Stories – pale blue fragments

Green

Posted on 26 Jul 20239 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

The green store had a pot left outside by the entrance with a sign that said “free” on it. The plant appeared to be tired and a yellowish shade of green. A woman standing outside told me that Green had been brought to the shop by his previous owners who no longer wanted him. “He’s been in our store for weeks now,” she explained. “No one wants to care for an orphan Green, even for free,” she continued. I looked down at Green and felt terrible for his deteriorating state. He looked like he desperately needed care. And although I wasn’t sure if I was to care for a faded green, I had to bring him home with me.

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Stories

Gentle Bees & Grounded Trees

Posted on 26 Feb 20239 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

I walked farther than I had in a while, but on this calm day, everything around me seemed magical – from the streets to the trees, birds, and even the tiny daisies sprouting miraculously from the sidewalk. I walked until my legs ached and the hot summer air made me feel drowsy. Finally, I found a spot under a willow tree and laid down on my blanket. I watched as sporadic cotton pieces floated above on a blue canvas. And there was something bright and roughly circular that seemed to be emitting linear streaks. My mind grew foggy as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing – my best guess was a giant diamond. I put on my sunglasses, closed my eyes, and drifted off into a deep sleep. Time seemed to slip away, and I lost track of whether it had been minutes or hours.

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Stories

Just a Memory

Posted on 22 Oct 202221 Apr 2024 by palebluefragment

I haven’t yet learned how to keep my emotions under a mask. But there’s only so much we can do to keep our minds calculating and rationalizing things before we slip up. Humans are not robots, I remember you said. But I hope that small side of me will stay safe with you before you forget about me, granted.

Stories

Mama Bird & Baby

Posted on 25 Jul 20229 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

I walked by two baby birds, one of them was clumsy and he couldn’t grab his food as easily as the other bird. I found the clumsiness of the baby bird funny. As I kept walking, I saw the clumsy bird’s mom. I jokingly told her about her baby’s clumsiness and laughed. She got angry and let out a hissing sound showing her sharp teeth, which I’ve never seen a bird show before. I thought that she didn’t understand my joke so I repeated it, but she hissed even harder. I then realized that my joke was not funny at all! Mama Bird didn’t like someone making fun of her baby. She also looked visibly distressed and sad. I don’t understand Bird language, and so it was hard for me to know what was going on in her mind.

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Stories

City Bird

Posted on 3 Mar 20219 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

City Bird was born in the city. He grew up on sidewalks and pedestrian roads and never set foot on grass. City Bird respected the city laws. He waited for green lights to pass and paid for his metro pass. City Bird was a modern soul, a fearless soul, an urban legend to be told. When City Bird flew he landed, not on street-lamp wires and trees, but on the finest architectural designs and on balconies with views for miles. He stood gazing at fast cars and fancy bars and city lights gleaming like stars. While the other birds ate bugs and worms, City Bird built shelters to protect moths from storms and grew leaves for beetles to feed their newborns. He was a strong bird, a proud bird, a treasurer of by-passers secrets and tell tales unheard. Strolling down the streets was his daily habit, wearing a shiny green scarf over a purple and grey jacket. With a courteous demeanor, he accompanied workers on their lunch break and thanked women who brought him coffee, bread crumbs, and cake. City Bird had feathery hands that hugged the wounds of aching hearts, and wiped the tears of dreamers whose dream fell apart. When leaves turned yellow and birds migrated in flocks, City Bird covered his four pink toes with handmade socks. He slept in a sky high building when winter came. City Bird was the city symbol yet no one knew his name.

Stories

Growing in the Valley

Posted on 2 Mar 20219 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

Our rooster’s familiar crow pulled me from my sleep. I buried my tiny limbs under the thick duvet my grandmother had sewn years ago. The sheep wool she stuffed inside provided my cold, languid body with the gentle warmth of a mid-July sunset. The heavy blanket pressed me down to a bumpy handmade mattress that rests on a bed made of a thousand springs. I closed my eyes to extend the night for just a little longer. I knew it couldn’t be for too long.

