Fire in the Sky

Behind you, he said.

And for those brief minutes they sat in silence and watched the sky as it flickered, then flared to life, and faded into darkness.

It won't do it justice, she said as he drew his cameraphone from his pocket.

And sitting there across from her he knew she was right; some things simply cannot be captured on film; some things are best preserved in memory. Some memories will always be special come what may, that he was here with her under this blood red sky at all, and that through the span of that evening as she sparkled he drank, and drowned.

Harry Scary and the Goblet of Fairy

So re-minisce decides it's a lazy saturday afternoon, the shop floor's nearly empty, time for a nap...

... so the powers that be decide to admit the uber-man in white himself.

Whimper.

I like my head unbroken.

whimper.

*****
"Oh dear drinks might not be advisable but let me know if you need dinner delivered"

"You know i'd say yes just to get a chance to get foo... a chance to see you again."

Silver lining, or lightning? :)

Moment

"...the reason I'm crippled around you is because as long as you're talking and animating yourself with those eyes and being you, I just want to sit here and listen to you and watch your eyes, and I can't to do anything that might jeapordize the moment...

.... so shut up..."

and then he kissed her.

Whatever

Loving someone is never a mistake, if nothing else because it gives you a chance to learn something about yourself.

The only time you can truly regret having loved someone, truly regret having been involved with someone is if you learnt nothing, or if you lost more than you gained.

I've only regretted one relationship in my past, and it was a rebound thingie to some woman i remember as a nutjob. I don't regret my last relationship with you, I don't regret the sadness that I endured, for you.

If you want to live with the truth, then create truths you can live with.
The photos are out of my wallet now, as are the namecards.

But I won't ever forget, or regret the afternoon you offered me company, on my way to delifrance. I have good memories of us, and you.

Thanks for all the memories, and have a great life.

Irresistable attraction. To floor.

So I started the day by doing the usual effortless flop into chair routine and wound up on the ward floor on my back, with nurses making a beeline towards the source of the loud thump, only to walk away disgusted on discovering it wasn't a felled patient.

I do not. Fall. Over.

*****
LadyGrey : so I am your bad balance bear now?

mutter.

The Question

I misunderstood her then, and assumed she was speaking in terms of mice and men, much the way S, J's friend said it in her oxymoronic hot-mama cool-chick hongkong-triad motherly fashion (it's a stretch of imagination, but still workable, really...) - waah a doctor and a .... hen pei.
But I don't think that way; I just see people.

In hindsight I realise that I hadn't told Sara yet what she did...

Sara : ...So what does it feel like... to date an equal?

I think I understand her question now; not a question of worth and measures at all.

*****
"You have remarkable eyes" he says, looking away before he can catch himself.

What the hell?!
We know how it's done, we've never had trouble before : you look the girl square in the eye and you smile a little; it's that easy. It's an act, easy peasy. And what's a bit of play acting..

... remarkable? Graah.

What was that??

*****
And then the curtain falls -

"when i asked you if you were on the rebound, you said it had been 3 months...
but you see, i don't think i was necessarily referring to your last relationship..."

Not a seer?
With X-ray vision like that?.

graah.

Paralyzed

At some point during dinner while they're leaning in just a tad too close to each other as they speak, and his eyes are searching hers while they laugh, he realises why it's so... difficult... around her, and perhaps why it was so difficult back at fifteen as well.

As long as she's animating herself with those eyes, assaulting him with that wit... there is nothing he wants more, right then and there, than to just watch, and listen.

Hmm perhaps a blindfold might come in handy.

****
A girl who has dreams about saving the world, and dying.

How could anyone possibly resist that?

Fifteen

She's struggling with the cap on her illicit ta-paod coffee martini in a perrier bottle; he offers to help and reaches through the metal bars of the gate. Their fingers touch and remain in contact as he loosens the not-terribly-tight bottlecap.

Hands withdraw and he smiles a goodbye as he backpeddles, laughing silently in his head; the few words exchanged between two habitual wordsmiths simple, honest and spontaneous.

*****
"I forgot to tell you this last night but sometimes you make me feel like I am 15 again."

"Just great, we have a mutually retarding effect on each other. So much for all that university education eh?"

