Creative Writing in English

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To share original stories, poems, scribbles or your favorite paragraphs from the literatures. Writing is a good way to sort out one's thinking.

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"so I overtipped him. That made him happy. It felt comfortable to be in a country where it is so simple to make people happy. You can never tell whether a Spanish waiter will thank you. Everything is on such a clear financial basis in France. It is the simplest country to live in. No one makes things complicated by becoming your friend for any obscure reason. If you want people to like you you have only to spend a little money. I spent a little money and the waiter liked me. He appreciated my valuable qualities. He would be glad to see me back. I would dine there again some time and he would be glad to see me, and would want me at his table. It would be a sincere liking because it would have a sound basis. I was back in France."

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Comment by Nathan_EMBC on Monday: Nice story, looking forward to part 2.

Comment by Mars Lover on May 18, 2013 at 12:47pm: A Determined Dream

Sitting near the edge of dawn again, I wake from a determined dream.

Lonely, I look for friendship in this solstice of an existence.

Up one day, down on the other. This is my true feeling of this relationship.

Where is that waiter with my shrimp fried rice, and why do those children have to make so much noise pollution when playing in the surf ?

How do I get into these ridiculous situations of fearing the shear existence of my loneliness ?

Do I have the strength or the will to go find her ? What if I do find her and she refuses ? Oh no ! Do I sit here and wait for her to stroll by in happenstance ? How many days, weeks, years do I sit here on the beach waiting for that one simply lovely woman to walk up to me and put her arms around me and kiss me like no other ?

This is my determined dream.

I lay awake each night with her on my mind. She is beautiful, no, she is gorgeous ! Witty, smart, cunning and soft.

She lets her hair get all messed up when she sleeps and then in the morning, she laughs about it. I kiss her with profound diligence. I would not want her to fall into anothers arms.

She makes me happy. I can't stop thinking about her.

But, where is she ? Does she exist ? If she does exist, when will I find her ? Where will I find her ?

Hence the reasons why I come here to this same spot on this same beach every weekend. Waiting for her to walk by and notice me noticing her. Our eyes will connect. We will make simple smiles to each other. I will look up and down her sexy and firm body. We will know it is the other we have been searching for when it happens.

Ah, but this could take a lifetime to happen.

Why do I put myself through this torture ? Is she worth this every day feeling so alone, lonely ? Could it be no different odds of happening than winning the lottery ? Maybe so. Maybe it could happen, maybe it could not. You can't win unless you play. Same in love and relationships as in the lottery odds. You can't win unless you play.

But, playing the odds on this lottery is like trying to predict the next earthquake or volcanic eruption, you never know when it will happen, just that it might happen. The odds seem to be against me. In both circumstances.

Ah, finally, my shrimp fried rice is here. Nothing like a little asian food and a brew to wash it down with. Hey ! I know. Maybe I am looking on the wrong beach ! Maybe she is on the other side of this water I sit at. Maybe I need to take a trip to a far away beach. Somewhere with better shrimp fried rice and dumplings and steamed fish. Maybe I need to get away and find her in Asia.

Yeah ! Asian women. Nice, beautiful, dedicated, all the good things.

Thats it ! I will buy a plane ticket tonight to hmmm, where ? What asian beach should I go to look for her ? Well, I know that if I don't find her in Asia I will at least have a good time looking for her.

I think China is a good place to look. I like Chinese foods and the culture and the people so it is a done deal,

China here I come to look for her !!!

to be continued,

Copyright Mars Lover 2013-05-15

Short Stories Live Long Lives.

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on April 23, 2013 at 10:26pm: Standing at the same place

I feel worn out and frozen from inside out

Couldn’t move a step further

Let alone about crawling out of this depressing abyss

So this is me when thinking of you

Whose mind is suddenly teemed with the urges to impress

Whose world is temporarily off balance

And who will always care what misted your eyes

In this or that picture

And realize

Isn’t that also my expression when thinking of you?

Comment by ssicy on April 6, 2013 at 9:24pm: Hi dear writers, want write a adventure story together?

http://www.shenzhenstuff.com/forum/topics/story-writing-cat-disaste...

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on April 3, 2013 at 4:19pm: For the truth is (let her ignore it) that human beings have neither kindness nor faith, nor charity beyond what serves to increase the pleasure of the moment — Virginia Woolf, "The Waves"

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on March 1, 2013 at 2:32pm: Love, affection and closeness

Cause much confusion for my heart to see through

When it’s not a person it’s committed to

But a feeling

Mixed with vanity and blind passion

Which together might benefit no one or everyone

Depends on the fate

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on February 25, 2013 at 4:10pm: Silence, if lasts too long, erodes the passion and stales the thoughts. It feeds a soul craving for solitude yet afflicts one desiring for response.

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on February 24, 2013 at 12:52pm: Such silence

Prevailing for all these days

Whether it was for me to forget you

Or for you to forget me

I don’t know

How about you?

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on January 6, 2013 at 2:32pm: I know what loves are trembling into fire; how jealousy shoots its green flashes hither and thither; how intricately love crosses love; love makes knots; love brutally tears them apart. I have been knotted; I have been torn apart. —Virginia Woolf, "The Waves"

Comment by Nathan_EMBC on December 14, 2012 at 9:27pm: There can be no doubt, I thought, pushing aside the newspaper, that our mean lives, unsightly as they are, put on splendor and have meaning only under the eyes of love. —Virginia Woolf, "The Waves"