Coffee with Love (Chapter fourteen: Direction Changed) by Jet

"Welcome on board Hawaiian Airlines. Safety check. For safety reason, please put on your seat bell," says cabin crew through the announcement speaker. "We are now heading to Seoul, South Korea. It's about ten hours and fifteen minutes nonstop flight…"

"Hi Son! Where are you heading to?" Says an old lady.

"Hi, but I'm not your son!" Yong reluctantly replies, forcing a smile on his lips. Why does she call me, son? Yong asks himself.

"You're good at joking," responds the lady. "You know what I meant, son!"

"I know," Yong fakes another smile, "but I'm not your son? Just to be sure."

"Of course, you're not!" the lady returns Yong her smiles.

"What did you just ask me by the way?" Yong recalls that the lady has asked him question.

"Oh, right!" the lady recollects her memory, "Where are you heading to?"

"I'm heading to Thailand," Yong says politely.

"Are you Thai?" The lady continues.

"Yes, I am."

"What are you doing here?"

"Why?" Yong asks the lady.

"Nothing why? I'm making conversation and asking out of curiosity."

"What do you mean here? Hawaii or Thailand?" Yong clarifies.

"Here, I refer to Hawaii."

"I am here for business."

"Has you completed your business?"

"Why do you ask me so many questions?" Yong sounds annoyed.

"I'm just making conversation, why?" The lady resonates, "You don't want me asking questions, do you?"

"No, I don't mean that," Yong explains. "But we are just stranger!"

"I know, son," the lady stares at Yong. "But doesn't friend make from stranger!"

She makes quite a point! Yong says to himself.

"What?" The lady looks at Yong hard as if he were her prey, "Did you just say something?"

"No, yes," Yong confuses, "I meant 'Yes.' You're quite right."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So, has you completed your business here?" The lady repeats here question.

"Yes and No," Yong hesitates the answer. Why 'yes' and 'no'? What do I mean? Yong silently asks himself.

"What do you mean 'yes' and 'no'? You make this old lady like me confuses, son!"

"I'm sorry," Yong apologises. "What I wanted to say is that I have partially finished some of my business and partially unfinished."

"Hope you don't mind if I ask why you leave if your business is partially incomplete?"

"Hmmm," Yong pauses, trying to debate with himself whether or not he should this lady's question.

"So?"

"It's personal," Yong speaks, after a moment of silence.

"I know it's personal, that's why I asked you 'if you don't mind?'"

"Right!"

"So, do you mind?"

"What do you want to drink, sir?" A female flight attendant interrupts.

"Can I have a glass of water, please?" Yong says.

"How about you madam?"

"I may have a glass of orange juice, please. Thanks," the old lady, who is sitting next to Yong, says.

"Here is your water, sir."

"Thank you."

"And, here is your orange juice, madam."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Enjoy your flight."

"Thanks."

Yong sips the water from his glass and takes deep breath. The old lady does the same thing. She sips her juice, but doesn't take any deep breath. The lady has her grey cardigan over her black knitwear and black skirt. Her hair is mostly grey, which makes her whole body almost covers in grey except her knitwear and skirt.

She is not American or European, judging from her look. Yong loses in thought, trying to identify the roo of the lady. She is from Asia for sure, according to her look, and she doesn't look like a bad person. By the ways she dresses, she is well bred, either from an educated family or wealthy family.

"Are you okay?" The lady touches Yong's right hand softly, trying to wake Yong up from his daydream.

"Yes?" Yong regains his consciousness.

"Are you okay, young man?" The lady asks as if she is worried about Yong.

"I'm good."

"Did you ask me something?"

"No," the lady says, waving her hand. "But, you haven't answered my previous question. So?"

Yong looks stoned-deaf, not hearing what she asked. He looks outside the window, trying to recall her question. It is very bright outside the window, a field of dazzling space without track of cloud. Yong turns back to the lady and asks her to re-ask her question.

"Do you mind sharing me your partially incomplete business with this stranger?"

