An Instant - Colours by Selina

An Instant - Colours

He inhaled deeply the serene air coupled with delicate redolence of flowers at Sydney Harbour National Park with the corners of his mouth turned upwards, forming deep wrinkles on his coarse face. Today must be a magnificent day, with an azure sky above me! He exclaimed, although he had never seen colours before. ‘Azure’ was the colour of the sky people described to him.

His walking cane leaned next to a tree while he ran his fingers down the intricately carved grooves of his violin, with a blissful smile hanging on his face. Gently placing the violin beneath his chin, the usual familiar smell of mahogany and home surrounded him, creating relaxation for him at this foreign environment. He placed his fingers at the worn spots on the fretboard, where countless hours of fingering for notes caused the lacquer to thin, exposing the rich varnish beneath. As he drew the bow across the stings, small wisps of rosin float lazily above the instrument while mellifluent melody and dulcet rhythm of Canon in D by Pachelbel pours forth from the violin’s hollow body.

He closed his eyes. But it was not dark. This was the only instant where he could see the world full of colour that he imagined how they should be. A warm breeze swept past him. The notes around him fluttered and danced joyfully in the wind along with the music, and he would sit on the chartreuse grass, smiling from deep within his heart and charily observing his children’s facial features and expressions while they are playing. That was his precious instant in the wind.

The soothing song ended softly but his world of colours continued resonating in his head.

Author's notes:

283 words, which is very very short! This piece conveys my love towards violin despite the fact that i have no clue how to play it... Anyways, sorry for being really late! 

Please criticise and recommend more sophisticated words I could replace. 

Orchids- The Brown Bench by Selina

The Brown Bench

The gentle wind brought the fragrance of blooming pink lilies growing from the lake along and caressed her wrinkly face to smear the silver tear that glistened in the corned of her eye away. The chirping of the birds and the rustling sounds of leaves echoed in her ears as her vision began to clear. The lady is here again, at Centennial Park, sitting on this isolated brown bench covered with bits of dull red leaves, holding the pink orchid with its pedals that once felt like soft velvet, that once symbolised their eternal love. Waiting.

The pure white orchid attached to the little girl’s silky black hair caught her attention. The girl scampers along the lake and hummed a peaceful melody with the ruffles on her pink velvet dress flowing with the wind, forming a nostalgic image in front of the lady's eyes. A strong gush of icy wind blew the white orchid on her hair into the lake, forming ripples on the still water.

Beside the little girl, a middle-aged man was kneeling down on one knee and handing a bundle of blossoming pink orchids to a woman. The woman’s face shone with happiness. They gazed at each other with tender affection and shared a vision of the future that no one will interfere.

Watching them was like watching her past flashing before her eyes. These memories surged her emotions like a tempest. The voice of his unachieved promises echoed in her head, “Wait for me, I’ll be back for you.” So she waited, and waited, for 5, 10, 20 years, everyday she sat on this bench, holding the pink orchid he once gave her but long withered. Waiting…

Author's notes:
- White orchids symbolise innocence
- Pink orchids is the gift for 14th wedding anniversary

292 words. A rather short creative, I'll try doing my prison creative some other day. Hope you'll enjoy it and please point out any problems with my grammar, especially with my expressions. Thx!

AAFM - Affinity by Selina

Affinity 

The bustling sounds of laughter and the vibrant colours of myriads products greeted Rose as she paced into the Asian Food Market at China Town. The breeze of cool air from the air condition gently swept past her lustrous hair and surrounded her with the usual sweet aroma.

The cashier, Mary, with strands of white hair glimmering under the florescent light, welcomed her with a big flash of smile like sunshine shining over a flower. “It’s good to see you again!” Mary shouted over the crowd and warmed the cockles of Rose’s heart.  

Rose and Mary had first met each other at a funeral, where Mary was crying mournfully over the death of her beloved husband in an unfortunate car crash. The delicate silhouettes of the weeping willows sway in the icy wind. Mary’s life had shattered into million pieces. This familiar scene awakened the painful past that was deeply buried in Rose’s heart and caused her a pang of sadness as the harsh reality of her loss that simmered below the surface gripped her firmly again. A knot caught her in her throat. Her eyes welled with emotions.

She understood her. They share the same experience.

Since then, they have been supporting each other for ten years through the crossways in life and formed an unbreakable bond, where their thoughts could be easily understood with a single glance, smile, expression.

Rose waved back at Mary with a smile lingering on her face as she reminiscence their memories together, and walked towards the noodles aisle.

There, stood a short chubby woman on the wooden bench, with thick horn-rimmed glasses hanging around her neck, carefully removing the instant noodles from the cardboard box and stacking it on the shelf. It was Emily.

The grey highlights were advancing, making their way deeper into Emily’s thin black hair, yet it wasn’t able to cover the smile that lit up on her face like a wintry sunshine when she saw Rose.   

Emily was an old-aged woman who lived by herself in the outskirts of the city. Rose would often visit her and listen to the stories about her past, her glamour and her advices. She was like Rose’s mother.

Rose greeted her and quickly stacked a few cups of instant noodles for her starving children waiting for her at home.

As she head out of the Asian Food Market, she could hear people’s story echoing behind her, being told at the bustling markets where affinity would continue to grow.  

Author's notes: 

416 words. I have attempted to write a belonging related creative, but somehow it turns out to be too cliched and childish and boring and....

I wish i would just write more sophisticated like you guys...

Anyways, hope you guys will enjoy it! =]

Model - Reality by Selina

Reality  

I sat on the fragmented red Ferrari that Grandmother Jane gave to her dearest grandson, forcing a joyful smile like how I always did for the past 20 years, and hid the silver tears that glistened at the corner of my eyes through my thick sunglasses. Like Grandmother Jane, I lost the colours of my life. Isolation. Rejection. And helplessness attacked both of us from night to day.  I looked wearily out at the monochrome world, drawing my attention towards a middle-aged man dressed in mourning, standing under the dusty mantelpiece. He was gently weeping over the delicate, dustless box that contained yellow creased photos, which Grandmother Jane used to hold beneath the full white moon that drifts before a shimmering sky, leaving numerous diffused spots on the photos of her and her “family” smiling at the camera.

Sealed letters without addresses were neatly stacked inside the box. They were letters written towards her unseen family members that dumped her in this dilapidated house.

There was also a little bottle that coldly read out “MORPHINE. WARNING: do not exceed one tablet per day”. Yet, the bottle was empty.

The cool night gust rushing through the cracks of the house gave the man shivers down his spine despite his thick leather jacket. He unwillingly noticed how thin the solitary blanket was on the narrow, crooked bed. A white letter issued to her family members was placed there, written the day before Grandmother Jane died.

As he read the wobbly writing on the letter, his body seemed to sway with the realisation of pain and hopelessness they had given Grandmother Jane. Then, as if too tired to stand for another moment, he flopped in a creaking chair and stared at the red Ferrari that blinded him with glamour, but now paid with sacrifices, casted over long shadows of regret and guilt sitting outside the cracking window covered with cobwebs…

Author's notes: 317 words!

Sorry for posting it really late! Somehow it sounds really fragmented when i read it over again :/

Please point out my horrible grammar mistakes and any aspects i could improve. 

Hope you guys will enjoy it =]

Thank you!