Default avatar user thumb

jeily

Hong Kong

dreaming about writing 25/7
actually writing 3/7

Message from Writer

trying my best

Published Work

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

Auntie

    I was twelve when she left.

    The moon was still visible in the early hours of the morning when she dragged her luggage out of the house. She had wanted to leave quietly, so not to make a fuss, but I woke from restless sleep because I wanted to catch her before she left and say a real goodbye. I said it, with only one goodbye and an uncountable number of I love yous. She stroked my head as she said those three words back, stroked the hair that she styled when I was five, held me like I was still a baby and she had to cradle me to sleep, kissed my forehead like I was her child. Her luggage stood by her side, large and present, a constant reminder that even though she was embracing me now, she would soon take that purple Samsonite out the door to the airport to another country,...

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

Auntie

    I was twelve when she left.

    The moon was still visible in the early hours of the morning when she dragged her luggage out of the house. She had wanted to leave quietly, so not to make a fuss, but I woke from restless sleep because I wanted to catch her before she left and say a real goodbye. I said it, with only one goodbye and an uncountable number of I love yous. She stroked my head as she said those three words back, stroked the hair that she styled when I was five, held me like I was still a baby and she had to cradle me to sleep, kissed my forehead like I was her child. Her luggage stood by her side, large and present, a constant reminder that even though she was embracing me now, she would soon take that purple Samsonite out the door to the airport to another country,...

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

Auntie

    I was twelve when she left.

    The moon was still visible in the early hours of the morning when she dragged her luggage out of the house. She had wanted to leave quietly, so not to make a fuss, but I kept waking from a restless sleep just because I wanted to catch her before she left and say a real goodbye. I said it, with only one goodbye and an uncountable number of I love yous. She stroked my head as she said those three words back, stroked the hair that she styled when I was five, held me like I was still a baby and she had to cradle me to sleep, kissed my forehead like I was her child. Her luggage stood by her side, large and present, a constant reminder that even though she was embracing me now, she would soon take that purple Samsonite out the door and to the...

Sunlight #raincontest

    Our school is positioned so in the morning, when the sun rises in the East, the buildings block out the sun so the pitch is freezing. In comparison, the west side of the school is nothing upon nothing upon nothing but pitch. By the time afternoon rolls around, you'll be smoking on the soccer pitch if you stay out there.

    Except he doesn't seem to mind.

    He stands, in the sun, for twenty minutes every day at exactly two in the afternoon. Who cares if you have class? He'll stand there, without fail, every day. Even if he wasn't in school (which was often, I have to say), he'll climb over the closed fence, his fragile looking arms shaking as he falls down the other side onto the pitch in a heap. He'll drag himself out there and stand in the sun, baking and roasting beneath his beige sweater and white, strangely polka-dotted trousers....

Sunlight #raincontest

    Our school is positioned so in the morning, when the sun rises in the East, the buildings block out the sun so the pitch is freezing. In comparison, the west side of the school is nothing upon nothing upon nothing but pitch. By the time afternoon rolls around, you'll be smoking on the soccer pitch if you stay out there.

    Except he doesn't seem to mind.

    He stands, in the sun, for twenty minutes every day at exactly two in the afternoon. Who cares if you have class? He'll stand there, without fail, every day. Even if he wasn't in school (which was often, I have to say), he'll climb over the closed fence, his fragile looking arms shaking as he falls down the other side onto the pitch in a heap. He'll drag himself out there and stand in the sun, baking and roasting beneath his beige sweater and white, strangely polka-dotted trousers....

Water Body

Limitless

the water is cool beneath her feet
she cannot feel it,
but it's there.

the sand is soft.
the air is cool.
the people are kind.
fish swim, swim, swim.

she sits by the coast,
her feet dangling just off her limitations.
she doesn't have it as easy, but
she's trying.



can people see that she loves the water?

the waves heave and crash,
following the rise and fall of her chest.
she breathes,
synonymous with the salty dihydrogen oxide.
one day, she'll be in there with the rest of them.

Water Body

Limitless

the water is cool beneath her feet
she cannot feel it,
but it's there.

the sand is soft.
the air is cool.
the people are kind.
fish swim, swim, swim.

she sits by the coast,
her feet dangling just off her limitations.
she doesn't have it as easy, but
she's trying.



can people see that she loves the water?

the waves heave and crash,
following the rise and fall of her chest.
she breaths,
synonymous with the salty dihydrogen oxide.
one day, she'll be in there with the rest of them.

One-Liner

Self-Destruction

All of us are Icarus.

Water Body

Limitless

the water is cool beneath her feet
she cannot feel it,
but it's there.

the sand is soft.
the air is cool.
the people are kind.
fish swim, swim, swim.

she sits by the coast,
her feet dangling just off her limitations.
she doesn't have it as easy, but
she's trying.

can people see that she loves the water?

the waves heave and crash,
following the rise and fall of her chest.
she breaths,
synonymous with the salty dihydrogen oxide.
one day, she'll be in there with the rest of them.

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

The Mother-To-Be

    How tender, a moment can be. It is a waltz; they merrily dance together in pure bliss and all smiles. They break apart, and stare into the other’s eyes.
    Snap!
    He knows what’s coming, but she is too quick. Her grasp stretches and he is caught, before he isn’t. His headless body falls as she crunches. His skull is brittle in her jaw.
    She trots away, a belly full of him, a womb full of eggs. She knows, Nature –not history this time– will repeat itself. Perhaps next time, it will be her son’s head in another woman’s belly.

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

The Mother-To-Be

    How tender, a moment can be. It is a waltz; they merrily dance together in pure bliss and all smiles. They break apart, and stare into the other’s eyes.
    Snap!
    He knows what’s coming, but she is too quick. Her grasp stretches and he is caught, before he isn’t. His headless body falls as she crunches. His skull is brittle in her jaw.
    She trots away, a belly full of him, a womb full of eggs. She knows, Nature –not history this time– will repeat itself. Perhaps next time, it will be her son’s head in another woman’s belly.