"Ah, about that," Yong says. "It's just. It's just. How can I put it! I'm not sure if it is incomplete."

"Why not sure?"

"Because I am not sure."

"Tell me why you think you're not sure?"

"Okay," Yong gives in. "Let me tell you from the start."

"Okay."

"I met a girl in my shop..."

"You own a shop?" The lady interrupts.

"Yes, I do. But do you want to hear the rest of the story?" Yong replies as if starting to get annoyed.

"I'm sorry. Let continue."

"She is sweet, smart, and beautiful. She has beautiful eyes, which captured my heart the moment I saw her. She is a bit shy and stubborn, though. She doesn't talk much. She is not a local here. She is from Cambodia. She comes here to pursue her dream of getting higher education, taking Master's Degree in Television Production Program at Pearl City Community College. She wants to direct and produce documentary films to impact the society and make changes--good changes. We have been out for quite awhile now. I feel something for her. Something inside me is calling for her. But, I don't know if she feels the same way. The strange thing is that she suddenly disappeared. I don't know what has happened or what I have done wrong. I tried to contact her, but no response. I think she is avoiding me…"

"Then why do you leave the town if you haven't done your business?"

"I don't know. I can't find her. She's lost. It's hard to find someone you think they are avoiding you. Small place can become very huge place. Small world can become very huge world."

"Do you give up on her now?"

"I don't know. Even though I don't want to give up on her, but I can't force her to do anything she doesn't want."

"Did she tell you that she doesn't want?"

"No."

"Then, don't predict her answer. Your prediction might be wrong, and thus, makes your feeling worse."

"What should I do?"

"Don't ask me what you should do? Ask your heart what you should do. Follow what your heart is telling you to do, so you won't regret it later."

"Thank you," Yong feels grateful talking to her. He turns to the window again, looking at the bright space outside the window. What should I do? What does my heart tell me to do? Yong asks himself.

Eleven hours later…

"Can I have a ticket to Cambodia, please?"

When your brain stops working and don't know what you should do, then follow your heart.

To be continued…

Ten Years

Time flies. Ten years can easily pass in the blink of an eye. Without us knowing it, everything has gone by and left.

Ten years ago you made my first lover. You made me realise what love was, how happy felt, how hurt was, how selfish was, how jealousy was, how to let go, how to love, how to lie, how to talk, how to cry, how to act, how childish was, and many other how(s), and all of them were my first time. It was the first transition of my life, from a carefree teenage and single boy to an adult who had to deal with other person's feelings as well as my own feelings.

I do agree with a saying that "first love is the most memorable." You're always in my mind. Your face, your smile, your tears, your worried wrinkles, your lip, your hair, your staring eyes, and your touch have registered and recorded in my head. Your memory has never once faded away from my mind, never once left my breath, even ten years after. I don't know why I can't get rid of it. Vivid memory about us are always there. I don't need to try very hard to recall about our used-to-do things, used-to-go places, used-to-make promises, used-to-drive roads, to name a few. Your favourite songs has always remained in my favourite playlist. As a result, I can't remember well about other lovers, but you. Their faces become blurry to me, including their names.

Ten years later, I want to meet you again and make you my friend. Yet, I don't know if you want the same things as I want. You may hate me for the rest of your life or you may have forgotten me altogether. You may move on with your life, and me too, I move on with my life. However, I have never tried to forget you or pretend not to know you because I can't hide the fact that we were once lovebirds, we were once each other's shadow. You have become part of my life, part of my experience. Your show has shaped my present life, has shaped who I now am. Your love has contributed to how I see love and how I should love.

How many ten-year time do we have in our life?!!!

Ten Years by Eason Chen

Coffee with Love (Chapter Thirteen: Another Lee) by Jet

…out of over 7 billion people in the world, can there be two people that have an identical face?...

