behind glass

Written & illustrated by CHARLIE TO

saltwater rippled and stirred. we ung pebbles at imaginary foes, so they’d leave us alone.

that was summer held still, dying sun and dulcet breeze, birds warbling in the heat. later three gods rose and kept watch unwaveringly. ringed hand waved and all gave to a tapestry of fantasy: millions twinkling and pulsing like questions, while Sagittarius crept up behind the bringer of wonder, you.

joy pierced like a matador. summer’s bright howl, now in nite, is in snaps and clicks. soon the leaves will start to fall: i guard my thoughts of you carefully (i guard my thoughts of you carefully)

Untitled by K.A.JAMES & illustrated by FAY QIAN

e summer breeze whistled by the both of us. Your hands were clenched to so wings of straw, woven to the hat that latched onto your head. Around the brim was a congregation of owers that you picked: jasmine, tulips, lilies, and da odils. White played with pink and yellow mixed with rose in the summer glaze. Strips of sand bleached hair slipped down your shoulders, beaming its own radiant light. You always said you liked that hat.

You do remember, right?

e jade waves of grass folded and crushed with every step of ours; a ripple rst washed through the dense blades, then came the violent crash between skin and earth, crushing the grass from head to toe. e summer breeze was there too, running in its predestined course. e supple leaves above our heads swayed in rhythm with the run of the wind. e wildlife felt it. at bee (I think it was a bee) almost stung my ear! You laughed, surprising yourself, and looked away again. e eld ahead stretched out for miles, an endless expanse of emerald. Sure, it was beautiful. It wasn’t enough to rid the hazy look set in your eyes.

In the second that lasted for minutes, raw passion and longing desire fused in an exotic mix, beating down on any remaining sense. I wanted more. More was longing for your clear blue eyes to settle onto mine. More was the so touch of your hand to brush against mine, skin on skin, nger interlocked with nger. Perhaps, more was just to hear the slightest whisper, a fragment of sound, to leave your locked lips.

Your mouth formed abstract shapes, smiling and frowning, as the words that tumbled out meshed into a shield. A toxic mix of want and need leaked onto the surface. My eyes darting, yours steady. Strands of blonde hair settled so ly past your ear, collecting to cast its shadow around your cheeks.

e silver-grey clouds dared not appear; the emerald plains below our feet danced to the tune of the breeze; the towering trees standing as guard around the eld relaxed. Yet, nature’s religious zeal could not pry open the insurmountable defences that locked away your feelings. We pressed on as the gap grew wider between us. e wind’s whistle spoke but the deafening silence did not break its resolve. It only felt right to break it.

“I look at you and you never seem to be happy. I don’t understand.”

“I’m happy. Who said I wasn’t? You look at me and believe you understand everything there is to see. You want to understand in your own special way,” you said.

“You respond but you never talk. You have this far-away look in your eyes. It’s just me, singing my words to the void. I want to hear about your mornings or the random little things that make your heart utter. I want to hear about what you draw or the ower that you like the most.”

“None of that concerns you. How I feel isn’t something that you should feel obligated to know. I keep things to myself because I want to. What right do you have to pry into my life and claim it as yours too? You want someone who wants to talk on and on like a broken record,” you replied.

For the rst time, songs of the mockingbirds fell to a quiet hush. Overcast clouds hammered down the blue gates, spilling into the plains. You spoke once more.

“You try so hard to bend the world to your will. It won’t begin to rain just because you wish to cast your anger into the world. Flowers will not rise in winter because your happiness wills it so. You look at me as another person to conquer. Being wrong is unthinkable to you. Like a child, you grab and claim everything as yours. What am I to do with you? Should I stand here and submit to you with open arms? Is that what you want? Perhaps it’s better if I slip on the mask of the woman you think I am and play her role like an actor on a stage. You believe that an open sky or the sun burning brightly is a sign of con rmation. Spurred by anger or love, the world around you should know it, right?”

You had spoken from the heart, spitting words of venom to me at the time.

You remember now...

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