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10 October 2008

Thanks for Sharing

----Thanks for Sharing----
[A Fiction]

A million thoughts, each scuffled to attract attention. Out those million thoughts, only a couple of them were prominent enough to linger in his mind for more than a second. Those thoughts were:
1) This state of silence is getting uncomfortable. Say something! Anything!
2) You barely know me and you shared your deepest secret. I’m just a stranger, why are you doing this?
3) Gee….thanks for sharing. I feel honored.

There was this awkward long silence. She looked weary and depressed while he was trying hard to think of something to say. Deep inside he figured: “maybe cheering her is out of my league. Dude, just say something to keep the conversation alive. Anything!”

Had he not be an introvert, this silence wouldn’t have lasted so long. After a long battle with his inner mind, he finally figured something to say. The moment just before he exerts the muscles of his vocal cord, she casually turned around breaking eye contact.

Despaired, he changed his mind to say nothing as this awkward silence continues. She walked away, grabbed her novel, cuddled on the sofa and started flipping pages as her eyes locked within those mini-sized words. Throughout the whole thing, he stared at her actions with eager eyes as if he was going to make a permanent record of this moment in his mind. He did this because it has been a long time since he last felt accepted by a person.

As she was reading her novel, he grabs a pen and scribble his emotions on a piece of post-it-note. On the next page of the post-it-note, he scribbled a personal message for her. He was cautious while he wrote those words because he would feel vulnerable if someone noticed his actions.

He was waiting for the perfect time to slip the note in her bag. In order to do so, he had to wait till she was away from her bag, or while she was asleep. From the way it seems, she had nowhere to go, so the only chance he could get to slip the note was when she goes to bed.

That night was perhaps one of his most arduous times ever in his life. His eyelids were getting heavier and he could barely keep himself awake. At 4.44am, it felt as if it was the 38th time she opened her jaw grasping for fresh air when in reality it was the third time she yawned.


Fast-forward to next morning when he woke up, he could felt her absence. It was as though she left the backpacker’s inn without a trace like a stealthy ninja. He was the intuitive type who could accurately predict events seconds before they happen. That morning was a clear sign that his hunch maintains at an accuracy level of 100%.

Though he couldn’t remember what he wrote last night, but he sure hope that she reads it. In fact he couldn’t even recall if he did slip the note in her bag. Well, it doesn’t matter anymore as she is already long gone by the time he woke up.


Three month later, the female traveler noticed a small yellow post it note crumbled deep inside the side compartment as she was clearing her bag pack. It was a piece of unattractive note, the type of paper portraying the impression that its just another piece of trash. Usually she would discard the note without hesitation, however for some reason unknown, she felt a weird sensation emitting from the note as if it was begging to be read.

Reluctantly, she opened the crumpled note. She was the impatient type who has a short attention span. Initially she had a hard time figuring out what was written behind that terrible scribbling. Was it in English, she couldn’t tell. But when she turned the note 138 degrees clockwise, her heart sank when she read: “I hated it here for the past 4 years because I don’t fit in with ANYONE. After hearing you share your deepest secret tonight….well… I don’t feel so alone anymore. Thank you!

She tried to analyze the note, the handwriting, how old it could have been and how did it end up in her bag. She tried to figure who would do this kind of senseless act. Perhaps its just another trash. Not knowing who wrote it, she threw the note away.

At the precise moment the note landed on the very surface of the freshly emptied trash-can, He sneezed three times in a row. Exactly three times.

----Written by 3POINT8----
[Inspired by PostSecret and ShuChyi]

3 comments:

emotera said...

ahahaah..so sad he doesnt have the courage to say what he feels right away...well most people are...

thanks for sharing this!


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Tekkaus said...

Well, it's very hard to express one's feeling towards the others. Even the most blaring voices sometimes become so silent when the right person is the recipient. Ha =)

A great write 3point8. I haven't been here for quite a long time o. =)

Alpha Whale said...

Sometimes it's hard to catch my attention in a read, not here. Good job on this one; my favourite part quite frankly is the last line. Completely made it for me.

"He sneezed three times in a row. Exactly three times."

I was wondering if you could write a(or direct me to any written) first person short narrative from the POV of a test subject in a medicinal type experiment. I've been trying to make a song using some software to match the mood of a story I wrote along those lines, but the story isn't nearly as good as your writing could be. :)

Regardless, good read, awaiting your next as always.