical because this firm never promoted women who were destined for motherhood. There was nothing sexist about it, only that this was a firm dealing with firearms and a woman who was very good on account servicing would not think it a career advancing move to get pregnant. In this firm, it was a clear "grounding" sign - I'm pregnant, I'm settled, I'm not gonna wield the guns during the field test and I do not intend to improve my marksmanship. For some odd reason, this is the only firearms company that require all it's top salespeople to be top marksmen. Nancy was one of the best, coming from her previous training as a cop. She seemed poised for the top account director's position, just as George retired. Little did anyone expected to hear that she was pregnant, let alone the fact that she will become a single mum. Her love life was never questioned and never pried into. Two days later, the memo was circulated company wide: Nancy Pemberski will now be the new account director, and contrary to rumors, she is not and has never been pregnant.

Day 150: Flowers

She expected at least one bouquet of flowers on her desk that morning, but when she walked past the reception and Maggie gave her a wink, she knew those expectations have to be adjusted. There were ten. One was filled with bears on sticks, rather than flowers; another had some dried flowers (bad idea); a few were plain red roses; the largest bouquet was 2 feet tall and 2 feet wide, with a burst of fragrant lilies spray painted in blue - the card on that one read: "If you were not with me, I'd be as blue as that bastard who is now 15million poorer - HAHA!" Every year, on February 14th, there will be an odd pilgrimage of delivery guys and office dispatch, each one carrying a fanciful bouquet and gradually filling up her office. She usually gave away those flowers to the ladies in the office too, as her Valentine's Day gift to them. "I don't need so many!" she would add, that laughter tinkling down the corridor. As the only unmarried, thirty-something partner in the law firm, she was not the usual lawyer type. She was svelte, blonde and exceedingly pretty. Those advantages were beguiling tools to which she wields with great effect during the famous divorce settlements that she was known for.

Day 149: Nerves

He flicked through my CV as I sat in a half-squirm and barely managed to keep a constipated look on my face. I wasn't that nervous, after all it's not my first job interview, but there was something that made me freak out. I think...I believe, that maybe, he might just be the father of my new girlfriend. That legendary man who apparently built this business from scratch, and is incomparable with any other man in the world. That is, the world according to Annabelle Thompson. So Annie secretly thinks that any man worthy of her attention should be as cool as her dad, but I'm just about to find out how cool or how crazy he can be. "Son, you scored an average of 3.80 on your SATs." He paused for effect, putting down my CV and crossing his arms on his chest. "Do you think that makes you a smart boy, or will you be behaving like an asshole in my firm?" That, I did not expect. I tried to answer, but the lump in my throat was the size of CA and I couldn't fucking speak without stuttering. "Well...sir......I ah....I want you to know that ah.....I'm ah...not gonna be a ....ah...an asshole, because I have ah...a lot of ah...respect for you SAH!" Why in the world did I sounded like a English private officer from the turn of the early 20th century????

Day 148: The FedEx Guy

I saw the sign on the door when I came in, and I couldn't help but asked Camellia about it. "What does that mean? The sign on the door.." I ventured in the topic gingerly. Who knows, maybe someone had recently passed on and she kept the sign there for more than a week. "Oh! That." Camellia smiled as she poured freshly boiled water into the blue and white china teapot, that apparently was a heirloom from her grandmother. She was making tea, and insisted I have a cuppa before I went back to work. I only turned up at her doorstep five minutes ago with a package from her grand-daughter, and while I confess that my ulterior motive was to get to know more about Ashley who is currently at the University of Maryland, my curiosity was piqued by the sign. "It means what it means, dearie. That this too shall pass! It was meant as a joke with my son in law, y'know, Ashley's dad?" I nodded back and smiled, maybe too enthusiastically. "When he married my Lucy, it took me a few years to warm up to him. He was a little new age, and well...a hippie. So the sign was a joke on what I really thought of him, that whatever it may or may not turn out to be, either his marriage or me will 'pass'. We all have our expiry dates, dearie!" With that she chuckled and handed me a steaming hot cup of mint tea.  

