February 23, 2012 @11:56 pm
This story first appeared on my Tumblr.
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Amelie curled up on the floor and cried. She pulled the old teddy bear that was by her leg and clutched it to her chest. Her mother lowered herself onto the floor, and ran her fingers through Amelie’s hair.
Hey puppy, what’s wrong?
I dowan go school.
Why not?
Dowan go. I want Mummy play with me.
If you don’t go to school, your friends will be very sad.
Dowan go. I want Mummy play with me.
Her mother took the little girl’s chin in her hands and gently wiped the tears. She lifted the cherubic face, criss-crossed with streams of tears.
Does Amelie want to play ‘Simon Says’?
Simon says… touch your nose. Amelie touched her nose. Simon says… wipe your nose. Amelie ran to get a piece of tissue, wiped her nose, threw the tissue in the dustbin, and then lay down on the floor. Simon says… cycle your legs in the air! Amelie shrieked with laughter. Mummy legs up too! Simon says Mummy legs up up up! Her mother moaned softly as she cycled her legs in the air, as a dull pain coursed through her back.
Simon says… stop cycling and sit up. Amelie, jump on the sofa! Amelie ran towards the sofa, then screeched to a stop. But Simon din say. Her mother laughed.
Simon says… Mummy loves Amelie! Amelie ran into her mother’s outstretched arms, and nuzzled her face in her mother’s unwashed hair. Her mother stole a glance at the clock. Ten minutes to eight. Perfect.
Simon says… Mummy and Amelie take their bags and go for a walk. Simon says… Mummy and Amelie take the lift downstairs. Simon says… Amelie will go to school today and have lots of fun. Simon says… Amelie will tell Mummy all about school when she comes back.
Amelie pulled back. Amelie must go school? Her mother squat kissed the toddler’s forehead, and hugged her tightly. Simon says Mummy will always love Amelie. Always.
Amelie pushed her away. Always? Always.
Amelie smiled and boarded the school bus. Her mother waved as the bus drove away. A single tiny hand could be seen waving frantically from inside the bus.
Her mother turned, sighing. Firstborn settled. It was now time for her newborn. She wondered how many more times she would have to play Simon Says before normalcy returned.Labels: childhood game
scripted by me
@11:54 pm
This post first appeared on my Tumblr. And yes, I had a mild fascination with the name Emma then. I think I might want to name my daughter Emma, if I ever get married and have kids.
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Emma had a couple of hours before the dinner party tonight.
Everyone was looking forward to Emma’s
sehr gut bread and butter pudding, courtesy of Marie. “Who knows,” she said, “a really cute German guy might fall for you after that pudding!” Emma raised her eyebrows. She knew that Marie was doing this for the British lad who was missing home terribly.
Alright, she would make a lovely pudding because Marie had so generously let her crash in for her month-long holiday.
She looked at the map in her notebook, and decided to spend the day at the farmer’s market.
Brilliant colours competed for her attention as she walked past racks of fruit picked just the day before. Spoken greetings of
Guten tag played off shouts of
Frischer fisch! Frische brot!,creating a wonderful cacophony that sounded sweeter to Emma’s ears than many modern symphonies. Mothers and grandmothers were out in light cotton dresses, their littlest offspring in tow. It was a photographer’s heaven! Emma ran around, trying to capture all the sights before the sun got too bright.
At noon, Emma ducked into a little bakery, and looked around for a young person. Marie said that they were more likely to have studied English. No luck. A middle-aged woman beckoned her over. “
Guten tag Fräulein!”
“
Guten tag Fräu! One baguette please.”
“
Was? Das brot wollen sie?”
Emma tilted her head, her brows frowning slightly.
The woman asked, “
Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
“
Nein. Pommes Deutsche.”
“Ahhh…” The woman pointed at the loaf of bread in front of her. “
Das brot. Zu essen?” She took two pieces, swiped her hand over it, and pretended to eat it. “
Landbrot, sonnenblumenbrot, fünfkornbrot,mit schinken sehr gut.Ich mag bein picknick essen.”
Emma’s eyes widened. The woman was asking her if she was going for a picnic. But Emma had no idea what everything else meant. She decided to try her luck, and pointed at the bread.
“Brot?"
“Ja.”
Emma took out her notebook. She pursed her lips, flipped to an empty page and doodled. She drew a pie dish filled with buttered bread slices. She sprinkled raisins over them. She drew a bowl, into which milk was poured and eggs were whisked. She drew an oven, with the pie dish inside.
