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Cupboard of Abundance
Every time I went to the grocery store, I would pass by a bungalow that a single middle-aged lady resided. I never saw any man at her house so I just guessed she was single. The walls were covered with vines and I swear the leaves changed colours in October, although we all know the fact that in Malaysia there is no autumn. Some parts of the bungalow were all mossy. The windows were decorated with lacy white curtains and the main door had a large antique lion’s head knob.
One day while passing by, I saw that the lady waved to me and calling out to me to come to her house. I parked my car at the roadside and walked to her.
“How are you?” She asked. “I am fine, thank you. And you?” I asked her back.
“Oh, I am fine too. I am Joan, welcome to my house,” she replied. “I am Amelie,” I introduced myself while following her inside. “I often saw you looked this way, so I thought one day I invite you for coffee,” she continued.
Once inside, my jaw dropped upon seeing the interior of her house; it was contrary to the exterior! The living room looked so modern that it has the main furniture in white while the rest in shades of grey.
“Please sit down, I am going to make us coffee.”
“Let me help you,” I said while following her to the kitchen.
“I have all sorts of Arabica, what variety do you prefer? Just name it, I got it,” she smiled. “Do you have Hawaii’s Kona by any chance?” I asked.
“Sure! Hold on, I will get it from my cupboard,” she opened a door to a storeroom I reckoned, and closed it. She came out five minutes later with a pack of Kona in her hand. “Excellence!” I said astonishingly.
We had our coffee in the living room. I never tasted Kona and after a sip, my eyes rolled. It was the best coffee I ever tasted! We chatted a bit and from her story, I found out that she is an avid traveller. And while chatting, my eyes wandered around the living room. I saw a cupboard full of mini dolls from all around the world. And her furniture was not local, they were all imported. Her walls were decorated with original paintings; two of them I noticed were the works of Wassily Kandinsky and Jan Vermeer. After a while, she got up from her chair and asked me, “do you like some biscotti?”
“Italian ones!” I said jokingly.
“No problem!” she said while giggling.
She went to the storeroom again and a little later came out with a pack of authentic biscotti from Italy; Claudio Biscotti.
We continued talking and I told her about my experience in Tuscany where I worked for a free stay. Joan apparently had done it before and we laughed! Then both of us mentioned, ” Fettunta!” We laughed and Joan got up her chair again and said, “Wait here, I have something for you.” She went to the storeroom again and came back with a real Tuscan bread, some garlic cloves, a bottle of fresh-pressed olive oil, and a small bottle of table salt.
“Wow, you have everything,” I told her while helping myself to the Tuscan bread.
“The whole world is in the cupboard,” she replied with a grin. “Tell me, what is top on your bucket list?”
“Well, Ireland! When I saw the movie ‘PS I Love You’, I straight away fell in love. Been wanting to go there but no opportunity yet,” I explained.
“Ok, close your eyes and hold my hand,” Joan said. I obliged. I heard that she opened a door and closed it. She opened another door and then asked me to open my eyes.
A chill sent shivers down my spine. We were both at Wicklow Mountains, Ireland.
Credit photo: Wicklow Mountains, Wikipedia. This is for Prompt #07: The Cupboard of Abundance, July 2020 writing prompts.
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Metamorphosis
One day, after contemplating for weeks, I decided to climb a rocky mountain. Although I seemed to have the ability to ascend a mountain without difficulty, I was struggling. At every stops that I made, I wipe my sweat and measured it by the bucket. Two buckets of sweat. And then there were tears too; another two buckets. Counted the blood from the bleeding hands and feet from falling several times, the total came up to seven buckets. With ten stops, the big total was seventy buckets. That was the level of my determination to climb the mountain.
So after all the struggles, I finally reached the summit. I was astonished that finally, I got to view the beautiful landscapes with houses that looked so small, cars that looked like insects walking on twigs, fluffy trees with birds flying out of it. While taking in all the beautiful creations of God, I did not realise that a monster was lurking behind the bramble bushes. When I was about to raise my two hands and scream at the top of my lung, the monster pushed me off the ledge and I fell into the ravine. I broke into a thousand pieces. It took me three days to collect all the pieces and glue them all together. I wasn’t the same after that. The cracks changed me.
I walked in the ravine for a while finding my way out. Alone, hungry and thirsty, I hallucinated a lot, I was seeing double. I walked and walked until I fell ill. Right before I fainted, I saw little monsters surrounding me.