Unexpected

the measure of a woman

*****
"Unexpected like being mowed down by a three tonner while crossing a quiet residential street?"

Almost frightening, how he knew what the message would read, virtually word for word the second his phone chimed.

Different

(nervously) "I've been meaning to tell you for a while now... that you have very intelligent eyes. Just that it's kinda difficult to slip surreptitiously into everyday conversation...."

*****
Remembered from the past:
"You have pretty eyes..."
"Crazy eyes, crazy eyes!"
"I like your eyes..."

*****
(left unspoken)

Perhaps not the most flattering of compliments, but not so much a compliment as a simple statement of fact.
Pretty eyes... attractive eyes... engaging, expressive eyes that talk, and laugh when she's making others around her laugh, or running you into the ground - all true, but also completely missing the point, failing to capture the quintessential :

Quick, watchful eyes that miss little, (except walls, floors and other mundane physical barriers to gravity) eyes that dance with life, and bubble with mirth.

*****
Grappling to search out elusive words, that simply fail to do justice or refuse to be choked out when clearly conceptualized, regardless of effort.

Different.

*****
She : "How do you know you're not going through a rebound?"

He : "Well, it's been three months..."

She : "That's not very long at all."

He (with a smile) : "I've been through it before, I remember what it was like. I'm not."

Unspoken :
I remember the killing blow, delivered over the telephone as I forced it out of her -because the truth is so, so important.

I remember walking through the garden as she spoke, hands brushing the wetness on the leaves of the bougainvilleas, and looking up at the sky, and that full, full moon, and the sparse stars peppering the black canvas of the sky. I remember knowing in advance what was coming, that innate clairvoyance finally kicking in as I heard her speak, and heard instead everything Sara had been telling me about who she would turn out to be.

I remember bewilderment - the I love yous that still appeared on my phone mere days before; and suddenly there it was, the other guy who was always around her, the guy who irritated her for his childishness, the guy who angered her for trying to take liberties with her although she was with someone else.... there it was, we have to break up because he just tried to kiss me, and I did.

And then there was more, a single event turned into weeks, and perhaps months.

I remember walking dazed through life, almost as if the air around me had turned to treacle; hearing words pass me by, hands moving mechanically as i cleaned and draped, or closed wounds; my head an unending chorus of unanswerable questions. I remember how hard it was to relax, how tense, like a coiled spring about to explode I was.

I remember pervasive sadness, and above all that overwhelming sense of betrayal; and then a moment's madness - meeting another woman who sounded like her; someone to take away my sadness with something... familiar. I remember trying to tell myself I knew myself, I remember watching myself in mind's eye as we stood against the car and I looked at her without really seeing her. I remember everything happening too quickly, in accelerated time, that treacley feeling still all around me; awareness not quite regained; and then I remember when awareness returned and I found myself really looking at her, listening to her, and feeling trapped, unhappy, and wondering what the hell just happened...

I don't remember ever wondering if I would feel sadness as we parted, and I Remember the sweet, sweet relief that came at the end, even as she slapped me very deliberately, once to the left, and once to the right, and I raised my eyebrows in return and perhaps smiled in incredulity.

*****
And then I remember us unhappening; things were different. We both expected to feel relief - it wasn't something unexpected that happened overnight, rather something in the making for several months, something I'd tried to subtly and not so subtly shake you out of and failed repeatedly at; and when the moment came and passed there was no relief for either of us but only sadness.

I didn't become depersonalized and the world didn't slide by in bullet time; everything was real, and I didn't want the words in my head, didn't want to remember and hurt.

My salvation wasn't in the bottom of a glass, or in the eyes of a woman who reminded me of her; it began the night J introduced me to K; it began the night MM linked arms with me and we upended our champagne glasses an laughed.

It began with laughter, and friendship.

And it was so, so easy to relax, and to smile as K introduced me to his clutch of gorgeous handmaidens and I met eyes with them and laughed.

I didn't stop to hurt because I don't want to; I don't need to.

I need to laugh, and live for the moment - not for the past.

Intimidating

...you intimidate me, he says.

