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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
8 comments:
The smell of fried rice, kimchi, egg roll, and seaweed soup always filled the air of our classroom, and even to hallway, it was a lunch time. . .
“Hey, move your head to see hers!” as she walked towards to our desks. Everyone is busy unlocking their lunch boxes’ latches, but not her. She always “attacked” a well-prepared lunches among other girls, and it was always my turn.
Other girls hated that, including me; when a brave girl asked her why, and all she said was, “That’s a fun of lunchtime, and besides you possibly can’t eat all that, and if you go home with so much leftovers, your mom won’t be happy. . .” with open mouthed—full of foods inside, and dripping the food.
One day, we decided to teach her a lesson that she will never forget. As always, she moved her seat with her chopsticks, and moving towards us. We all knew the plan. The plan was that I pour a stale spray to my egg roll, and she ran off. I pour the stalest spray to my egg roll, and waited her to bite. It was like waiting a lion to trap, and it almost worked. When she was about to bite, someone called her name, and put the egg roll to my fried rice. While I was talking to my friends, I ate the egg roll!
Words:232.
The first sound I heard this morning was the trickle in the downspout outside my window. Rain masked the sounds of Vancouver waking up. I stretched, propped my hands behind my head and waited for the heat to come on. —40 words; November, 2008 draft
Revised March 30, 2009:
The first sound he heard was the rattle of water in the downspout outside his window. Rain, rain again he thought to himself. And cold, too! He stretched himself luxuriously under sheets smelling of outside and the sun and waited for the heat to come on.
Beside the window, the heat took a long time to heat his body. He dozed again and woke with a start. The light of early spring flooded into his room. He rolled off the bed in one easy motion, planting his feet onto the carpet and padding off to the bathroom.
Bed hair, he decided. And he needed a shave, but first the bath and the morning paper. Outside, it rained harder. He heard the neighbour’s downspout flooding over and the hard splashing sounds from the garbage can lid under the window.
Better than the dull thump of pop music from the teenagers next door. “Our turn,” he liked to say now that his children had grown up and left home. “The least we can do given what they went through!”
The thought made him cringe, but he was nostalgic for those times. Such a bunch of sullen energy he’d never quite experienced that way ever before. Being a kid is one thing, but raising one quite another.
—214 words; second draft (perhaps a story begins here? This is exposition, mostly, and characterization, of course.)
Keep away from the crow
In Chinese culture, crow is a kind of inauspicious bird. We don’t like its image and its sound, and we all hate them as rascals.
In social life, we call the men who prefer to the gossip talk and sow discord as the “crow beak”. In the past, people called the officers who worked in the procurator organ and framed others were “the crows”.
In the literature, the crow is the symbol of dark mind, greedy, dirty and cruel as a vulture. It is also the code of meaning harsh, cold, depression, the ending of a day, and an ill omen. In the paradigm, as soon as we see the word crow it is surely to cause the associate with those negative things immediately. And that makes us feel the heart shrink.
The “Crow Terrace” was the nickname of the “Cypress Terrace” of the imperial prison of Son dynasty. There were many cypresses in the yard, and lots crow nests on the trees. In the history book, people would rather call this hatred prison as the “Crow Terrace” than its formal name. The famous poet Su Tung-po, people loved him very much, was restrained there for five years. The poet was not only framed by “the crows”, but also suffered the cawing every day.
For a common farmer family, crows nested on the tree in their yard are “the trouble at elbow and armpit.” Besides cawing and dropping on the wall and roof, they rummage your yard. More than that, Chinese believe that they will bring some unluckiness to your family. So, they will demolish the nest and shoot the birds away with slingshots.
The common saying “all crows are black!” is absolutely negative in Chinese, for it has the same meaning of the “evil people are bad all over the world.” This old saying already passed on over thousands years. The irrefutable fact is that the Chinese are used to regard the word crow as a pronoun of dirty, squalid and sordid.
I don’t know the deep reason in secret of their mind; I just suppose the reason of those black birds were to be disgusted could be caused by their figure, colour, sound, and their behaviors—none makes them seem to be noble.
Words: 374
Tomorrow
June 2007, the heating waves flooded into the whole Beijing. Yuling Li found summers came earlier and earlier and became hotter and hotter each year. 3 PM when she stepped out of her bus, her uniform was soaked with sweats immediately. She was a conductor of the same bus company for twenty years. She witnessed the progress and development of the transportation system in Beijing along with the city. Before there were air conditioned buses available, summers were disasters for them. She didn't remember how many times she fainted in the buses because of calenture.
It took fifteen minutes to ride bicycle from work to her home. Her thoughts roamed randomly, but she was interrupted once she saw her daughter laid on her knees at the entrance of their community. Her heart was sunk into bottom of the vinegar bottle. Her sixteen-year-old daughter, Lily, was knocking her head on the ground and grumbling something. Yuling leaped off the bicycle and rushed to Lily. She held up Lily’s shoulder and looked at her. Lily’s face was full of tears and mud. Her forehead was swollen and reddened; her eyes were looking empty.
