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May 29, 2009

Friday

It's cold in here.

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The irony of the situation made him smile while he sat shivering.

Not too long ago, he was gloating to his friends in Vermont how he was going to enjoy the warm weather of South-East Asia while they suffered a miserable winter.

Out of an uncharacteristic impulse, he decided to score cocaine from some locals at a Singaporean bar only to find out that it was a setup. Somehow he managed to escape and his friend, Ahn, had hidden him in the cold storage unit of Boon Meatpacking Co while the police looked for him.

It had already been 72 hours ….

Posted by: koonal at May 29, 2009 3:46 AM · Permalink

‘It’s cold in here,’ said the faux polar bear rug to the little girl.

‘I thought you’d be used to the cold.’

The polar bear rug laughed.

‘What are you laughing at?’

‘I’m made of synthetic materials.’

‘But you’re still a polar bear, right?’

‘Not the typical kind,’ my friend.

‘What kind of polar bear are you, then?’

‘The bedroom friendly, low-maintenance type. I don’t eat, don’t drink, don’t make a mess, but I can give you plenty of cuddles when you need them.’

‘Oh, polar bear, I’m so glad you decided to talk to me; let me hug you!’

Posted by: Anyonymous S at May 30, 2009 12:15 AM · Permalink

I sat on the bleaches. The smell of sweat, wax and memories transported me to another time. 2009 disappeared and I was suddenly 17, shy and unsure, annoyed my mother moved us again. She was like the wind, breezing through life refusing to linger anywhere too long. Maybe she thought she would rust.
“It’s cold in here.”
His voice echoed within the emptiness. Even though I had only been here 3 weeks I knew Jake Powell….everyone did. His sneakers squeaked across the freshly waxed floor as he joined my seclusion. The warmth of his jacket melted through me like butter.

Posted by: marie at May 31, 2009 8:04 AM · Permalink