Hazia’s Reflections

I emailed my course instructor my 9th and 10th stories yesterday. In short, I churned out another 7 short stories in a period of 2 weeks. It was a marathon. LOL!

The good thing was that it didn’t make me tired. On the contrary, it helped me write stuff at work faster too e.g. boring press releases and speeches. Perhaps it has got something to do with this left brain - right brain balance thingy.

My instructor  finally asked me to stop submitting, well not directly though, he was too tactful. LOL!

All he said was that we now have more than enough stories for the book project and we may have to drop some. No problem, I can try pitching 1 or 2 to a women magazine instead.

Oh, some people asked whether any of my stories have been completed. Yes, I’ve finished all of them. I didn’t paste the full version on my blog to avoid plagiarism.

My next story (11th) is based on an entry in my blog a few weeks back. This actually happened once upon a time when I was 16 and really silly, hehe…

Rose Slippers - First Cut

Abah smirked. His lips started moving.

Mak sat calmly next to him on the sofa.

Abang Long was standing right in front of them. I could see him shivering.

“You are not marrying her!” Abah’s thunderous voice could be heard all the way to the neighbours’ houses.

*****

Abang Long, my elder brother, first brought his girlfriend back to meet the family during one of our annual trips to Kuala Lumpur.

We were staying at Hotel Equatorial then. Abah had his monthly Board of Directors meeting. We all flew there from Ipoh to be together. He called it family quality time.

I had to share a room with my two brothers. On our third day in the city, I heard the sound of the doorbell. I opened it and there stood Abang Long; he was grinning widely.

Next to him was a huge girl. When I said ‘huge’, I mean much bigger than my already big-sized family members. She was tall, around 5′7", and she weighed around 90kg. She wore a white shirt tucked into a long grey skirt with rubber at the waist.

I was speechless, overwhelmed too. I tried my best to crack a smile.

He introduced her to me, “Min, this is Raha. Raha, this is my sister, Jasmin.” She extended her right hand and I took it.

Both of them were 18 then, two years older than I. They were doing Law A-Levels together at a local college.

They entered the room and sat on the sofa. I sat at the edge of my bed and pretended to watch the television. I could not help eavesdropping into their conversation.

“What if she doesn’t like me,” she sounded worried.

“Oh, she would. Mak is okay. She is the most sporting mother anyone could have,” Abang Long tried to convince her.

Our younger brother, Lan, got out of the bathroom at that time; his eyes fell straight on her. I caught the shock look on his face. I had to refrain myself from laughing out loud.

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