When I opened my eyes, the twilight appeared in the sky. The first thing I noticed was the grass that I lay upon. It looked golden when lit by the dawn. The dewdrops seemed like golden pearls ready to roll down the blades of grass and disperse into the earth. I was surrounded by a clowder of cute munchkins with short legs. Each of them carried fish in their mouth to feed me. They accompanied me along my journey out of the ravine. The day that I got out of the ravine, I metamorphosised into a munchkin.
The munchkins taught me everything about life; about taking a path that can lead to food (food means success). They also taught me if we are happy, then that is all the matters. We can climb trees—instead of the mountain—and aim for the insects or birds rather than praises. Work smart rather than work hard because sometimes after all the hard work, the monster will come and huff and puff all your efforts.
So now we are a clowder of munchkins that do whatever each our heart pleases. We poo together, catch fish together, lick dewdrops together, meow and purr together. We even sometimes bundle up together to warm each other as the night falls.
I am thankful that I am a munchkin now. Never ever shall I be a monkey again.
- Prompt #09 for July 2020 Prompts.
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If I Could Tell You – WH Auden
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The Falling Star
My bed is near the window and every night before I go to sleep, I will look out the window, gazing at the stars. One night, a week ago, I saw a falling star. Reading too much of folklores, I made a wish. I know it does not make sense but it was just for the fun of it. Then I went to sleep.
As usual in the morning, I headed to the bathroom to take my shower before making my breakfast. Approaching the bathroom, I heard that the shower was on. Living alone in the house, it raised an alarm. I went back to my room and took a scissor out of the drawer and headed back to the bathroom. I slowly opened the door and was shocked to see there’s a dragon in the bathtub! And it was using my body brush to brush its legpit! And it was a pink dragon!
I screamed from the top of my lung, so did the dragon! I ran back to my room and tried to call the police but I could not get through the line. I then managed to compose myself and tip-toed to the bathroom. The door was ajar and I could see that the bathroom curtain was burning. I quickly went inside and managed to put the fire off after pulling the curtain down and soaked it in the bathtub. I could see the dragon was trembling; a cloud of smoke came out from its nose.
“You silly dragon! You almost burn down my house!” I was angry at the dragon. “I am sorry, it was accidental. I didn’t mean it,” the dragon said apologetically in a hoarse voice. “Please calm down and let me explain,” it added.
So the dragon explained that it fell to earth last night after being booed while performing in a concert in the sky. “It was my 100th rock concert. Last night my voice didn’t come out as I over-practised. I was so frustrated and ashamed and never want to perform again or even go home,” said the dragon.
“Wait, I thought you dragons live in the sea or lake?” I was puzzled of the habitat of dragons.
“Well, yeah, I live in Tasik Chini but last night I went up to the sky to perform to the sky tribe. I am Jemah, by the way. My group is called The Hohograms,” explained the dragon. I introduced myself and we shook hands—I mean hand for me and leg for Jemah.
I did not know what to say further. Everything was quiet. After a few minutes of silence, I said, “it can’t be that bad, right?” Jemah took it to heart and cried a bathtub!
I panicked and ran down to my studio to get a ukulele and went up again and sing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ (Israel Kamakawiwo’ole cover) to Jemah. After singing the second line, I heard a laugh. Jemah asked me to stop and said to me, “your singing was so bad.” And she laughed and laughed and laughed in the bathtub.
I straight away went to Tasik Chini to get Jemah’s parents to come and pick her up.
Photo by Neale LaSalle from Pexels Prompt #6 of July 2020 Prompts.
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The City in the Sky
I never requested for a window seat but almost on every flight, I had the opportunity to sit by the window. I love watching the sky because I get to wave to its inhabitants. I said to myself, one day I will personally meet and greet them. So it happened; one day I jumped out of the plane somewhere in the Swiss Alps.
The jump was great; I fell on big fluffy bear. I saw wind coming out of its mouth and its belly became thinner. “Sorry about that,” I apologised to the bear. “I am Amelie, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh hullo, I am Bearyfluff. Nice to meet you too,” the bear replied. We shook hands and he asked why did I jump out of the plane. “I need fresh air,” I said. “So, Bearyfluff, where are the others?”
