Out in the cold

He hated lip balm.
He hated the sticky feeling it left on his lips, which caused him to subconsciously open his mouth ever so wide, thus making him look horrendous in photos. He hated the taste of it, the stain it leaves when he drank from cups, the strong smell of mint it gave off.
And most of all, he hated the trouble it causes, having to apply it all the time, lest he wants his sensitive lips to crack while on holiday in temperate Canada.
And yet now here he was, standing out in the frigid cold, applying copious amounts of lip balm on his dry lips, and for once not complaining mentally about how uneasy it made him feel.
He wrapped his jacket him closer as another gust of cold wind blew past him. Strangely enough, his body shivered, but his mind did not feel the cold, it hardly even acknowledged its presence, instead he cast his eyes over the railing and moved towards it. He rested his elbows on the railing and looked across the river to the other side, where the bright lights of the city sparkled and shined. From his vantage point, he could not feel the hustle and bustle of the big city, instead the city lights reflecting off the ruffled surface of the river gave him a calm feeling which served to calm his nerves somewhat.
He fished the paper from his right pocket out. Written neatly on that piece of hotel paper were the words, “Meet me at the Riverside at 12 midnight” (The Riverside was a part of the hotel which allowed patrons to view the riverside) It was unsigned, and it was slipped under his hotel room door around 11 p.m. He only noticed it when he came out of the bathroom after his bath, and first thought it was just a prank and wanted to dismiss it, but an inexplicable feeling came over him, convincing him to just go and meet this mysterious person. So instead of hopping into bed, he got dressed and there he was now, shivering in the cold.
He glanced at his watch. 0002H. Maybe it was a hoax after all, a method to trick unsuspecting and gullible tourists like him of precious sleep. Maybe it was a left over note that was never cleared. Maybe it was placed through the wrong door.
In the death of the night, there was no one at the balcony but him. Still, he thought, even if it was just a prank, he managed to look at the magnificent cityscape in the night. Sighing, he rested his head in his cupped palms and slumping against the cold railing. Like many times when he saw breathtaking sights like these, he would invariably think, “Wish I could share this sight with someone else.”
“Hey.”
It was so sudden, so out of the blue that he didn’t react immediately. He merely dismissed it as his lonely heart trying to strike up a conversation with his sub-consciousness to get rid of the deafening silence. So he merely just turned towards the direction he thought it came from, and stopped cold.
The voice belonged to the girl in his tour group.
She stood at the entrance of the Riverside, smiling.
“Hey.” She repeated.
He could only numbly say “Hello” in return.
There were a million thoughts swimming around in his head, but oddly enough, the thought that dominated his brain was, “She’s beautiful.”
Her shoulder length hair was untied, unlike in the day during the tour, where she keeps her hair in a neat ponytail. She had pretty brown eyes, those that emote extremely depending on her mood. He saw them light up in joy when she found the souveneir she wanted in the gift shop, glower fiercely at the stranger who was rude to her, and cloud over with concern when she momentarily thought her younger brother was lost when he actually went back to the coach before her.
She had dainty hands, fair complexion and a radiant smile. She had the girl next door innocence, but yet she exudes a quiet confidence and independence, being the eldest of three siblings. She had come along this trip with her parents and her siblings, and she acted mostly as a responsible elder sister, keeping watch on her siblings and having fun with them. She was also of a gregarious and cheerful personality, as evidenced by the fact she would always help the elderly of out tour group carry their luggage.
In short, she was someone way out his reach. He only looked at her from afar on a few occasions, but never actually taken the effort to engage with her in conversation. Everytime he tried, her parents or siblings would be in attendance and he would lose the courage before slinking away deflated.
And yet she was here, in the flesh, in front of him, untied hair swaying in the wind, her eyes staring into his, hands behind her back.
It must be some dream, he thought.
I don’t even know her name!, he thought.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
She was still there.
Deciding that maybe this was real, a bolt of realisation hit him. He managed to sputter out, “The note…it was you?”
She gave a chuckle, looked away for a while before turning back and smiling at him. He felt his knees weaken. Suddenly he wondered why did the place feel so hot. He smiled nervously back.
She bowed her head and took three steps forward, then she looked into his eyes again.
“I have noticed you looking at me over these few days.” She said.
His mind exploded in a mess of frantic thoughts. Deny adamantly? Admit and see what happens? Or act blur? A flash of panic came over him, which escalated each time she walked closer to him. She was now face to face with him, so much so he could smell her fragrance, gaze deeper into those mesmerising eyes of hers, feel the heat from her body. Bizarrely, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight, perhaps in a vain attempt to try and protect her from the harsh cold temperatures.
“I… I…” was all he managed to say, before she silenced him with a finger to his lips. He was thoroughly confused now, not to mention very flustered.
The next thing he knew, he felt her warm lips on his; they placed themselves ever so softly on them, a moment which lasted merely a second, yet felt like a century for him. In that short, wonderful instant, it was no longer night, it was the brightest of days, all other thought were gone from his mind, all was left was a longing for the moment to never end.
But it did, and the world swam into reality again. He looked at her face. She wore a shy look, her face blushing slightly, perhaps due to the cold and what she just did. She went back to staring at the ground again.
Then she reached out and grabbed his right hand softly, her dainty hands felt like the purest of silk on his. She placed her palm over his, leaving a note behind before closing his fist for him. She gave him one more smile, before turning away from him and started to walk slowly away, back to the entrance.
The wind still tugged on her hair as she, according to him, floated away from him slowly.
Dumbfounded, he looked at the paper in his hand. Written in the same neat handwriting on the same type of hotel paper were these simple words.
Call me when we return to Singapore. 96578254
He stared at that piece of paper for a full second. Then he called out to her.
“Hey!”
She stood at the exit, door open and one foot inside, ready to enter.
“At least tell me your name.”
She smiled.
He was now of the opinion that she had the greatest smile on Earth.
“Christine.”
And then she was gone, the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone. Yet again.
Dumbly, he felt his lips and remembered the moment they just shared.
He never hated lip balm again.

Please note that this account is a work of fiction and it does not mean that such an incident or anything similar happened to me. It was something inspired by my trip when I looked out of the window of my hotel room when I couldn't sleep at 2 am in the morning canadian time due to jet lag. Hope you guys enjoyed.

The twilight road to dawn

Well guys, I know I'm very guilty of not keeping this place updated regularly that I'm sure no one reads it now, which is sort of a boon I guess so those nosy people from the "organisation" will not find out of my alternative views and send me off to do regimental training for a long long time... In any case, I just came back from a trip to canada, 11 days spent mostly in the coach sleeping off the jetlag, frigid winds of temperatures ranging from -26 to 10 degrees, ice skating and landing on my butt heavily a lot of times, family bonding that bordered on the dysfunctional, but above all a break from the tiresome routines of my usual life.
And all good things must come to an end, and it did, and now I'm back to what it used to be.
Well, it's going to be christmas again, the most depressing time of the year for people like me who don't have anyone to look at the christmas lights with, which incidentally is merely 2 streets away from my home and I've yet to look at them.
Nevertheless, I should welcome the new year in the company of good friends, and with my birthday coming up, it promises to be a good 2006. Bring it on. Come november, it'll be freedom...