The woman’s face lit up. She pointed to the bowl, and said “
Eier? Milch?” Emma pointed at the eggs and clucked. She then pointed at the milk bottle and mooed. The woman laughed, “
Ich weiß! Sie machen Ofenschlupfer.” She took some hard bread rolls and wrapped them. “
Ofenschlupfer, sehr gut. Mmmmm.” Emma chuckled, thanked her and went in search of milk and eggs.
Emma did not have to walk far to find what she wanted. She approached the shopkeeper, mentally preparing herself for another pantomime, “
Guten tag, Herr! Ich einen eiers und milch.”
“Guten tag Fräulein! Wie viele?”
“Sprechen sie Englisch?”
The shopkeeper laughed and called someone from the back of the store. “
Jakob, diese Fräulein spricht Englisch.” A young man emerged. “Hi, my name is Jakob. My Uncle said you speak English? What do you need?”
“Hi Jakob, I’m Emma. Oh good! I think I’ll need two eggs and a bottle of milk. I’m making something like Ofenschlupfer.”
“Ah… For your family?”
“Oh, no no. I’m making them for some friends.”
“I love Ofenschlupfer. My colleague from the Universitat mentioned that they call it bread and butter pudding back in England.”
“Oh, yes! I’m making that tonight. You work in the Universitat?”
“I am sorry, I study there. Maybe there is another word for colleagues?”
“We usually say ‘classmates’ or ‘coursemates’ back home. Perhaps it is different here.”
“Perhaps. Here are your purchases. That will be 3 Franc please.”
“Danke! I hope the pudding turns out well. Guten tag!”
“I am sure it will be delicious. You have a beautiful voice so I think you have a lot of love. Your friends will be able to feel the love in the food you cook. Guten tag, Emma, I hope we meet again!”
Emma blushed and escaped to the anonymity of the streets. All the sights and sounds had tired her. She bought a simple kebab for lunch, and she made her way back to Marie’s apartment.
Marie was already back, stacking piles of magazines and books, and dusting all the furniture. She worked quickly, putting back in place what Hurricane Marie had thrown everywhere. Emma was secretly glad she could just cook – Marie was not synonymous with neat, and Emma only liked dust when it showed the sun’s rays. They finished up with just enough time to freshen up before the guests arrived.
As the guests streamed in, Emma heard at least five different accents. Marie kept on playing with the beads on her necklace and stealing glances in all reflective surfaces, all while talking non-stop to the guests. Emma had to rescue the guests with little snacks, and by asking some to help out with the food. They obliged, and gave each other knowing looks. They too, knew why Marie was behaving out of sorts.
Marie’s British lad, Andrew, finally arrived. He was indeed very charming, as those that attend Eton College usually are. Emma wanted to turn away when Andrew arrived, she was so afraid that she would grin like a Cheshire cat when Marie went into a fluster. But she knew it was rude, and forced herself to keep a poker face.
Instead, Emma blushed. Andrew brought along a good friend, a Swiss-born German. His name was Jakob.
scripted by me
@11:39 pm
This was inspired by the prompt "Write one leaf about scanning bar codes" on WriteOneLeaf. It first appeared on my Tumblr.
Cassie never liked library duty. Oh, she enjoyed being around books, but not doing all the mundane things like scanning barcodes and stamping due-dates on the book receipts.
“Hello Miss Cassie!”
“Oh, hello Emma. Here to borrow some books?”
Emma nodded.
“
The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe… Charlie and the Chocolate Factory… Charlotte’s Web… Island of the Blue Dolphins… Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Good choices!”
“
Have you read these books before, Miss Cassie? Are they any good?”
“
Well, no I haven’t, but I’m sure they are. These books were written by some really good authors. The movies were really good too. I enjoyed all of them.”
“
That’s what everyone says. But good movies have bad books. I wish someone could tell me what the good books are. It is so difficult to find them.”
“
Well, our library has many good ones. Miss Chen is always saying that we have one of the best school libraries around.”
“
Miss Cassie, which are the good books? I don’t think I can finish reading everything in this library, but I want to find the good ones.”
Cassie paused. She had no clue. “Hmmm… I need to look around. Tell you what, look for me once you’re done with these books. I’ll tell you then.”
Emma’s eyes twinkled with glee. “Thank you Miss Cassie!” She gathered her books and skipped out.