“They will appear soon while they get in their best shapes,” Bearyfluff explained. Few minutes after that, a fish came into shape. Then a pointing-hand slowly came into shape. We waited for a few minutes for the rest of the body to appear but minutes became half an hour. The pointing-hand then said, “this is just me, I guess.” Both introduced themselves as Fishimbus and Michelangelo.
“Where do you want to go from here, Amelie?” Bearyfluff said. “Take me to your city,” I said excitingly. Fishimbus said I could ride on its back, so I jumped up and sat on it with my legs on each side of its body. I almost laugh when I saw Michelangelo walked on its fingers. Too cute to handle.
So off we went to the city. Upon reaching the city, I was flabbergasted. The city was full of fluffy buildings and trees. But the thing was, the buildings were not permanent. They would dissipate into thin air every 20 minutes. Bearfluff said that we must do everything as quickly as we can. We must walk fast too. At this point, I remember my trip to Japan. Following the tour guide was tough because she was like the rabbit, I, on the other hand, the tortoise.
Anyway, I said to Bearyfluff, “I need coffee.” Then Bearfluff took me round the round bend to the cafe; Cloud Nine Cafe. We all ordered black coffee and chatted a bit. It was amazing to see Michelangelo drank the coffee; it dipped its index finger into the cup and sucked the coffee in one go. Before my last sip of coffee, the fluffy chair disappeared and I fell onto the fluffy ground. It wasn’t so bad because it felt like I fell on my bed, only fluffier.
After coffee, we strolled about the city. While walking, I asked Bearyfluff, “How come you, Fishimbus and Michelangelo don’t dissipate like others?” Bearyfluff did not have an explanation for that and shrug off its shoulder.
It was getting dark and within a few minutes, all my fluffy friends disappeared slowly. Bearyfluff managed to say his last words to me, “G o o d b y e a n d t a k e c a r e . . . ” in a slow-mo effect and then disappeared. The city vanished too and I was left all alone. Above me, the blue jets, sprite and elves were flying like crazy and together they created bolts of lightning and send down some bolts and made holes on the clouds. I fell off through a hole and was falling down to earth. It was freezing cold; I hugged my own body, closed my eyes and just let it be.
I woke up on the top of one of the snowy mountains of Swiss Alps and thought to myself, “now, how the hell do I get down and find civilisation?”
Swiss Alps from above. 2016. The leg from Dubai to Bologna. *This story is for July 2020 writing prompts from Adah’s blog.
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The Water Nymphs
Two ladies at The Albertina came and said hi to me. They were all wet as if they just came out of the water. Their faces were diabolically beautiful and they had long hair that touched the floor. Their long hair was decorated with some kind of white fluffy algae. Behind them were two long trails of water that ran down their long hair. That’s pretty much all that I can sum about them because if they have a body each, I could describe more.
“Welcome to The Albertina,” both of them greeted me while smiling. “How do you like the museum?” they added.
“It’s great! I am loving the fact that I could see Joan Miró, Marc Chagall, Picasso, Edgar Degas, Paul Cezanne, Albrecht Durer, and many more here! ” I told them excitedly. I had visited a few other museums previously but none of the visitors ever try to make any sort of conversation with me. Well, neither do I but I was glad that at least here people were making effort to start a conversation.
“Das ist lieb! How about we invite you to visit our realm? Are you up to it?” they babel simultaneously. At first, I was reluctant but since I was alone and not rushing anywhere, I guessed I didn’t have any reason not to follow them. I said yes.
We walked; I mean I walked –they floated– until we reached a big frame with a gold-coated wooden border. There was a realm of water inside; gleam and mossy. I went near the frame to get the sense of the height; it was more or less my tall.
“Climb through,” they directed. I climbed after them and immediately soaked in water and once in there, I immediately became like them; I was disembodied. Breathing got easier. My face turned flawlessly pale but my vision became very clear. My thinning hair grew longer and white fluffy algae immediately came swimming towards me and giggled before finding their spots to sleep in-between my hair strands. After a while, they were all over my hair sleeping soundly.
Two men appeared in front of the frame. I startled and froze, so does the two ladies. The men were admiring us three until one of them who looked puzzled questioned my presence there, “aren’t there suppose to be only two nymphs?” The other man nodded and then scratched his head and touched the frame to see if it was real.
Beep! Beep! Beep! The security alarm went off.
The last thing I heard was the sound of marching boots. It subsided as I slowly froze.
Painting: The Water Nymphs (1899) by Gustav Klimt.