That's the second time this week that's happened, she says, looking puzzled.

Really? What did the other guy say? he asks with a smile.

*****
They're walking down the waterfront and then a little further along, past a memorial that has always been just a place to walk past, and past empty spaces that have never been anything more than space-fillers, shoulders lightly brushing each others', bumping hands from time to time. He's stunned to find himself struggling with words again, eloquence having fled him like a terrified puppy with its tail firmly between its hindlegs.

"You know how it is when you're fifteen, and you've met this amazing girl, and everything's really important and charged with significance, and everything's so hard to do and say... and then you get older, and it gets easier, and it's something you learn how to do, to pick up on signals and act on them, and you feel like you have nothing really left to lose, and so it's easy... ...What I'm trying to say is that... you make me feel fifteen again..." (!) (Ugh. What the hell, that's was so not what I was trying to say...)

A blank look. Errr... No?

Choke. Sputter. "No what I really mean is that I'm not in control when you're around." (Groan. Me stalker, me like porn! ...just kill me now, before I embarrass myself any further...)

*****
Several hours later, the play by play replay, in a different setting. Alcohol-fortified and by the light of the stars (and bar).

"Why I find you intimidating...

...... it's not that I can't read the signs, God knows I'm too old for that... and I'm most assuredly not gay... it's just...
..... I'm just not used to being at some restaurant with a girl watching her as she ... shines, and feeling this ridiculous urge in the absence of any signals, in full view of the public to want to...

... reach out"

he smiles a little, his eyes never leaving hers as his hand rises and lightly touches the curve of her face; she turns her head a little, into his palm and there's a trace of a smile on her lips. The she says oh! as he says : do you understand now, why you intimidate me?

And then the door opens and the men in black disembark, and the moment passes.

Animal Farm

Gotta love that Sheep of Doom and Tiger of Tidings

But what do I do with all these Rabbits of Wrath?

Broadside

Broadsided : Getting run down by a galleon under full sail while paddling in the shallows.

*****
... and as they ate, she sparkled - her eyes, her wit, her soul. And he was charmed, and seized by an inexplicable urge - sans signals, and inappropriate as it was - to just reach out and touch her brow. But instead, he smiled, and they laughed.

Avenue Q, take two

"I'm glad I met you."

And then the words dry up.

*****
Me give you... ten million dollars!

In volatile market, only stable investment is pornnnn!

If you were gay, I'd shout Hurray! ....

The internet is for porn... The internet is for porn... Why you think the net was born, porn, porn porn!

*****
Jst as enjoyable second time round as first; although Sasky would probably quibble about the precise details.

Oh yes, to anyone watching Ave Q from the Boxes : warning, beware of head injury. Hold onto handrail at all times. You may experience some... turbulence.

****
An unconscious, gradual, imperceptible sideways lean-in only realised with a certain startlement when their shoulders touched and remained in contact; a compelling desire to make and hold eye contact, to watch, to speak, to hear.

Significant, or insignificant. Does it matter?
Everything in life is only for now.

*****
I am the walrus,
fat bottomed girls,
yellow submarine...

this is not a mix-tape, it's... round.

Left unspoken : It's good to have met you, too.

Sound of Music

Remi-mum (creeps up on re-minisce while he's sprawled on the floor repairing the New Guy's laptop), from behind : I think you should get a girlfriend who plays the piano.

re-mi : gah?

remi-mum : you know, an insider. Not an outsider.

re-mi : I have NO IDEA what you're talking about

remi-mum : you know our family name is...

re-mi : yes you've told me before, court musician, blahblah. What does playing the piano have to do with a girlfriend! And I'm not a pianist! And you're not a pianist, you're a lawyer!

remi-mum (drawing herself up) : Excuse me, I'm a housewife!

re-mi : ......

*****
sometimes I worry for my mother.

Treading the line

"So why do you like to run?"

"I can zone out."

Perhaps that's just the way runners are. Perhaps it's nothing special, just something... in common.

I tell people I like to run because it gives me a buzz at the end of it.
But it's not always true. Most of the time I don't, especially when I've been out of it for a while.