“Please don’t do it! Please don’t do it. . . .” That was the only thing Lily could say.
“My dear, what happened? Why you are here? Did you come out with Tiger? Where is Tiger? Lily, look at me, tell mom what’ve happened?” Yuling used her soft voice trying to sooth Lily.
“Tiger? No! Please don’t do it! Please. . . .” Lily noticed the name tiger and abruptly started kowtowing again.
Tiger was a four-year-old golden retriever dog, the only friend and partner Lily had after the accident. Yuling realised something wrong with the dog since Lily would never left Tiger alone at home. She griped Lily’s hand and pulled her up. “Honey, it’s okay, maybe Tiger is waiting you at home. Let’s go.”
Lily looked at Yuling finally with her lost eyes and nodded. Just besides the street, Old Wang, a very talkative northeaster who had been selling newspapers in their community for years was waving, obviously knew something. Yuling asked Lily, “Would you please hold mom’s bicycle for a while since mom needs to buy some newspaper for your daddy. Then we’ll go home.”
“But I want Tiger. . . .”
“Yeah, I know, I know it, honey, just a sec.”
Old Wang jumped on his tip toes, “Thanks god you are here now. I wanted to call you but I didn’t know your number. I tied to stop her, but she just didn't listen to me. Poor girl! Such a bad day you know. . . .”
“Thanks, Old Wang,” Yuling had to interrupt him. She personally didn’t know this sissy man much, “Do you what happened? Tiger, our dog?”
“Oh, your dog! Of course, your dog! Look at me.” Old Wang patted his head exaggeratingly, “your dog was taken by two cops.”
“What? Why?”
“Why? Aren’t you acknowledged that the oversized dogs are forbidden to keep inside the city?”
“I know, but nobody really cares. I mean there are so many people here keeping big dogs.”
Old Wang shook his head, “Not now. Think about the timing. It’s only one year to Olympic Game. They are serious this time. They are afraid big gods might bite or frighten foreign visitors. . . .”
“But our Tiger never bites, and we injects him vaccine every year.”
“Of course Tiger never bites. I never feel big dogs are more aggressive than the small ones. Your Tiger’s lovely. I saw him. But now, you see, everybody walks their big dogs in night time only. Somebody even sent their big dogs to countryside. I heard that they’re gonna to check door to door. And they encourage the neighbourhood to mudsling the oversized dog keepers.”
“Oh my god, that’s insane. But we have licence for urban keepers, so expensive you know. We pay them every year.”
“What mentioned on your licence about the size?”
“Small. . . . ” Yuling’s face darkened with frustration, “You know Tiger is everything Lily has. It’ll kill her.” She shook her hand to remove the terrifying picture.
“Go and beg the cops. They looked familiar. I think they are just from the Front Street Policy Station. If you know anybody there? Ask your husband to do it. You know. . .” Old Wang twiddled his thumb and index finger, making a gesture of counting money.
“Ohh, I don't think Danian can do it. But thank you, anyway, I’d have to go,” Yuling frowned and scurried back to Lily.
As soon as they reached home, Lily went to the kennel immediately. “Tiger, I’m back, come here! Tiger, where are you?” she yelled fruitlessly in the bed room, kitchen, and washroom and finally realized her dog wasn’t here.
Once again Yuling found the lights disappearing from her daughter’s eyes. Lily kneed down besides the kennel like her soul sneaked out of her body. She was kowtowing and grumbling, “Please, please don’t do it.”
“No, no, no, honey, you cannot do that.” Yuling held Lily in her arms with all her strength repeated her name—just tired to wake her up. It was all came back like four years ago when Yuling and Danian first saw her in the hospital after the accident. Lily did the exactly same thing. She kept begging, kowtowing. Nothing could draw Lily’s attention like the whole world was not bothering her anymore. Lily’s old problem was volcanic. Since last four years, Yuling and her husband tired all their best to protect their fragile daughter after that accident. Lily was improved a lot especially after being advised by authoritative psychologist to have keep Tiger. She could laugh again once she stoked Tiger and they could play together. The pink shade came back to her cheek by walking Tiger everyday. Except she was more quite than ordinary girls and didn’t go to school, both Yuling and her husband felt she was perfectly normal. Tiger was such a great pet. Yuling and Danian—her husband loved tiger too devotedly. The dog’s food cost almost one thousand Yuan every month—it’s her half salary—not including the dog’s license and vaccines. She didn’t care. As long as she could see the smile on Lily’s face. It’s all worthy. But now, all there symptoms came back like the nightmares haunting her for all those years.
“I have to do something, or I’d rather die with her like this. Yuling gnashed her teeth. Like every populace, Yuling didn’t have much experiences of dealing with cops, so did her husband—Danian Zhang. They belonged to the historical native class Beijingers—not the arrogant ones -- without any economic and political background. They were chicken, humble and obedience.