Yong is on his way to Honolulu International Airport, used to be Jonh Rodgers Airport, which was named after a World War I naval officer in 1927. This airport project was funded by the territorial legislature and the Chamber of Commerce, and was the first full airpot in Hawaii back then. In 1947, this airport was renamed Honolulu Airport, and the word “International” was added in 1951. Honolulu International Airport once had the longest runway in the world of 3,992 meters in 1953. Nowadays, Honolulu International Aiport is one of the busiest airports in the United States, which receives more than 21 million passengers a year.

Why on earth this airport named after a World War I naval officer, Yong wonders; and yet he has no any intention to find out the reason behind. Asking people could be an easy way to get the answer; however, whom should he ask? Just like him, a random person or passenger might not know the answer. An airport officer may and may not know the answer. Who cares about the previous name of the airport anyway! And there are many things and places named after a person’s name, and the simplest reason maybe to remember the person who maybe had done something for his country.

The weather is exceptionally hot today, despite the cold morning breeze from the Pacific Ocean. Yong is in line, waiting to check in Hawaiian Airlines for his flight back to Thailand. The decision to go back home is very rush, which is beyond his expectation. He does not plan that he has to visit home so soon, given his newly opened business. However, since his mother’s constant callings and the disappearance of Lee, Yong gave in and started to pack his belongings for a short visit if at all he anticipated.

Yong thinks to himself, if by chance Lee were at this moment in this airport. If she were, he would have to find out where she were going to so that he could at once get another ticket to where she were heading. But, this is impossible. Yong shakes his head to clear his daydream. Lee has disappeared from this town a few days already, how could she show up here at this airport? Yong convinces himself. How daydreamer I am! Yong sighs.

“Next please,” a blonde and sea-blue eyed check-in officer calls as Yong approaches forward. She is in her late twenty with slender built given her narrow shoulder. She is single. There is no ring visible on her finger.

“Good morning, sir,” the officer greets. “How are you today?”

“Good,” Yong nods.

“May I see your passport and reservation, please?”

Yong hands her his passport and ticket as requested.

“You don’t have any luggage needed to check in, do you?” The officer inquires.

“No,” Yong shakes his head. “Only this carry-on luggage.”

“I see.” The officer is busy typing something into her computer before she looks at Yong again. “Here you go, sir,” the officer returns Yong passport back to him. “You’re ready to go. Please go to Main Overseas Terminal and look for Gate 7. The gate will be closed 15 minutes before depature time. Do you have any further question?”

“No. Thank you,” Yong picks up his passport and walks toward the immigration sign.

After getting through immigration procedure, Yong finds the Diamond Head Concourse in Main Overseas Terminal, which contains 6 gates from Gate 6 to Gate 11. Yong stops by a coffee counter to get an iced latte to cold off the heat. While Yong is waiting for his coffee, he sees a young lady in cream-colored shirt sitting in front of Gate 10, waiting to board. Next to her sits a young man. They look like friends, and the young lady looks like Lee.

“Your coffee, sir,” a staff calls out.

“Thank you,” Yong says and reaches out his hand to touch the coffee without looking at the staff.

“Sugar and napkin are over there,” the staff directs his index finger.

“Thanks,” Yong hurries to pick up his carry-on luggage and moves toward the young lady. When Yong lifts his head and almost walks toward her direction, she disappears.

How come they disappear like flash light? Yong asks himself. This can’t be hallucination. I saw her with my own eyes sitting next to a young man. I can’t daydream two people at the same time with sober mind. Of course, I can imagine Lee, yet not a man I have never seen before. My eyes and mind can’t trick me, but how?

“The Hawaiian Airlines Flight 345 from Hawaii to Seoul, South Korea, is now ready for boarding at Gate 7,” an announcement alerts.

Damn it! Yong sounds angry. Why it has to board now? If I go now and find out that that girl is not Lee I would miss the flight. But what if she were Lee then I would miss the chance to find out why she is avoiding me. Yong stands still when the announcement alerts for second time. At last, Yong decides against his thought of going to find out about that lady and walks toward the gate.

If both of us are destined to be together, fate will bring us to one another! Yong comforts himself.

to be continued...

