chanpheng
She stared at him, trying not cry. And he stared back at her, across the chasm of their misunderstanding. "Why don't you say something?" she asked, her voice croaking. "We can correct this." "There's nothing to say," he replied. "I'm leaving."
At the end of the day, when the work was done, was the sense of satisfaction of seeing that things had changed, if only a little bit. The plants had been transplanted and moved around the front yard to try out another arrangement, noting that this type like the sun better and the other type preferred the shade.
The calmness of the monks always impresses me, when they walk barefoot over the roads, receiving almost from villagers. It's like they feel benevolence towards the world, and maybe forbearance on the craziness of the traffic and noise.
This was what she had always wanted. This house, with the windows looking out over the landscape of the tundra and the forest, where she could see the animals walking on migration. But she didn't want to migrate any more. She felt such fulfillment to be in one place and look out at the world around her.
The table was so full, that we had to move around the plates to accommodate one more plate of grilled chicken. The sticky rice basket had to be moved to the floor. We kept our beer glasses in our hands, to make room for the abundance of the meal with so many vegetables and meats.
The early morning light was just starting to filter through the windows. I had been awake for a few hours, as I wanted to savor this alone time, before people wake up, start to make demands on my time.
the alternative to living alone was to live with other people. But that was proving to be the problem. She woke to kitchens filled with dirty dishes, none of them a result of her cooking. But she didn't have the money to move out, so she didn't confront anyone, but kept her room clean and her mouth shut. Until the day that one of her roommates found a dead rat in the kitchen sink.
The liberation of the country was marked with many celebrations, of dancing in the streets and the feeling that there would be no more war. However, when the opposing side came into the city in their tanks, and their soldiers looked at the celebrating people as fools, the parties stopped and people began to fear.
The speed was faster than he usually traveled. But he was late and couldn't slow down or he would miss seeing her. He had just met her and was sure she would leave the restaurant if he didn't come on time. But a cat crossed the road in front of him and he slammed on the brakes; the motorcycle flew one way across the road and the momentum carried him, flying, into a tree. He heard the people talking and the sound of an ambulance and thought, she will never wait for him now.
The jubilation he felt when he heard that music, he just couldn't describe. It filled his heart, he could feel it in his chest. It was better than the best food he had tasted. He thought it was better than love. Or was it love that he was feeling? He couldn't decide as he turned towards his girlfriend, to gauge what he thought of her, and saw she was frowning.
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