Day 147: Nutcase

"If you were to find this temple, what would you do Professor?" a reporter with an Italian accent asked. The silver-haired gentleman in the bush jacket held eye contact with the reporter, and paused for effect, before speaking into the microphone: "Why, I would worship in it." His colleagues seated next to him visibly bristled with mild shock, but held their composure and bit their lips. They have not heard this answer from him before. There was a murmur in the room, and the cameras clicked and flashed away ever furiously. "What do you mean Professor, by worship? Do we even understand the significance of the temple fully? Are you suggesting it could be a new religion?" Everyone held their breathe, but from the corner of the stage, one notices that the Professor's team were smiling. "I'm merely saying, I will worship at it. Whoever else who goes there can choose whether they want to worship at the Shrine of Krathursti. It is through the research that we have gained a better understanding of this 8th century cult, and I have found myself drawn to the ancient texts that will lead us to this hidden temple in Panama. We are very sure that we will find it this year. If a new religion springs up as a result of this expedition, then it is not my creation but a convincing resurrection of an ancient religious movement. It will be the will of Her Holy Goddess Krathursti." Everyone remained in a state of muteness, with the only sound being the incessant clicking cameras and the furious shorthand scribble of the reporters. "Remember to address the Goddess as Her Holy Goddess. We mustn't infuriate her if we are to step into her sacred sanctum," he added  as an afterthought.      

Day 146: Goodbye little girl

Stepping out of the apartment together for the first time, they realized that a fundamental shift has happened. It wasn't because that today's sunny weather was extra bright, or the flowers were more sweet-smelling, or neither was it the fact that there was no dog crap to step on while walking down this cracked pavement of a gentrified BoHo neighbourhood. No, none of that nonsense. It was the mere fact, and they had - in the past twelve hours - shared a bed, and refused to leave it. Oh the joys of the first sexual encounter. The exploration, the shyness melting away and the limbs a little more flexible than your weekly pilates classes. Nothing could come between them both, and nobody could pry them apart. At one point or another, their bodies were always in contact. Call it what you may: a crush, a rebound, a fling, a fuck or even the L word, a lick. Oh yes, so much body, so limited time between the thighs. As cheesy as the John Mayer song sounded, to him and to her, they were each their wonderlands. As they crossed the street together, her hand in his coat pocket, he pulled her in for a quick kiss on her forehead. And there planted, the seeds of ... disillusionment within a perceived relationship. For she would be shipped off to college next week, and it was his last hurrah for a memorable romp before she meets another boy and those multiple first sexual encounters would continue ad infinitum. Till, the one, that is - provided you believed in love stories.  

Day 145: Early Start

*Replacement story for 9 February 

She heard some light tapping sounds, echoing at intervals beside her ears. Something told her that it was Andrew working on his computer, in bed. She turned to her right, and mustered her tired eyes to open, but Andrew's side of the bed was empty. So she turned to her left and looked into the bathroom, but she wasn't sure if he was really in there, even though the door was ajar. She turned on her back while pulling the covers tighter around her neck, and shut her eyes again. There it was "tap, tap, tap, tap....tap, tap." She reached for her phone at the top of her pillow, and checked the time. 4.35 a.m. What the hell is Andrew doing up at 4 in the morning? He just flew in last night from Milan, and they had too much sex that she must have begged him to stop so that she could get some sleep and wake up by 7 a.m. She placed the phone on her bedside table and sat up, listening. "tap,tap............tap,tap,tap...taptaptaptap, tap,tap." She heaved a deep sigh at her boyfriend, and got out of bed. Reaching for his t-shirt on the floor, she put it on, as a temporary cover for her nakedness. She walked towards the study, and peeked in. There he was: sitting in the dark, hunched over in a grotesque pose of computer worship, the screen casting a ghostly light on him. She could see that he was writing, and decided not to disturb him. Tip-toeing back to bed, she thought: what an odd man I have let into my life.