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Stories

Beauty

Posted on 30 Nov 201922 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

At 9:45 am her phone alarm rings. Beauty looks at me with sleepy eyes and whispers, “morning.” I don’t reply, but I smile and touch her face. It feels soft and pretty. Beauty’s hair is still wet from last night’s beauty shower, where she bathed in orange zest, cinnamon, and moonlight. Beauty washes her face with spring water and gentle breeze. She then moisturizes with La Mer tears-infused balm. She makes a teapot of sunflowers and daisies, waits until it’s lukewarm, chugs her teacup it in one shot and pours me one. “I don’t drink” I say. “It makes butterflies grow inside of my stomach”, she says.

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Stories

Ghostly Visions on New Year’s Eve

Posted on 25 Sep 201922 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

We were madly in love for a very long time. Twenty-three days to be exact. It was the longest relationship I ever had.

On the twenty-fourth day, a pigeon crashed into Levi, while he was climbing the steep stairs to the apartment. He tumbled down, struck his head on the sidewalk and died.

I lost my soulmate and fell into a deep depression. I cried every day, for the next one hundred and forty-eight days. I started counting the days since Levi had brought me the flowery pocket calendar with fluorescent violet patterns on the cover. I got excited about it when we were passing by a storefront on a balmy summer night. Each day has an interesting fact printed on it.

December thirty-first says, The Egyptian sun-god, Ra, changed himself into a cat, in order to battle evil. Bast, the goddess of fertility and love, always took the form of a cat, with the body of a woman and the head of a cat.

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Stories

Ketchup Festival

Posted on 5 Sep 20184 Dec 2024 by palebluefragment

September 5th 2018

I was sitting in the metro with a childhood friend from school and we were discussing the book Mad Shadows by Marie-Claire. I looked to the seat in front of me and saw that my French professor was sitting next to Vincent Van Gogh. I was not surprised because I thought that Vincent was just one of us. My teacher offered to gift me the original book that we were discussing earlier but I refused. I rented books and didn’t like accumulating them. Then I started noticing that Vincent’s ears were perfectly normal and he started looking more angel-like, as if he was taken right out a painting. The metro stopped in the middle of nowhere, doors wide opened and there were trampolines everywhere. Everyone was screaming “ketchup” so I told my friend, teacher, and Vincent not to worry cause it’s the Ketchup festival! We stepped outside of the metro where everyone seemed exceptionally happy! They looked loud but it sounded silent, as if someone put the volume on “mute”. A beautiful man with a nose piercing told me that he loved me and I told him that he’s an asshole because I knew him. I accepted his words anyway. Then we all went to a theatre that had round tables instead of theatre seats. We sat down and ate tuna with lemons.

Stories

Eight hours of void

Posted on 10 May 20189 Oct 2023 by palebluefragment

On May the 7th, at 4 pm and after a long debate, my brother and I decided to turn our phones off, swap them, and hide them until the next morning. This meant that I had eight hours to kill. The first hour was the hardest. I was thinking about checking my online order, writing a blog, and aimlessly scrolling through Instagram. The hour after, I made myself a cup of tea and searched around the room looking for something productive to do. I found a magazine laying on my desk. It’s been there for months. I got two issues because I was intrigued by the title and the cover and also impressed by the dark mediocre-quality papers. You can tell they’re recycled. I opened it to realize it’s a collection of short stories, poems, and photographs. I read the first three stories. I thought to myself “I wish I had read English books earlier in my life”. “How will I ever be a good writer?” “I must read more often”. “My vocabulary range is so limited”. Then I reminded myself that I should never use yesterday as an excuse. I tidied my room. It’s so satisfying to make my material possessions lesser and lesser every day. Except for clothes, I always need clothes. I talked to my mother about my room in our hometown and what I want to pack from it when I’m able to travel back. “I hope a mortar doesn’t catch it before I do” I said. I sat on the balcony, ate a big bowl of ice cream. I couldn’t listen to music without my phone so I hummed the lyrics. I wrote a list of my dreams and all the things I want to achieve. I folded the paper two times then teared it into pieces. Made sure it was impossible to be assembled by anyone again. No one should ever know my late evening thoughts. I took a shower. I felt light as spring and I felt soft. I fell asleep around midnight and I had wonderful dreams. I kept closing my eyes in the morning trying to get myself back to sleep, to save as much dreams in my memory as I can. I woke up around nine, got my phone back, turned it on. I put it on the desk and sat in my bed for a while. It was calm and my head was clear. I picked my phone up, checked my online order, wrote a blog, and aimlessly scrolled through Instagram.