Three Sentences Stories

On his deathbed, my father told me he would become immortal after he died. I asked him how could that be, you can’t live forever once you’ve passed, but he only smiled and ruffled my hair, hiding the pain in his chest where a virus unknown to science was slowly eating its way into him. There was no funeral when he died, but I found his name in every book on virology that was printed since.

So there was a mini-challenge thing in my college club where we’re supposed to write a story in three sentences. Apparently I’m still terrible at twists or making jokes, so mine ended up being more serious instead. Need to work on my brevity, I guess.

Continue reading “Three Sentences Stories”

Advertisements

don’t judge a man by the quirks you first see of them

Since beating Undertale about two weeks ago, I just can’t stop thinking about it. If you told me during my first two hours of playthrough that I will unceasingly love this game, I would have laughed. I had thought at the time that the game, with its gentle heart, just isn’t the type for me, the cynical asshat. But by the time I reach the game’s ending, I was ready to hug it and carry it for the rest of my life.

Thank you, Toby Fox, for this wonderful game, I have no words to explain how much it changes me.

a paragraph is easy, but the story twist around in my head too much to make anything out of it

Aaron glanced out to the pink and orange sky outside his window. There were giant birds flying out there, birds made of metal and chemical feathers and hearts made of iron. Occasionally there were people perched on them, wearing armours that looked like steel pressed into fabric decorated with tribal markings. Absent-mindedly, Aaron started making a sketch of one of the bird riders as they looped around the sky. Yesterday, he’d interviewed them, in the guise of an everyday journalist. They laughed and openly mocked him for how wary he was of the birds, but eventually they took him for a drink and tell him more than enough to make his reports.

I am having so much trouble writing, these days, I might need some help.

This is part of a completely ludicrous story I might or might not be working on.

Pemilik Pondok Terakhirku

Ini terjemahan amatiran untuk cerpen “My Last Landlady“, dari kumpulan cerpen Trigger Warning karya Neil Gaiman. Aslinya dalam bentuk setengah-puisi dalam bahasa Inggris, diterjemahkan ke prosa bahasa Indonesia. Terjemahannya lumayan bebas, lebih menekankan kedekatan perasaan daripada kata-per-kata. Bait/baris pusi kuubah bebas jadi paragraf-paragraf.

Iseng aja sih. Waktu itu lagi nggak ada kerjaan dan nggak ada kekuatan buat nulis lagi.

Continue reading “Pemilik Pondok Terakhirku”