Coffee with Love (Chapter Twelve: Masquerade Ball) by Jet

In a sleeveless silver gown and a glittering silver mask which covers most of her face, Lee was standing next to a corner sipping her first-time-ever alcohol drink, Dry Martini, gin and vermouth garnished with an olive. Fancy drink by the look of it, Lee told herself. But the taste is not bad. Would I drink it again, I have no idea. Alcohol drink is not my thing. Only a class of it could send me to sleep until tomorrow noon, Lee continued to murmur to herself, while she was looking around for Sothea, who had invited her to join this charitable masquerade ball in order to support children with disabilities, who are in need for support to go to school.

Sothea told her that he did not want to come alone to this event and would be glad if Lee could join him; and yet, she would not need to worry if someone would recognize her because everyone would be wearing costume and mask. So no one would ever notice the other person if they did not come together. It would be fund, Sothea whispered into her ear, plus it is about a good cause.

Lee thought that it was not a bad idea. Finally, she decided to come per Sothea’s constant request. And here she was in a gown and mask borrowing from a friend of Sothea’s. Lee was still looking for Sothea. But how could I ever find him? Lee gave up searching. We did not come together. We each made our own separate way to this event because we wanted to see if we could really spot one another in this crow of people with all-time favorite movie costumes. Sothea did not tell me what he would be wearing, how can I ever find him.

Looking around, Lee spotted a familiar face of a guy standing next to the stairs. He was in the Princess Pride’s Dread Pirate Roberts with a sword on his waist. She recognized his costume right away because the Princess Pride is her most favorite childhood’s novel. The Dread Pirate Roberts was talking to a girl with a glass of champagne in her right hand in Cinderella’s dress, except she wore a mask. How beautiful she is! Lee uttered to herself. I would love to wear that Cinderella’s dress and experience Cinderella’s fate, dancing with her prince; even it would last a very short time.

Suddenly, Lee thought about Yong. Is he Yong? Lee asked herself. No, he can’t be him. How can he be here? There is no way he is Yong. Who is he with that familiar face then? Lee continued asking herself. Maybe I am drunk now, by the power of this mixed alcohol drink that they call Martini. Anyhow, what is Yong doing now? Will he be looking for me all the time I am gone?

For no reason, Lee continued to stare at the Dread Pirate Roberts guy until finally he noticed that she was looking at him. Lee turned away to avoid his eye contact. However she was too late. Their eyes met one another, which made unexpected lightning effect across the ballroom, and the Dread Pirate Roberts started to walk through the crow of people in masks.

Lee started to feel nervous. She wished he were not walking towards her. What should I do now? She blamed herself for looking at him too hard, too long. No wonder people would catch your glare. Her hands shoke and got sweat. Her heart beat faster as if it was going to burst out of her chest. She tried to stay calm and breathe as normal as she was when the Dread Pirate Roberts was step-by-step nearing her. His step was handsome. Every girl stole a look at him when he walked pass them. He kept walking, straight and steady, as if he had only one goal—to reach the girl who was looking at him from a corner of the room.

Being unable to control herself, her legs started shaking, giving her body a hot-summer-sweaty steam. With her handkerchief, she wiped the sweat off her redden face, of shyness, of embarrassment, of anxiety, of confusion. She could not walk away, though she wanted very much to escape to get some air, which she felt suffocating, and to hide herself from this awkward situation.  Yet, her legs were no longer hers. They were strongly stuck onto this sparkling marble floor.

Would you like to dance with me? The Dread Pirate Roberts inquired.

Lee looked around to check if he were really talking to her, asking her to dance with him. When she found out that no other women were around, she hesitated a Yes, but… She wanted to continue to tell him that she by no means knew how to dance, he already grabbed her hand, and now they were at the middle of the dance floor under the blinking light.

An arm around her waist, Lee leaned forward and whispered that she could not dance. Follow my steps and you would be fine, the Dread Pirate Roberts smiled at her as they moved along the music. Before she realized it, her sweat had all gone. Lee danced along with him freely and happily. You’re a good dancer, she told him. So are you, princess, he answered. Who said you cannot dance?