Danian Zhang was a high school teacher, never talked loudly even to his students. He was short and yellow, looked much older than his real age. Once he smiled, the crinkles showed on the corner of his eyes like being carved permanently. His hair turned gray even faster after Lily’s accident. Himself, became even shorter and yellower too.
Yuling looked her watch, it was almost four thirty pm. Danian must on his way home already. It made her calmed down a little. She grabbed a cushion and padded it to where Lily’s head hit; cleaned Lily’s face with a hot towel and poured a glass of water for herself. The icy water soothed Yuling more. She fed Lily some and then pulled the electronic fan close to Lily. The front door opened and Danian reached home.
“Lily, Tiger, daddy is home.” Yuling burst into bears finally when she heard the happy voice of her husband rose in the lobby. She covered her mouth with the towel and wailed.
Danian found out the situation soon enough. He lit a cigarette and sighed. He had plenty of time reading newspapers in his office, so he knew once the dogs being sent to the camp, they would be executed only. Tiger—such a docile and understanding animal, he couldn’t imagine and the result. He looked at his daughter and Yuling, for the very first time, he made up his mind so quickly: he had to get the dog back or his home is ruined. He couldn't let it happen.
It was almost five pm, and hopefully he could still catch the cop and bribe him before he leave. There was just no time for him to over-think.
“How much cash do you have?” he asked Yuling.
“About Five hundreds Yuan, why?”
“Just give them to me, hurry. And I have five hundreds too.”
“Are you really bribing them?”
“Do you have better options?” Danian’s face stoned, almost brutal. He snatched her cash and left home.
1462words
First Awareness of Death
“How about you stay here for the dinner?” my grandma said.
“No, I promised my mom to go back dinner” I am on my way to the door.
“Ok, come next Sunday; tell your mom you will be staying for the dinner”
“Ok, I will, see you next week” I answered when I am on my way out.
The next Sunday, I grandmother died, she had a sudden stroke causing massive bleeding in her brain, Sunday morning, she was discovered on the floor after my uncle came back from night shift work. She never got the chance to say good bye to anyone and pass away in the hospital.
When all of us arrived at hospital, I saw my mother was wiping my grandma’s body with a towel. She gave me the towel and asked me to rinse it at washroom. I hold the towel in my hand - that was cold with stains of blood. That was it? - Death.
At age of seven, I never realized people will die one day. I remembered all the happy moment I had been with her - her warm arm wrapping around me tightly at the chilly cold night - her kind voice and happy face. Sadness flooded my heart, following a deep sense of helplessness. There is nothing you can do to wake her up, she has left us forever. I cried desperately during the funeral because I just can’t let her go.
Death! A whole new word to me; why is that; any happy moment of your life will finally meet an end; what can I do? I kept on going back to my grandmother’s place, but she was no longer there.
286 words
(the last paragraph--revised)
I don’t know when this began and which way it came from--a way of logical thinking or superstition?—it’s still a secret for the most of Chinese, but it is a tradition. I just suppose the reason of those black birds were to be disgusted could be caused by their figure, colour, sound, and their behaviors—none makes them seem to be noble.
Music I Like: How does it feel,
To be on your own?
Like a complete unknown.
Like a rolling stone.
This is an excerpt from Bob Dylan’s hit song- Like a Rolling Stone. I was in grade school when I first heard it, and I had no idea what the song meant- I was suppose to be listening to Disney songs- but the acoustic guitar strumming along with Dylan’s grungy and off-tune voice immediately captured my ears.
I remember my Uncle-a part-time College student and a full-time activist- taught me songs about “Peace, Love and Understanding”. Later on I found that it was actually a title of an Elvis Costello song. He told me how music and lyrics had huge impact to his life. He introduced to me artists such as Cat Stevens, John Lennon, Nick Drake, Van the Man, Marley etc. That is why sometimes I feel I was born in a wrong generation- I love old and undying music, with lyrics that will make you think, rhymes that will make you hum and beats that will make you stump your feet.
When I feel down and the day is gloomy, I’d play my Van Morrison record and sing “There’d be days like this” . Then all of a sudden, as if Morrison put a spell on me, I start feeling better. Bob Marley’s reggae brings joy to my mornings. “ Everything is ‘gonna be alright,” he’d sing with his cozy voice together with his band’s hyped bass-lines and drums- I start dancing, though I know I’m not good at it . Every time I miss my father- he died couple of years ago- I’d listen to Cat Steven’s “Father and Son” and that surely brings back my father’s memories. There are certain songs that reflects my life like mirror. It is like reading my story in the song lyrics or hearing the soundtrack of my everyday journey.
Now, I know what “Like a Rolling Stone” means. The song changed my way of looking at them. We do not know why other keeps on rolling and what keeps them rolling, who are we to judge.. One day you’re on the top and the next day you find yourself face-down on the ground, with nothing to offer. There are time you even lose your pride and dignity, but still, who are we to judge. We don’t live with their shoes on our feet so we basically wouldn’t know how it feels to be like them- like a Rolling Stone.
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