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Handwritten letters are becoming obsolete so I'm writing this to you now - to make it more personal, more special. I wouldn't dare use texting nor emailing to tell you how much you mean to me. Whenever I write, as words flow from my pen to this paper - a canvas so white, so immaculate, pureness overwhelming that I'm assured my message would reach you - I feel, I know and believe that I could finally touch your heart. I'm in-love with...

The night lamp slowly flickered into life, illuminating the small pathway that led to the small barnyard. Inside, the horses neighed, the chickens clucked, the cows mooed and the goats meeeh-ed in welcome of the night. They acknowledged the presence of the shadow that comes with the spreading of the darkness - invisible and imperceptible to the humans but affecting the animals greatly for they know who was to come.

tilt

He tilted his head and peered from the doorway. His eyes widened when he saw a flying pan coming his way. He had enough time to duck down, hands over his head. Apparently, she's not done yet. Perhaps she wouldn't be done in a long time. But he won't blame her, of course. It had been his fault and he planned to face the consequences of his actions. At least, that's what he planned to do until...

trees

The trees hummed her lullabies of dear old Past to sleep. The greens' arms caressed her bosom, showering her with delicate buds of flowers, like snow drops in a winter morning. When she stirred, their breath soothed her troubled soul, smiling as she settled back to dreamland. The roots beneath her tried to cushion her lithe body, fearing that the contact would break her cream skin.

loft

The loft was in complete darkness when she entered. Musty smell met her nose as she immersed herself in the dark. Slowly, she groped her way along the walls, looking for the light switch. When she found it, she quickly flipped it open, a loud sharp snap echoing across the room. Boxes upon boxes of old photo books, picture frames and antique dolls welcomed her, covered in thick dust which gathered over the years. She wandered around, trying to find that small music box her mother gave her when she turned 5 years old. But instead of a music box, a small glittering comb lying on the window pane caught her attention. It seemed new, no dust at all. And yet, as far as she knew, no one had been up there since her grandmother passed away - 36 years ago.

Her plea was indistinct amidst the overpowering squawking of the crows. Her arms that covered her face were full of scratches, bloodied. The crows were flapping their wings madly, pecking and scratching at her, trying to get her pendant. But she wouldn't give it to them, not even if she died. She tried to call out again, forcing her voice to top the birds' crowing. Her rasped voice came out like garbled nonsense. She knew she would die if this kept on going. She must do something.

moon

The moon looked down at her and smiled. She knew the little girl's secret and she wouldn't dare tell it to anybody. They promised each other that until the right time comes, the moon would keep the secret safe. The little girl waved her small hand at the moon, "Goodbye! Till we meet again!" And she laid down on the forest floor among the hyacinth stalks and shut her eyes. The moon eyed her for the last time before slowly descending her throne.

He was overjoyed when he heard the news. He took the baby from its carriage and swung her around, his calloused hands holding her lithe body. The baby woke up and seeing that she was being lifted, like an airplane or a feather or a bird... - she cried. In the arms of a stranger, she felt unsafe, doubt and fear clouding her. She screamed her heart out, wanting to get down. But he wouldn't let her. OKAY ANG LABO.

mist

The cold mist surrounded them, the chill permeating in their clothes. She took his arm and squeezed it, not wanting to let go. She burrowed her head on his chest. A few moments later, he looked down at her and without warning, brusquely shrugged his arm away from her. She glanced at him with wide-eyed surprise. He barked at her, "Who are you? What am i doing here?" She gasped and felt tears well in her eyes. Suddenly, trails of memories flashed before her eyes. She's slowly losing them. Something's taking them away from her.

The orange painted skies overhead was slowly turning into blue, casting shadows upon shadows on the snow-laden ground. Skeleton-like branches waved in the wind, the chilly air sending goosebumps up her arms. But she didn't notice it. She was transfixed on the sight before her. Her gaze locked on the small girl sitting on the bar, blood running down her swinging legs. The kid was smiling at her but her smile didn't reach her eyes. Marks of teardrops stood out from her pale face.

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writing since 2010 · 12 entries · 11 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means apple showed up.

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on this day 16 years ago

apple wrote about overhead
“The orange painted skies overhead was slowly turning into blue, casting shadows upon shadows on the snow-laden ground. Skeleton-like branches waved in the wind, the chilly air sending goosebumps up h…”

the words apple reaches for

eyesslowlyeyedtrainfaceheadarmsmoonstoodwidelegsloudcominglookingpastfar