You called me Princess? I am flattered by your words, Lee blushed. No one ever called me Princess before, except my father, Lee thought to herself. Yes, the Dread Pirate Roberts responded, because you’re beautiful even with a mask on. What else can I say or comment?

Whatever, thanks, Lee politely replied to his compliment. Tears almost welled up in her eyes. She tried to fight it back. She did not want this stranger she had never met before saw her weakness—easy to drop tears or anything. She had to stay strong and fierce and independent and that was what she was made of.

By the way, why were you looking at me? The Dread Pirate Roberts enquired out of blue.

No, no, I did not, Lee declined, I was looking for my friend who was supposed to be here.

Are you serious?

No. No. I mean, yes, i am. Wait! As if suddenly remembered Lee asked, are you saying “you’re beautiful” to every woman you met? Did you say the same things to that Cinderrella woman?

Who is Cinderrella woman? The Dread Pirate Roberts confused.

The woman you talked to earlier? Lee sounded jealous.

Wait a minute! You just said that you did not look at me, how did you know i was talking to a woman?

Guilty charged. Lee had no word to respond.

Awkward silence fell between them.

Seeing things were not going anywhere, the Dread Pirate Roberts continued, that's ok. You dont need to answer me for now, and maybe you were looking for your friend whom I do not know. But if you did not look at me, I would not have notice that there is such a beautiful girl like you in this boring ball.

Thanks again for your nice compliment, Lee smiled.

Now, let’s go back to your previous question about that beautiful Cinderrella woman. She is my sister, the Dread Pirate Roberts revealed.

Oh, your sister. I thought she was... Lee paused and managed to swallow back what she was going to spill.

She was...what? The Dread Pirate Roberts inquired.

Nothing, Lee said.

Seriously, I am glad that I found you, the Dread Pirate Roberts exclaimed. This charitable masquerade ball is damn boring. Why don’t they just make it a normal event that has no costume or mask or anything?

You think it is boring, Lee repeated as if to make sure.

The Dread Pirate Roberts nodded, somehow yes, but not anymore. You don’t think so, do you?

I don’t think like you do. I think it is fun because we won’t know whom we are dancing with or talking to with our mask on. We can talk whatever we want to another person behind their mask and we won’t worry that the other would find out about us.

You think so? The Dread Pirate Roberts asked.

Yes, Lee confirmed.

Now the music stopped. Both of Lee and the Dread Pirate Roberts stood in front of one another in the center of the hall. They looked at one another straight into each other eyes.

Do you want to see my face? The Dread Pirate Roberts offerred.

Lee reluctantly nodded a Yes.

Slowly, the Dread Pirate Roberts took off his mask. It was YONG, Lee exclaimed…

"Wake up," someone is knocking on the door of Lee's room.

Awaken by the noise, Lee opens her eyes and walks towards the door. Before she opens it, she looks through the peephole to make sure the person knocking is someone she knows. It is Sothea.

I hate you, Lee tells herself when she realizes that what she was experiencing was a mere dream—a dream of her being Cinderella and Yong a prince. Why do you have to interrup my dream? Why do you have to show up at this time? Lee murmurs alone.

“I have something to tell you”, Sothea announces.

“What urgent news that you have to tell me now?” Lee slips him a smile.

“There is a charitable masquerade ball this evening at the school, do you want to join with me?” Sothea requests.

“Wait a minute,” Lee stops him, “you’re asking me to join a charitable masquerade ball this evening?”

“Yes,” sothea says, “is there something wrong?”

“No,” Lee answers, “it is just coincident”, Lee tells herself.

“What coincidence? Is there anybody else asking you to this event?” Sothea looks suspected.

“No,” Lee hurries to correct what she just said. “How come? I know no one here.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Are you coming then?” Sothea repeats his question.

“Yes, I would love too,” Lee says, “but I have no dress.”

“Don't worry about that. My friend has. She can borrow you.”