Cassie’s face reddened. She couldn’t recommend a book. She, an English teacher who told her students that reading opened worlds. She, who initiated daily mandatory reading periods. She, who once was active at book club meetings. “I need to read,” she muttered.
Cassie selected a book from the library catalogue, opened her literary review notebook, and sat back for a good read.Labels: books, writeoneleaf
scripted by me
@11:37 pm
This was inspired by the prompt "Write one leaf about something you can't ignore" on Writeoneleaf. It first appeared on my Tumblr, The Little Jotter Book.
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Hi Mum, what are you cooking for dinner tonight?
Su-May bit her lip as she read the message. She opened the fridge door and ran her eyes over the different bottles. There was a black bottle with a yellow cap, a string of thick brown sauce gleaming in the yellow fridge light.
Jason must have made Marmite soup last night, Su-May mused. The boy had recently gotten into the habit of making snacks late at night.
He was certainly growing,she chuckled. Soon, he would be taller than his father. Su-May wiped the bottle of Marmite, and saw another bottle right at the back of the fridge. The clear bottle with a green cap held an orange-yellow jam, thick with the pulp and peel of the yuzu fruit. The tangy-sweet mixture would expire in three days.
Three days?! Su-May’s mind whirled. Her grandmother had always taught her not to waste food. She had to find a way to finish using up the yuzu jam. She could not let this bit of citrus goodness go to waste!
Su-May rummaged through the rest of her fridge for inspiration.
Let’s see… I could make a gazpacho salad with yuzu jam in the salad sauce… a beef and onion stir-fry in yuzu sauce… baked fish drizzled with yuzu jam… And the after-dinner drink will be hot yuzu tea. She would also work the citrus jam into the cheesecake that she promised Old Mrs. Jones she would make, and make vanilla yuzu muffins for the children’s Obentos. That should see the last of the jam.
Su-May picked up her phone.
Hey baby, it’s rice and some dishes tonight. A yuzu feast.Labels: writeoneleaf, yuzu
scripted by me
@11:32 pm
This was inspired by the prompt 'Write one leaf in which you describe the shape of a heart' on WriteOneLeaf. It first appeared on my Tumblr.
“Mummy, draw me a heart,” Ethel said. She held out a piece of white paper and a red felt-tip pen, her fingers making many creases in the paper where she was gripping it tightly.
“What must you say?”
“Please, Mummy.”
“Sure, darling.” Her mother drew a shape that looked like a Fuji apple. Full, yet with a certain delicateness aura about it.
“Mummy, that looks like the apple I like to eat. Can I have a skinny heart?” Her mother drew another heart.
“Mummy, this one looks like a dancer! The type that waits for the man to come and sweep her off her feet and looks shy. Can you draw something like the hearts they show on TV?” Her mother sighed and drew yet another heart. Ethel was extremely persistent when she wanted something, and she was not going to stop until she got what she wanted.
“Mummy, now this looks like the momotaro from the book I’m reading! I need to give this heart to my teacher!” Ethel stamped her foot.
“Oh? And why?”
“Because she said so! We need to draw hearts and give them to her, and then she will give them to the children in the hospital who cannot go home and sleep in their beds and play with their toys.”
“Ethel darling, that is a wonderful thing to do. My, my, there are so many ways to draw a heart. I want to draw a nice one. Why don’t you show me what you are thinking of?”
“But Mummy, then I will have to draw, and I CAN’T DRAW.”
“You can write, can’t you? Well, drawing a heart is like writing the letter ‘M’, only you have to make the tops rounded, and join the bottoms. Come on, show me what you are thinking of.”
Ethel furrowed her brows and drew an M. “It isn’t working Mummy.”
“Try a few more times. If you can’t show me what you are thinking of, I won’t know what to draw.”
Ethel picked up the pen, stuck out her tongue in concentration, and started writing-drawing. She drew grass patches, a king’s crown, a fluffy cloud, and a series of squiggles that looked suspiciously like symbols that came straight out of the chapter on Electricity and Circuits.
Finally, Ethel got it. It was a slender symmetrical heart that looked fun and tall. She coloured the shape, and outlined it with a black Sharpie marker.
“Mummy, this is the heart. Can you help me to draw more on a nice piece of paper?” She paused. “Please?”
“Sure. Will you draw with me?”
“No.” Her mother raised her brows.
“But I will write some hearts.” Her mother smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
Labels: heart, writeoneleaf
scripted by me