Monday, June 02, 2014


So, i saw this idea from tumblr and i thought it was pretty neat to write about.
'imagine having numbers on your wrist that ticks down to when you’ll meet your soulmate.'
Heres my rendition on it, it's not my best and its a little rushed but i guess it's ok.

I barely had any sleep that night. I was frantically editing a wedding video for a client, constantly re-playing the 4 minute video for about six hours. In between the rapid clicking of  my mouse and the excessive sighs, I’d take a glance at the numbers on my wrist. Eight hours till I meet my soulmate. It collided with the meeting with a client, though. I had persisted my client to re-schedule the meeting but she was hard headed and insisted it to be at 11 in the morning at her silly office. Bitch. Although it hardly happens, It was possible to miss out your soulmate. I didn’t want to risk that.

I left my apartment at 10 in the morning with carefully applied make up and a white dress. The journey towards the city was plesant. Strangers who glanced at my numbers would look up at me and smile. A good friend of mine called me up to tell me good luck. “It’ll be a magical moment, I promise,” she said. An old lady whom sat by me in the train even gave me a word of advice,”Don’t be surprised when he turns out to be a man 10 years older than you.” Her veiny wrists were clear of numbers.

By 1050 A.M, I was seated in a squeaky leather chair in my client’s office as I waited for her. I had 15 minutes before I met my soulmate. Was my soulmate someone who worked in an office? I wrapped my watch around the numbers. I had to stop looking, it was making me nervous. I think it was a little past eleven when I got tired of waiting for my client and walked out of the office to use the toilet. I didn’t want to look at the numbers or my watch; I wanted it to be a surprise.

As I walked to the nearest toilet, I wondered if my soulmate had nice teeth. “Uh, miss,” a deep voice uttered from behind. I turned, and as I did that, my arm hit his hand, causing the cup of coffee he was holding to spill all over my dress. “Wow,” was all I could afford to say as I looked down at my ruined dress. I looked up at the man. Was he my....? I then nervously pulled down the band of my watch. My numbers read 0000 before it disappeared, dissolving into my skin.

He was staring at his wrist as well. He gazed back at me, “...Soulmate?” he muttered. I think I saw his eyes glimmer. “I guess?” I smiled. “Man, I was just going to ask if you had change for ten bucks. But I guess I got a better deal,” he beamed.


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labels: fiction, outfits, significant other