“That’s awesome. I will go.”

“That's great, I will see you then.”
“But... are you…?” Before she manages to finish her question, Sothea has already left.

To be continued….

I'm A Runner: Haruki Murakami

This novelist uses his running to make his books top-notch.

By

Yishane Lee

Published

October 3, 2005

Why do you run, when did you start?

I began running on an everyday basis after I became a writer. As being a writer requires sitting at a desk for hours a day, without getting some exercise you'd quickly get out of shape and gain weight, I figured. That was 22 years ago. I also took it as a chance to quit smoking. You see, I became rapidly healthier since the time I became a writer. You may call it rather a rare case. But because of that, I weigh now just as much as I weighed back then.

Before I became a writer, I was running a jazz bar in the center of Tokyo, which means that I worked in filthy air all the time late into the night. I was very excited when I started making a living out of my writing, and I decided, "I will live in nothing but an absolutely healthy way." Getting up at 5 a.m. every morning, doing some work first, then going off running. It was very refreshing for me.

I have always liked running, so it wasn't particularly difficult to make it a habit. All you need is a pair of running shoes and you can do it anywhere. It does not require anybody to do it with, and so I found the sport perfectly fits me as a person who tends to be independent and individualistic.

How much do you run? Do you do straight mileage or any speedwork?

My goal was always doing about 60K per week: 6 days a week, 10K a day on average. Some days I run more, some days less. It depends. If it is not before a race, I run at a moderate pace at which I feel easy and comfortable. If it's training for a race, I sometimes focus on speed. But otherwise I usually just try to enjoy myself at a casual pace.

I should add, though, that since I also enter triathlons these days, I have added biking and swimming to my workouts. As such, I am now running only 3 or 4 days a week.

You are moving to Boston soon and have run in Boston before. Where do you usually run in Boston?

I've run the Boston Marathon 6 times before. I think the best aspects of the marathon are the beautiful changes of the scenery along the route and the warmth of the people's support. I feel happier every time I enter this marathon.

As far as my experience goes, Boston is the most appealing marathon.

(Of course the New York City Marathon is also very exciting, but in a different way). The challenge is how to set your pace. It's tricky because there are many downhill slopes in the beginning part of the course, so I never know how fast I should go. No matter how many times I challenge the same course, there has never been a time I thought to myself "Yeah, that was the way to do it!"

However, no matter how challenging the race was, crossing the finish line at the Copley Plaza, going to Legal Sea Foods restaurant, eating steamed cherry stones and drinking Samuel Adams beer is one of the happiest moments of my life.

I used to run along the Charles River when I lived in the area before. I really like the course, though it can get really cold in the winter.

Where is your favorite run anywhere in the world, and why?

My favorite run anywhere in the world? I recall when I lived on a small island in Greece. Because I was the only jogger on that island there was inevitably someone who would call out, saying "Why are you running?", "Isn't that bad for your heath?" or "Don't you want to stop for a shot of Ouzo?" It was quite amusing.

I read that you ran every day while writing Kafka on the Shore. Do you work out plots and dialogue while running? How does running affect your writing? 

I try not to think about anything special while running. As a matter of fact, I usually run with my mind empty. However, when I run empty-minded, something naturally and abruptly crawls in sometime. That might become an idea that can help me with my writing.

However, in general, I try to get my mind relaxed and rested while running by not thinking about anything. I run to cool down my nerves that get heated up while writing.

Do you listen to jazz or any other kind of music?

I normally listen to rock while running. I found that the simpler the rhythm, the better. For example, Creedence Clearwater Revival, John Mellencamp or The Beach Boys. I record this music on MD disks so I can listen to them with my Walkman on my run. There was this one time when I tried a 100K ultramarathon, I was tempted to listen to Mozart's Magic Flute from the beginning to the end, but I gave up on it in the middle of the course. It was exhausting. Since then I found opera not to be a good fit for running.

You have expressed interest in running the New York Marathon again. What was the experience of running New York like for you before? What were the best and worst parts of the New York race?

