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A Happy Story
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Francis and Elizabeth

I have been less than that, just like how I have been less many than anything.

Given any numbers, truth unfolds 25.

I just joined. I only have one regret; the uninspired career of my flying days. Wait I have two; that and perming my hair. No I have three; that and that and seducing someone's boyfriend. I have four. I have five. I have six...


No I wasn't breastfed when baby..

I want a nose job so badly.

Don't ask me if my life has any meaning.

The CDs don't make me happy.


I wanted to be like Buffy.

Superman made me sleepy.

Grew up watching Dawson's Creek.

I waited for Batman every week.


I could burn the ex's house.

When they're asleep and sound.

They weren't smart at all.

Were not exactly a Hugh Grant.


I could really become a rockstar.

Quit my job, get an American car.

My soul isn't sold to the devil.

The money I have isn't enough either.


Let me poke your heart n make a hole.

Let you pretend and I believe.

Your failure heart isn't my problem.

Trust me u'd still breathe.


My tragic mental term,

your mother's nationality.

Spain, India, Africa's animal kingdom.

I begin to lose perspective.


The Secret (book) tells nothing.

Your mind would keep hesitating.

To tell the angels stop working?

Let alone believing what u don't see.


My tumored intelligence and cancerous aspirations,

My 25 years of living,

My biological clock and my pornography,

My education and the holy book of way of life,

My big eyes and my right handiness,

My Laguna Beach marathon and my Nirvana's cassette,

My graduation and my blunt sarcasm,

My friend's rented novels and my athletic history,

My confused childhood and my English,

My prayers and my missing cat,

My kind of drugs and my London Bridge,

My goodness gracious and my rocket science,

My grammar and my clairvoyance,

My dark secrets and my juice processor,

My Louis Vuitton and my journey home,

My faith in Islam and my maths homework,

My best behaviour and my dumb neighbours,

My Johnny Depp and my sinking understanding,

My love notes and my date of birth,

My interpretation of going black and my civilization,

My lip balm and my Guns and Roses' years,

My discouraged talent and my betrayal,

My vagina and my sense of hearing,

My star sign and my vitamins,

My slim fingers and my love.

My God and my gosh,

My affection and my negligence,   

My hump my hump my hump my humps,

My page 32 and my tequila shots,

My private number and my flight time to Bandung,

My American Pie essay and my dead cells, 

My 55 years more to live and my second pillow,

My 24 years, My age of 25, My bullshit, My answer to life, My blackberry, My direction to TTDI park, My rainy days, My thumbdrive,

My old fashioned heart, My stolen diary, My freedom, My birthday


Previous short story:
A Happy Story
Next short story:
Francis and Elizabeth

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about the writer

Nina Chezter Sarif

A person, with nothing much to say, except to write
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