My Friend’s Coming! (a short story)

It has been a while since my last post, but let me be honest with you, I have no idea what to post. Over these past few days, I have been feeling lonely and sad. So one evening, I was browsing through some instrumental music on YouTube, and there was one piece of music, which in the end, gave me the inspiration to write a short story I have not written in a while. Thus, I opened a blank document, and started scribbling away. I wrote a flash fiction. I call it My Friend‘s Coming.

My Friend’s Coming

He is coming. I know he is going to come because he is my best friend. Best friends don’t say they’re coming and in the end don’t end up showing. They come. That is what friends are all about.

He will come.

I was so happy when he rang me up and asked me whether I wanted to hang out. I went for it because I knew he would come around and spend time with me and not spend time with his ridiculous friends. His friends treat him like dirt. Friends who betray one another if the other is in trouble are not friends.

However, I do not do that. I am his friend and he will come. I know he will. No doubt in my mind that he will. He will not make me wait. Friends don’t do that, do they?

Three hours had passed, and teardrops began to fall as I watched the snowflakes fall from the skies as if they were signaling me to leave, telling me I have done enough waiting.

Friends don’t leave.

They wait for one another to be right there for each other. Friends do that. That is what friends are for. No matter where you are, they will wait until you return because they care, and love you. Friends are like family. They understand you, and stand by you whenever you need someone or you’re going through some difficulties. They know what to say, and how to make you feel better, to make you see the sunshine through rainy days, to make you happy and laugh, to make you realise life is nothing without them.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I looked at the screen; my heart skipped a beat. There was a message from him. I reread the message to see whether I’m dreaming or hallucinating. It said, ‘I’m here.’

I turned around to see whether I could find him. Was he hiding in the bushes a few blocks from here? Or was he standing behind that red car? Or was he the one waving at me from a distance?

Smiling to myself, I waved back and began walking towards him. I knew he’d come because he is my friend. And friends don’t break promises.

From a distance, his face reminded me of cherry blossoms that bloomed that season. His personality was cheerful like those pink flowers. Their colours; red to show his kindness, pink to show his humbleness, and white to show his pure personality.

These type of friends are found at every corner of your life. You just need to know where to find them. If you can’t, don’t worry they will show up. I promise you that. Even though they have flaws, remember, so do you! And if they are willing to accept that, then you know what it means.

I hope you enjoy this short story. Alex is signing out.

Copyright (©) of alexwritesandsings

Dianna’s Last Poem (short story)

She was in seventh heaven.

The sight of it gave her an utter shock. She found what she had been searching for this past few months. Her hands fidgeted as she brushed away the layer of dust on an old heart-shaped box, and her fingertips traced through the big box, remembering how she used to love writing poetry. She would write them on pieces of papers and stuffed them inside the box.

The big box was filled with memories. Inside it, there were stacks of grubby papers, large and thick files full of numerous, what-looked-like old drafts, a few masked classics and notebooks that inspired her life. 

A book stood out.

Dianna grasped a torn-lavender notebook that had the words, ‘My Poems’ plastered on the cover. The texture made her realise that although her life had ups and downs, so did the book. The ever, long lasting memories stayed within these pages of the small-sized book.  She took a deep breath, taking in the ancient smell, as she recognised  very well what it was. Lavenders. 

She recalled that time, where she pretended the notebook was a child of her own, and the bottle of a lavender perfume was soap that washed the stains of sadness and anger of how she felt. Gripping a back cover tightly, her eyes fell on a particular poem. Her heart felt sank, hands quivering, and tears were forming in her eyes, as she listened to herself reading the poem out loud. 

Date: 26th March 2015

A guy whom I liked for three years, 
Reminded me of a one-sided love,
And as happy as I was, he confessed,
Tears of joy streamed down from my eyes,
Like the fountain of youth.

As amazing as he was,
Had made me realise
I did not love him like that
Only as a friend.

Couldn’t make the right decision, 
Oh, I hurt him many, several times,
Tears shed for a long time after
Ending it for good.

Three years had passed
My mind was still a jumble
Feeling like I needed him back,
Begged for him to come back to me,
But what I didn’t know;
He had moved on.


That is all. Thank you for reading.

Alex is signing out.

Copyright (©) of alexwritesandsings