I've run the New York City Marathon 3 times so far. The great thing about the marathon is the fact that I can do sight seeing in that unique and gigantic city while running on my own two feet, taking all that time, to my heart's content.

On the course, there are truly amazing and diverse areas; each with its unique people and cultures–this scene and feel is only possible in New York. Also, I hit my best time in the New York City Marathon.

There is one problem with the marathon, though. You have to put up with the chill while waiting at the starting line, shivering, for a long time in the frigid breeze.

As someone who has run a marathon a year for over 20 years, will you continue to do so? How has the experience of running (in marathons and daily) changed for you over the years?

As long as possible, I would really like to complete one marathon per year. Though my time has been slowing down as I get older, it has become a very important part of my life.

One aspect that I have gained from running in the past 22 years that has most pleased me is that it has helped me develop respect about my own physical being.

I think to realize this is very important for all human beings.

To have such respect for your own body makes it possible to do the same for others. If more people on the earth shared this same feeling, there should be no terrorism or wars. Obviously, to our great disappointment, things are not that simple, that much I understand.

The most important qualities to be a fiction writer are probably imaginative ability, intelligence, and focus. But in order to maintain these qualities in a high and constant level, you must never neglect to keep up your physical strength.

Without a solid base of physical strength, you can't accomplish anything very intricate or demanding. That's my belief. If I did not keep running, I think my writing would be very different from what it is now.

Coffee with Love by Jet (Chapter Eleven: April Snow)

Early morning breeze which flew in throw tiny hole of Yong's window made his naked body freeze. Not being able to stand the coldness, Yong woke up even he was still slightly drunk. Hangover hadn't attacked him as yet. Not when he was fully awake. With his hands as support, Yong tried to stand up and walked toward the window to stop the chilly morning breeze coming in. Step by step, unsteadily, here and there, he got to the window, still with his eyes closed. Left hand on window sill, Yong directed his right hand to shut his glass-framed window.

"It is not supposed to be that cold, not in this particular place and in particular month," Yong told himself when his hand felt the coldness of the breeze. "It is truly bone-chilling cold. It is like in the winter. What the hell is that!" Yong tried to open his eyes to observe what was really going on right now. What changed that made the weather this cold. Yong blinked his eyes for a few times so as to signal his brain that he was about to look at something. With both of his hands on the window sill and still naked, Yong looked through the window to see a field of white snow covering on top of everything. Cars in the parking lots. Buildings. Houses. Kid's playgrounds. Trees. The bridge. The far-reached mountains. And every single object.

"It is unbelievable," Yong exclaimed. "I don't believe it's snow outside. At least not in this tropical and volcanic area, and not in April. Hawaii has no winter to begin with. Hawaii's weather is mild all year round, though there are rains, but not snow." Yong shook his hand several times, and opened his eyes again to make sure he was not tricked. Again, the field of snow appeared in front of him remained unchanged. The sun was nowhere to be seen. The thick cloud kept the sun away, which made the snowy ice pleasant from not being melted away by the sun. A flock of Hawaiian goose, about 13 of them, flew pass Yong to somewhere he did not know to get away from this madness. This 360 degree change of weather.

Still there was no traffic outside. Neither cars nor buses. It seemed this place had been abandoned the night earlier before the snow came. And only Yong did remain in this town. Hands around his freezing body, Yong turned back to his closet to look for a warm clothes.

"This is unacceptable," Yong whispered to himself when he was scanning through his closet's items to seek for something warm that fitted this cold weather. "This isn't real. Totally an illusion. April snow! Who is going to believe it? If I tell someone in my home country about it, they would laugh their teeth out." Searching back and forth, there was no warm clothes to be found. There were only short pants, light weight trousers, summer shirts, t-shirts, flip-flops, suits, boots, hats and summer scarves in the closet. That's all of what he possessed. In this nice and warm place, how could anyone store warm and heavy clothes in their closet. This idea had never come to everyone's mind. Plus it was a waste of money to have spent on those items when they were not necessary. No gloves, no winter jacket, no heat wears, no hat, no winter boots.