The reason I like to run is the same reason I used to wander down the bank of the Thames in the evenings, all those years ago in the immediate aftermath of Her.

It helps me to not-think, for a while.

*****
Listening to some irritating random chick tell me the other day that I needed to take time to grieve (you think you know me? I feel like hacking your head off with my sabre, organic lemon my foot!)...

I told her No.

I do not NEED to take time to grieve.

I NEED to drink, after the ridiculous nightmare that work has become. I NEED to laugh. I NEED to RUN.

So why don't you take that lemon and stick it somewhere... organic.

*****
So this is what happens when you grieve.

The day comes and goes, and is forgotten.
Except something in the back of your mind lingers, and then sadness creeps in like a cat out from the cold, from the lower centers into conscious thought.

It doesn't go away. It doesn't get better with time.
The bewilderment, the... bad feelings.
The memories of how things were exhilarating, so exciting once, the thrill of discovery, of unexpectedness. The familiar sensation of contentment that accompanied us dying in bed in the afternoons. The contentment and...ease I felt, between us. The willingness to experience your world, and the forlorn wish that you would share that same willingness, for me to share mine with you.

The inability to reconcile the growing knowledge of what I must have been becoming to you. How un-special I must be, for you to... play that game. How little I must mean to you; unable to reconcile all this with the words and the actions you showed to my face, the I love yous, which were gradually dwindling, but still being spoken. Unable to reconcile the person I had fallen for, with the person who was falling down into darkness without her even realising it.

Self-doubt. Doubt in you. Doubt in us.

This is what happens when I grieve, alone in my car en route to the gym, eyes blurring as a dark tide rises.

This is where I stand now, on a fine line - where I knew I would be, one day, and where I struggled against you to try to prevent us reaching.

I just wanted to die in your arms.
I didn't want for this : to be surrounded by women attractive to me, and reaching this line, just beyond that last of the bridges linking us, if only a feeble email, as it burns away into faded obscurity.

I wanted us to be happy, again. A simple, futile wish; it takes two hands to clap.

All I NEED now is to run. And run, and run till my lungs are bursting, and my mind is... empty.

So, so bad.

And after that, to laugh, and then to drink.

*****
Just over two months; sometimes I still feel you in the car by me, sometimes I remember the stupid dances you did in the car to the radio, and it feels like only yesterday, and I could just reach out and touch you again, or drive home to you, away from the nightmare.

Sometimes it feels like something from another lifetime; something that was the nightmare, something to let slip into the realms of the forgotten. A forgotten story of not heroes and not villains, just two good people who werent good to each other. Something... unspecial.

*****
Watching Lady Grey's eyes laugh as she befuddles a stranger who is asking her about her chinese horoscopic sign.

I'm a phoenix! The prospective stranger does a double take. Well, okay... just a chicken.

Laugh.

Yes, the phoenix. Rising, from the ashes. The Lady... Grey.

*****
"I almost wish I did sweet nothings, but that's just not my style."

"Don't worry, you're not doing too badly."

Slightly cheesy, but kinda nice lines for a screenplay. Laugh. Must get back to writing that story someday.

Reasons

Sara asked me a question the other day... what does it feel like, to.....

... well to be sure i not sure that I am; but it feels... good. Effortless.

Easy to laugh.

Alive.

*****
There's a reason why I was sad last night; a reason why traffic is one way, why some paths cannot be retrod and why all the foresight in the world cannot prevent the future.

There's a reason why I don't do sweet nothings; I can, and I'm perfectly capable, but sometimes, I just... musn't.

There's a reason for fine, fine lines.

And that's the reason I was sad last night.

*****
There's a fine, fine line
between the present, and the past

A Fine Line

There's a fine, fine line
between together, and not

And there's a fine, fine line
between what you wanted, and what you got

....

There's a fine, fine line
between love, and a waste of time

Alcoholics Anonymous - 9 / 11

out-take

setting : the esplanade

focus on re-mi's mobile screen as the message to the assassin takes shape :
"will you be at klee later?"

finger presses send. pause. On screen : Message send failed - No network coverage

the theater is impervious to radiofrequency waves apparently.

at the intermission an hour later, an incoming message appears the second the doors open :
"from assassin : will you be at klee later?"

laugh.

