Tag: short story

Stranger’s Affect

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Read through this and find your place as a Stranger in people lives.

I was sipping my coffee when a stranger asked, “How can I make impact to the world when I’m just a clerk?”

“What kind of impact are we talking here?” I asked and she paused. Then she shrugged.

“What is world mean to you?” I changed the question to divide her attention into two areas – The best way to change the world and who she could do it as. She took moments before she replied…

“People”

I looked around and she mirrored me. She looked puzzle by my action. I moved my index finger around and said “In that case, this is the world” and I smiled. She looked around again.

“Let say ball represent transformation of love, good thoughts and good deeds. If you cannot pass a big ball to these people in one go, pass a small one. One ball to each person here. When they get the balls from you, they will remember you as a person who passes them a ball. They will remember you because it’s personal. That, in many ways is the most effective way to change the world. A person at one time” I explained.

A Clerk with Files

A Clerk with Files

“But I’m just a clerk. Would people listen to me?” She asked.

“What’s your working hour?” 

“Nine to five” She replied short.

“Do you do filing after five?” 

“No”

“So what are you after five?” I asked her. She paused again.

“When you want to do good deed, do it as YOU. Never do it as a Manager or a Politician or a Millionaire or a Clerk. When you do it in the name of the title, you earn nothing. After all, when you do it as a person who has titles, you are no longer a stranger” I told her softly.

“So being a stranger is important?” She asked.

I nodded. “Which one of these two people will make you feel uplift when they told you that you have shining hair? Your friend or a stranger?”

“A stranger”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because if he mentions it, that means he really noticed my hair“ She said.

“Indeed! I called it Stranger’s Affect. The memorable simple transformation and uplift moments are always from strangers. Small but memorable”

Make a Different 

Talking to the Stranger

Talking to the Stranger

Everyone and anyone can make different and change the world. As long we pass the love, good thoughts, good deeds and positive transformation, we are making different and change the world.

You can change the world and start small by helping people around you to transform. Small things affect the most because it’s personal. Make them realize that they are part of the beautiful world. No one is left behind. Everyone is here because it completes the beauty in the world. Say nicest things to the strangers you meet. Greet them with your happy tone. Love them as part of the beauty world.

Be the stranger and the affects to the world are greater. Most important thing is, strangers transform the world because they just want to share their good thoughts, loves and good deeds.  Simply pure sharing and no recognition involves (which make the good thoughts, loves and good deeds circle faster)

So that’s how it goes. The best way to change the world is one person at the time. When you can’t do it as a family or a friend to everyone, do it as a stranger then.

Right before she left, she smiled and said…“…and today I found my stranger. Thank you”

Single Bed

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Few weeks ago, I saw one status update on Facebook that sound something like this “I meant to be alone, lonely and die alone” . I couldn’t help but replied to the post and part of it sounds like this:- “No one meant to be alone and never wish you die alone. It’s ugly”.

Few days ago, another friend of mine told me how much she wishes to be somewhere where no one can reach her. I told her, “Never wish these 2 things. Die alone and live alone”. Always stay connected to people around you, not material.

Circa December 2009, I wrote one short story about Single Bed. The idea hit my mind the moment my friend told me about her intention to buy a single size bed. According to her, she just broke up with her partner therefore she doesn’t need queen or king size bed anymore. I believe she spoke from her broken heart. I wrote the short story and she’s the first one to read. And she decided to settle for queen size bed.

The short story is just a fiction. An idea on how important to never wish you be alone in any ways. I made some corrections on certain words to suit the reading in here.

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Title: Single Bed – Friday, 11 December 2009.

I know I’m staring at something on the wall but the object seems blurring. My eyes blur. I turn my head slowly to the left and right and I see no one. I opened my mouth but something on my throat makes me feel so uncomfortable. I’m trying to remember what is happening to me but I couldn’t. I feel like my brain isn’t working anymore. I trembled and scared. In a quick respond, I closed my eyes tightly. Trying to catch all the strength I have in me and I lost.

A beep sound on my left beeping so fast. I still close my eyes tightly and yet I couldn’t catch any of my strength. My body doesn’t seem responding to my request. My brain doesn’t seem to work the way I want it to work. In split second I heard voices and I opened my eyes.

There are five people around me. Oh! Maybe six. I couldn’t tell when everything seems so blur. I heard voices but I couldn’t understand any words. All I see some of them moving so fast. Some stood still. One not moving at all. I moved my eyes slowly to one object. This object seem so clear to my sight. And I realize, I’m lying on this object.

My First Bed - Baby Bed

Suddenly my brain is processing everything relate to this object. I saw my first bed. I saw my mum swinging it. I was sleeping inside it. I can hear her lullaby clearly. It’s so beautiful.

I stare at it deeper but something is changing. I’m no longer in my first bed. I saw different bed. I   was jumping on it. I looked happy and cheerful. I turned my eyes to the door.
My dad was standing there smiling.

“You are big girl now so you should have your own bed and your own room. Happy 9th sweetie”

I recognize now, that’s my second single bed! I remember I used that pink bed until I was 16th. My third single bed was my birthday present. It’s bigger than my second’s. More ‘mature’ I would say. I used to own this one until I was 34. One night, it ‘collapsed’.

More Matured Bed I Would Say

“It’s too old mum. I need to get a new one” I said.

“You should get king size bed. You know…get ready to have someone special share a life with you” My mum replied.

“Nah. Save the space mum. Besides, I have no one to share it with me at this moment” My quick responded.

“You don’t have to wait for that. Just enjoy having big space to sleep”

“It’s okay mum. I’ll get big one when I’m ready ok”

Next day after the conversations, I was in furniture store pointing at my forth single bed. I remember I slept well on that bed. I also remember I’ve been using that bed since then. I used it for many occasions…whenever I cry mourning my mum’s death, when I happy, when I do my reading…and many more. I never change to king size bed nor queen size.

…and I never will.

My name is Kaitlyn. I was born in 1950 and I’m 59 years old. I’m alone and still alone to this very moment. The object that seems clear to my sight is my fifth single bed. I didn’t own this one. I have no choice. I can’t choose it either. ‘They’ gave it to me.
I wish I have bigger bed so someone can lie down next to me and ease my fear right now. But it never happens. I know it never happen.

This is Not My Choice of Bed. It Was Borrowed to Me

The voices I heard before sounds clear to me now. This time only one voice I heard. The one that tells me everything is too late for me to wish.

“Time of death 1.35pm”

Suddenly all the images gone except two objects.
One is the sixth person who was not moving at all. He was waiting and still waiting.

Second is my next single bed…