Leaving no choice, Yong put on two trousers, one grey one black, one t-shirt, one long sleeve shirt, and one light weight sweater. After having himself stocked and warm enough, Yong walked toward the sofa and took the air-conditioning remote control on the table to adjust the temperature in the room up to 77 degree Fahrenheit (25 degree Celsius). After a moment of thought, Yong took another remote control on the table to turn on his Samsung LED Flat Screen television to check if there was news about this changing weather. No weather record news on this. Not in CNN nor BCC. Giving up, Yong turned off the telly and walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of hot and bitter black coffee. He turned on the heat to boil water, placed a Gorilla coffee cup on the kitchen table, put three spoonful of coffee into the cup, and stood there waiting the water to boil.

As if awake, Yong thought about what he did last night that made him so miserable. The whisky bottle and the glass were on the floor. He asked himself if he had to drink so much alcohol? What made him do this? Sudden headache attacked him. There was like something inside his head was jumping. The more he concentrated on the jump the more it hit him hard in his head. At this point, he decided to quit thinking for a bit. He told himself he would think about what bothered him again when his head was clear.

The water was boiling in the kettle. The steam flew the spout, hot and burnt. Yong pored the bubbling water into his coffee cup, stirred his coffee, and sipped it. The warmth of the coffee made its way through his mouth to his throat and onto his stomach, which warmed him up a bit. And now, he felt hungry when the phone on the floor was ringing…

"Hello," Yong reaches out to his phone and answers.

"Good morning, son!" Yong mother's voice is on the other line, normal and pleasant. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," Yong opens his eyes.

"Is it a sunny day over there?" his mother inquires.

"Y…," Yong hesitates a few second, only after he see the eastern sun outside of his window. "Yes…! Oh--"

"What is it?" His mother demands an answer to his exclamation.

"No. That was nothing."

"Are you doing okay?"

"I'm fine, at most."
"Look, let me get you straight to the point then," Yong mother suddenly changes her tone of voice.
"Alright, fire it out then," Yong interrupted.
"What did you say to Monica that made her really upset?"
"That was nothing." And he drops the line.

Yong is now sitting on his sofa, and still, naked. He shakes his head for realising that it was just a dream. The dream that seems almost true. Yet, it is just a dream, which is good. Thanks to his mom who woke him from dreaming. If it was not her, maybe he would fall deep into the dream and being lost.

He is thinking about getting a hot shower to shake of the headache left by hangover. In the shower room, Yong tries to recall what he said to Monika. He told her to stop messing around with him and telling everyone that she was his girlfriend. Of course, she was, but it was a few years ago. He also told her to go back and find her other half that is not him because he is eyeing on someone else now at the moment. Monika asked him who, he did not answer, but told her to accept the truth. The truth is he has no affection for her, and even the truth is hard to accept she has to take it no matter what. She has to move on and start a new and happy life.

Getting out of the restroom, Yong looks at the mirror to see his face pale and dead. The face doesn't look like his face. He touches his face over and over again to make sure he feels its shape. True, it is his face though it was not very fresh. He looks deep into the mirror now, and the scene in his dream appears in front of him. The white snow outside his window. The April snow that come out of nowhere. The April snow that should not be here at all in warm tropical place like Hawaii. But who cares! Who can direct the dream the way it wanted? People dream of anything all the time, strange and indigestible. People even dream of somebody they have never seen before, and in fact, that person does really exist on human earth. Anything can happen in the dream one can't expect.

"Where are you now?" Yong asks the other him in the mirror. "Are you there in the April snow?"

Headache attacks him as he leaves the restroom for the kitchen for a cup of hot coffee to freshen himself. He quits thinking by now. No matter how hard he keeps thinking about her whereabouts, he still can't get the answer to it. She is so mysterious. She shows up when she wants to show up, and disappears up in the air in no time when she sets her mind into it.

to be continued...