******
Post musical drinks.

Re-mi found himself separated from his evening companion by dint of duty, each of us entertaining a complete stranger, as one does.

Her stranger was an interesting, reticent artist who looked suspiciously like the lead male from a taiwan serial involving gambling and casinos.

His stranger was probably a nice girl at heart....

probably...

weeell. "I appreciate the flavour of absinthe" does not cut it with re-minisce, who was tempted to ask her if she'd ever tried floor cleaner in that case.

Oh, and "excuse me, is that an organic lemon? I only take organic"...

howl.
Re-mi had to fight hard not to whip the lemon out of the stunned bartender's hand, rub it on the counter top a little, and hand it back to her. There. Organic enough for you now, luv?

The final straw.

"Bartender, this is a really lovely place, I love what you've done with it, now can you do me a favour, make me something that will blow my mind away." (flattery will get you everywhere...)

The third time she repeated it, re-mi looked her in the eye and said "how about a shotgun?"

*****
Honestly, you don't have to act special to be special. Just be yourself; there's bound to be someone out there who'll like you for who you are.

I think.

*****

Lady Grey opined that perhaps the stranger was pulling out all the stops to win re-mi's heart, by acting posh.

Well me no like posh spice. Me like wit and intelligence...

Avenue Q, 08 nov 08

The internet is for porn!

The internet is for porn, porn porn!

ahahahahahahahaha.

*****
There's a fine line

There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend;
There's a fine, fine line between reality and pretend;
And you never know 'til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb.

There's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time.
There's a fine, fine line between a fairy tale and a lie;
And there's a fine, fine line between "You're wonderful" and "Goodbye."

I guess if someone doesn't love you back it isn't such a crime,
But there's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of your time.

And I don't have the time to waste on you anymore.
I don't think that you even know what you're looking for.
For my own sanity, I've got to close the door
And walk away...Oh...

There's a fine, fine line between together and not
And there's a fine, fine line between what you wanted and what you got.
You gotta go after the things you want while you're still in your prime...

There's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time.



*****
One of the girls commented that the song was so emo that she cried.

Dry

Broke out the laptop to use on the call, since I'm effectively a prisoner on my own ward for twenty four hours.

It still has that game we used to play, the two of us; mame-multiplayer, Strikers 1942.

Do you remember? At your old place; the two of us hitting the keyboard madly till our wrists and hands hurt, you constantly scolding me for stealing your power-ups and bombs. And then there was that time when we played on two different computers, but it just wasn't as fun.

I remember.

Sad.

*****
When Lady Grey made a generous offer in the morning to take-out consolatory drinks in the evening for the parched, peeved prisoner of hearts, I thought she was just playing....

...so when she messaged about five minutes ago to say the jealous owner was refusing to allow her take out...

... laugh. Amused? Bemused? ...Touched.

Oracle

The ex-ex asked me when I would settle down and get married.

I guess when I meet someone I want to marry, who wants to marry me too, I replied.

That's how it goes for everyone, no?

Shrug
*****
I watched her eyes as she spoke, as she inadvertently elicited memories of my own about other times, people and places, as she shared our memories.

And I saw in her what The Oracle saw, in all of the five minutes it had taken her.

The First Rule : Never disagree with The Oracle.

Thirsty as the Sahara

Reeling. Is what re-minisce is, from the onslaught of the new posting.
Five alternate day calls in a row, ten calls in a month. An intensive care unit run solely by non-intensivists who pride themselves on being Jack of All Trades.

Things could be worse. On the bright side, I get to tell people I break hearts for a living. (don't tell anyone that they were fixed before I broke them...) It's a step up from what Ken was introducing me as. Laugh.

Day Zero did not go down too well though.

Registrar : You're from Hong Kong right?

Re-minisce : ... !

Registrar : Just that you're damn ang moh lah.

Re-minisce : .

*****
Re-mum : When you eat something you must cover it up, because lizards and baby mice are everywhere!

Re-minisce : ...

*****
Two calls and three nights later, I'm about as flat as, and perhaps even thirstier than the Sahara.

Drinks with the Lady Grey in an hour; I can barely wait... =)

Speechless

Good grief.

