One&Only OreadJ

I drag my luggage along the street alone, trying to repress the urge to look up and see if Phil is checking on me. Somehow, I feel that he is still hoping that all is just a practical joke. So I need to tell him from all aspects that this is not.
Early morning wind blows me cold as I wander aimlessly on the street. The familiar everything looks so unfamiliar with the shroud of darkness. For a moment, I want to go to Megan’s, but I don’t want to look too much like a runaway. Runaway from what? From my seemingly-happy marriage? Or from my unreliable husband? Either way, I don’t want her to make fun of me, not even in heart. Neither should I call Nick. He is still at loss with himself about our relationship. I shouldn’t add more wrong clue to him. Otherwise, he might really think himself to death. 
Never have I missed Ella so much. My elder sister. Someone who knows me the best. Someone who loves me even better than mom. But just like what I did to mom, I thought I could live all by myself well enough without any help from Ella too. And I did it for 4 years. I don’t know why I insist on marrying Phillip in this land where everyone I knew so well are so far away from me and then cut out myself from the world which I knew so well for such a long time. Until now. But I can’t go home. I’ve been so accustomed to fight alone in the world without Ella and mom. And I’ll be all right. Hopefully.

I wrap myself tight with my wind coat and go on my morning roam on the street. It’s about 6am soon. There will soon be the morning bus to get people to work and back home. The fathers and mothers will kiss on their sleeping kids’ cheeks and whisper “good morning”. And when the kids wake up in an hour or two, they will again see their breakfast ready on the table in the dining room. That’s home. Sweet home. 


“As a result, the phenomenon has arosen wide attention from domestic sociology scholars….Hey you ever thought about having a family with me?” I squeezed Yi’s nose. 
“Family? How old are you, young lady? And you should be thinking about that? Focus on your interpretation. The beginning part should be ‘due to’ and it’s ‘widely’ attention.” He read out the answer for my interpretation passage on the reference book. 
“Don’t you want to have a family then?” I pouted.
“Never said that. Go on. Next passage. Listen carefully.” He held up the book, ready to read on. I put the book down and looked into his eyes, “Do you or do you not?”
It must be the longest time we stared at each other silently. 
“Do you or do you not, Yi?” I asked again.
“Yes I do. Now go on.” He began to read out the passage. I listened absent-mindedly, feeling the other part of me flouting on the cloud already. 

“What kind of family do you want to have then?” I asked him again at lunch.
“What kind of question is that? A normal one.” He answered without raising his head to look at me.
“Come on. You know what I mean. Where shall we live in? How many kids? Blah blah.” I bit my spoon, shoving the last words from between the teeth. 
Yi put down his chopsticks on his plate. I had my spoon in my mouth and waited for his answer.
“Does it really matter now? You’re a junior now. And you complain every day yourself about those ‘god-damned’ interpretation and translation works. Focus, Lena. Focus.”
“Yi…” I lowered my head, his words upsetting me so bad.
He patted my head, “Sorry, Lena. Well…let me think, hmm, my ideal home, with you, hehe, is like…well, I might not be that rich, so I might not have a car. But I can take the bus instead. After work, hmm, I could cook for the kids and kiss on their foreheads good night or good morning. Lame right?” Yi continued his lunch. 


Nope. Ever since then, that has become my ideal home as well. And that’s something called “Lame”. 

A lonely moon sheds her light on stacks of books. Who is the figure leaning on the desk, taking its nap? Move closer, you get to see a familiar face. You may have seen her somewhere some time on some day. Either by the bus stop or at a convenient store. What was she doing again? You try to trace back this girl, yet all you get is merely a blurry view of her back. Long hair, big bag. Maybe she is simply a nobody, someone easily be forgotten in the crowd. But wait, there is string of words on the screen in front. You lean forward to read it more clearly: “He felt his heart ripped, his blood flushed out, roaring in his body, crying for his son.” You scroll up the screen to read more. And you wake up the girl. You’ve got to see her face. Small eyes, a pair of black-rim glasses, an absent-minded smile. Who are you? She mumbles out an answer, while rubbing her eyes. What do you do? “I’m a columnist. And I’m writing my first book here.” Cool. What’s it about? She looks at you in the eyes. You can see them glittering in front of you. “That is not to tell. You’ve got to find out yourself. Isn’t that the magic of story? Want something to drink?” No thanks. Still, she stands up and walks to a refrigerator. “I think you may want some yogurt? I always like yogurt, especially when there’s papaya.” She sits back on her chair, eats one spoonful of her yogurt and goes on, “I don’t get much visitors here. So please make yourself at home and keep me company.” You feel the coolness of the yogurt in your hand. Why is that? “Long story. First, It’s not at all easy for me to become where I am now. Not everyone supported me of this idea. Many of them persuaded me so hard to go on the path of civil servant. It is a good ending in itself. Yet I’ve always held such a dream in me, that I want to be able to let me voice heard. Unlike a vote, but I want it more directly. Say, reading or listening. But I don’t have a beautiful voice for a broadcaster. Nor the quick mind to react on the air. Therefore, I retreated to where I am now. I was in the academia back in university. As far as I’m concerned at least. And I broke away from that too, since I never really had passion for IR theory, even after years of US policy study. Funny, now that I think of it. I spent so many years studying something I can’t even remember a bit right now. Or should I say it’s the time that is the only magic?” She bit on her spoon. “Oh right. I almost forgot that I got a teaching job before I joined this league.” The yogurt carton is now empty. “Do you want some snacks?” She helps you put the empty carton away. No. It’s fine. You can go on. I’m good. But you know she will get you something. And she does. She goes and fetches you a bag of chips. “I know I’ll have someone here one day to eat it.” She actually looks good when she really smiles.”About that job, all I can say is thank you to the headmaster of the school. I really appreciate her chance given to me. Otherwise I wouldn’t have met so many people and hence the materials to keep writing. But I quitted after all. Because it is not the kind of life I pursue.” You look around her apartment. Small and messy are the only two words that fit. She seems to have the ability to read your mind. “Yes. I know this is not a grand palace. But I love it all the same. I don’t like to have my hands tied up by anything. Not even by a tight schedule. I hate it when I had to press my finger on that cold machine the second I stepped into the office. It just didn’t feel like home to me. Perhaps, I’m one of those hermits in town, breaking many codes every day.” She looks at you as if expecting an echo from you. It’s fine. Everybody has his right to choose. “I agree. So I choose to stay fickle in my career. You can wait for my words on magazine of this month. It is however equally possible that I disappear and show up as a receptionist the next month.” She winks, “But there is something that will never change in me. You see, this is my only first book. I will write on and on. Till the very end.” You take another glimpse at her desk. Among piles of paper, the black font on one piece catches your eyes: Stride on, Smile, Sunshine.