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A bookmark named Rain
It was raining that morning. I contemplated whether should I stay in bed or should I just head out for coffee. I opted for the former as rain and I cannot get along very well. I stayed in bed for a little bit more and tried to write in my journal about the visit to a few art museums the day before. But I was all miserable, I could not write anything as the coffee smell lingered about. It was not like the next room occupant was making coffee, it was all in my brain. I cannot do anything without having a coffee first. It is a ritual and I am religious about it.
I got out of bed, put on my jeans, sweater and hooded coat, and walked to Aïda Cafe. In the rain. It had been my go-to cafe since the day I arrived in Vienna. I ordered a black coffee and a croissant and sat by the glass window, looking out to the rain and people walking about doing their thing. Some were running as fast as they could trying to cheat rain, some strolling happily in their colourful wellies with umbrellas on their hands. Some were just like me, all hooded, hands in pocket, and walking without care.
I looked up the sky looking for a sign if the rain might stop anytime soon as I had plans to go to other art museums. I was trailing Klimt’s works and every day was precious to me as I was looking forward to seeing his works up-close; to be mesmerised, to be inspired. But the rain showed no sign of stopping. I sipped my coffee and looked out again, this time, down. There I saw few red maple leaves lying on the ground; their crisp brown leafy body soaked in the rain. A particular leaf caught my attention as I heard it calling out to me.
“Please help me. My petiole is stuck under this chair and it’s hurting me,” I heard the leaf was saying. I raised my hand and showed it the wait sign. I could not talk loudly as people would think I’m crazy. I finished my coffee and croissant quickly and walked out. “Danke Schoen!” I said to the waitress while waving. “Bitte,” she said waving back.
I quickly went to help the leaf. I pulled the chair up and picked up the leaf. “There you are,” I said to it.
“Thank you, you saved me!” it screamed with joy. Almost crying.I wrapped it in the serviette that I got from the cafe, and put it in my pocket carefully so that I would not crumple it. I walked back to the hotel and took it out of my pocket. I wiped it dry and laid it on the table under the table lamp, to let it feel warm. Poor leaf had been in the rain all morning.
“So what’s your name?” I asked the leaf trying to make a conversation. “Should a leaf has a name?” the leaf looked puzzled.
“Well no. Are you a girl or a boy?” I asked some more and I got the same puzzled look. ” I am just a leaf, not a seed,” it said, making some senses into me.
“OK, you’re it. Can I give you a name then?” I asked the leaf. “Sure, you are my saviour!” the leaf said cheerfully.
“I shall name you Aïda, to remind us of where I found you,” I said to the leaf. “Sounds girlish. Anything not so girlish?” the leaf said.
“Well, I can name you Rain. Would that be good?”
“That is awesome, I like it,” the leaf said. “It will always remind me of the hardship that I went through; I was blown away by the wind far from my birth tree, stuck under the chair’s leg, got myself all teary, and then soaked in the rain. You and I, we met during the rain. I like it,” the leaf further explained.
From then on, I call it Rain.
“Rain, I gotta go out and see about a Klimt,” I told Rain. “What about Klimt?” Rain asked. I explained to Rain that I am a fan of Klimt and that it has been my intention to visit as many of Klimt’s works as I can during my 6-day stay in Austria.
“I will introduce you to him soon,” as I left Rain in the room and made my way to Leopold Museum and The Secession. I bought a book entitled Klimt written by Gilles Neret and a few other books. When I went back to the hotel, I showed Rain the book. We read the book together and Rain loved Klimt so much that I let it resides in the book.
“Do you want to live here forever?” I asked Rain. “You haven’t seen other books yet. You will love Schiele too. And perhaps I can introduce you to Kafka, Capote, and the likes of them. I can introduce you the those from my country like Zaen Kasturi, Dina Zaman, SM Zakir, Zainal Rashid, and many others. Would you like that?”
“Bitte. Yes please!” Rain replied.
“And, you will have some friends too from the oak and other maples family but they all have no names, unlike you,” I told Rain about my collection of dry leaves that reside in other books.
“Aha, I see you helped others too. I can’t wait to see them,” Rain said cheerfully.
It has been 9 months that Rain came back home with me. Rain is my best buddy now. We read Klimt just now and I left it on page 52, where the Cottage Garden is. Looking at Cottage Garden makes me happy, and Rain told me that it makes it happy too.
We are alike.