Good money down the.. Ho.

*****

Darth Maul @ Klee

Ahahahahaha

Remi - 1 Secretaries - 0

The Assassin-wife was disconcertingly relaxed during dinner even as the warzone unfolded about us (inside joke; wouldn't rather have had anybody else as a companion cum sacrificial lamb on the paramedical battlefield than a member of the assassin's guild) and oddly enough, so was Re-minisce, even despite the presence of the Professor whose fire he had stolen the day before, garbed, disturbingly in leather jacket and reversed cap.

Perhaps it was how... bizarre everything was ("Gun and roses!" "Donna Daniels from australia!" "XXX Rock!") or perhaps it was the wife who was magnificently at ease with herself in the presence of... strangeness... and completely unaverse to leaning in and sliding that razor sharp wit between reminisce's ribs; but as the evening wore on and transformed from eccentric to way-out surreal (nurses whirling napkins with wild abandon!) re-minisce found himself... actually enjoying himself. Oblivious to the familiar yet unfamiliar dinner-companions around us. And laughing a great, great deal.

Nah, it must have been the coke...

Just before saturation point (shortly after Beat it, and Bring me Back to Life) re-mi and "wife" bid the ill-at-ease dinner companions goodbye, to move on to real food, real drinks, and a semblance of normality.

Perhaps one of the funniest moments to re-mi was lost on everybody else, as the oddly rhinocerean (think star wars bad-guy) compere was enthusiastically destroying everybody's eardrums from her perch on the stage.

T (lovely girl that she is) : Where do you work?

Compere : (shout shout grunt grunt, giggle)

Assassin : mumble mumble C

T : What?

Assassin : AGC!

T : Oh.... NDC!

Such a fall from grace, from predator to... nurse. Ahahaha. Ha. Cough.

*****
Lawgiver

Background story : some time in the not so distant past, re-minisce was dodging out of the way of a... playful nurse in OT when he inadvertently got trapped in the sliding OT door.

Instant subcutaneous / intramuscular haematoma, shrug, no biggie. Tis but a flesh wound. (think monty python and the quest for the holy grail.)

Today re-minisce's mum wanders unannounced into the room as always, and beholds her shirtless son on his computer.

re-mum : what's all that blood on your shoulder!

re-mi : just a bruise. grunt.

re-mum : how did you get it!!

re-mi : hit by door.

(can we predict the next line in this script? Something along the lines of oh my god its so big, or are you okay, or does it hurt? Some show of sympathy for the injured duckling?? Hah. Think again.)

re-mum : what kind of door was it!

re-mi : ... ...
(pause)
WHAT DOES IT MATTER WHAT KIND OF DOOR

re-mum : why are you getting angry with me!

re-mi : I'm NOT ANGRY. It's a crazy kind of question to ask!

re-mum : NO IT'S NOT, I'M A LAWYER (sigh. Ok I confess, she's a lawyer.) DON'T CALL YOUR MOTHER CRAZY!!!

re-mi : It makes as much sense as asking one of your friends after she got hit by a car what make of car it was!! Or what colour the handrail of the staircase grandma fell down and broke her hip on was!!

re-mum : It makes perfect sense!!!

argue argue. argue.

*****
When Re-mi was younger (perhaps five) he swore that he would never, ever. Ever on pain of death. Ever.

Never.

In case we're not very clear on this.

Never-ever.

Even think, of thinking of dating a lawyer.

Ever.

I mean they're morally ambiguous right? And they have as much humour in them as dead, gutted fish, right?

And no matter what, you can't win arguments with them; when logic fails they switch into overdrive, right? And arguing is... never fun, right???

Cough.

*****
She opined somewhat contemplatively that men were intimidated by women who weren't their social inferiors; the room murmured in assent.

Re-mi thought : That's just not true. Not all of us see in terms of mice and men. Not all of us see people as careers, or social platforms. Some of us just see people.

Some of us thrive on... humour. Reparte. Wit. Effortless ripostes...

Some of us gun for equality.

Then he said : ... not all men are like that.

...the room murmered in dissent.