Writings
Here you’ll find some poems and excerpts from my short stories.
Stories
Max
The story of a boy whose life changes forever when he receives a gift from his missing father.
“Maxuel Tomas! You get in here at once!”
Max felt the blood rush into his ears at the anger in Aunty Pruneela’s shrill voice. From his hiding place in his uncle’s study on the first floor, he could hear the loud clanging of pots and pans as she prepared dinner.
Uncle John was out of town on a business trip and Max knew no-one would dare come looking for him here. It was the one place that even old prune-face, as Max secretly called his aunt, would never enter for fear of driving his normally mealy-mouthed uncle into a rage.
He had gone to the study to look for something, anything, that would help him find his father. His eyes fell on an antique cupboard in the corner. It belonged to his father who had once filled it with all kinds of mysterious documents and books about magical people and places. It was empty now.
Andrew Tomas had packed up and left two years ago, soon after Max’s mother died. He remembered the image of his father bent over in grief, hands lingering over every photograph of his mother as he leafed through the family album. Max hadn’t heard from him in months despite his promise to come back for him as soon as he found a good place for them both to live. Where was he?
“Maxuel Aryan Tomas, did you hear me?” His aunt’s rising temper showed in the way she screamed his name – in full, with bold and underlined capitals and the T firmly crossed, thank you. She never called him Maxuel, and definitely not Max. Usually though, she refered to him as “that useless good-for-nothing” or “filthy cockroach,” which made it obvious what she felt about him. Aunty Pruneela loathed cockroaches. She smashed them to pulp.
He had to get out of this house and away from his aunt. He needed his father.
Image by Karen Smits from Pixabay
“Oh no! That’s gone and done it,” muttered the slim gray cat, her slender tail quivering. Kasih darted a glance at her beloved human who stood motionless at the front door, staring out into the garden in horror.
The big old tree that had dominated the garden, lay on its side among shattered branches, roots clawing the air. Blue bits of a broken birdbath poked out from the leaves. Kasih looked away. She couldn’t bear the pain and shock on Fer’s face.
For years she had played around in the branches as Fer meditated morning and evening under the tree. It had sheltered and cooled the cosy home perched on the edge of a slope, open to the wind and views of river and jungle. Children and monkeys, squirrels and garden mice had all played in its shade. One freak storm, and it was gone.
She rubbed up gently against Fer’s soft blue jeans. What could she do, what could she say, to make her companion feel better?
“It’s a good thing it didn’t fall on the house.” She tried to make her voice quiet and comforting. Her tail twitched nervously as Fer stared down at her, eyes wide, mouth open.
“I think I’m going crazy. It’s all too much.” Fer ran her hand through her short grey hair and shook her head. “Now I’m hearing things. I should go and lie down or …..”
“I can talk you know. I’m not a magical cat for nothing.” Kasih arched her back and fluffed out her fur. She felt a little miffed. “But I suppose it’s understandable that you don’t get it. After all, you are just human. And there aren’t many of us left you see.” She realised she was babbling a bit and began a vigorous grooming of her paws.
Cat's Call
A magical cat takes her human and an egoistic bird in search of the perfect tree.
Poems
Rainforest River
A short poem inspired by a ride along a river in Sarawak, East Malaysia.
Light bright leaves
dance sun-struck
River ripples gently
a wide flowing glassy sheet
billowing softly.
Trees rise high
reach sky-wise
through a myriad flying, flitting, sitting, creeping,
crawling, leaping, sleeping,
slumbering, lumbering things.
Green shade shapes quiet shadows
over mossy bossy grass slopes.
Magic
A poem by Alisha Lin Yi, at age 10.
Magic exists in everything,
from the birds to the bees
from an elephant to an ant
from the sky to the earth
from the sea to the land.
We think it to be words written down on paper.
We think it to exist in spells alone.
In witchcraft and wizardry
In potions and wands
In books and paper.
What we don’t see
is how it can exist in the smallest things.
In good deeds and happiness
In kindness and love
and in the beauty of life.
We think it exists in wisdom and power and heroic deeds.
But it really is in the small pleasures of life,
in the odd everyday things.
That is truly Magic.