Ep.1: A is not for Excellence

If there was one thing that irked Capital A more than her husband’s laziness or her son’s sassiness, it was her next-door neighbour’s preposterousness. Roman E, who was nothing but a three-toothed stroke, acted as if the Alphabet district revolved around him, consistently drawing attention to himself by shouting “Excellente!” or “Egregious!” whenever he got the chance. How come such a loser got nominated for the Letter of the History award and not her? For goodness sake, she was the A, the Alpha, the Leader of all Letters. If they’re going to leave her out of the glory parade, then they leave her no choice but to take the matter into her own hands.

“Let’s face it: he deserves it,” said Small Case C as he flipped to the next page of the Lettered book he was reading.

“Whose side are you on?”

“On the side of justice.”

“Then you’re not my son.”

C closed his book. “Well, since you’re not going to stop bothering me with your rant, I’ll explain it in terms you can understand how you currently compare with Roman E. Maybe then you can shut up.”

The cheeky brat, how dare he compare her to that loser! Of course, no matter how one looked at it, she was much better than E in every regard.

“For a start, you said that Roman E thinks that the Alphabet district revolves around him, right? Well, he thinks right.” C picked up a book from the pile he sat by and opened a random page. “Did you know?” he said, pointing to the page. “There’s no word in English that doesn’t have an E in it.”

Capital A clutched on her head. No way, it couldn’t be! Since when had that clown’s influence reached that far?

“I lied,” C said. “You fell for it.”

“YOU BRAT! Do you want to give me a heart attack?”

“Letters don’t have a heart,” C pointed out. “We’re just strokes pretending to live a hypothetical life.”

“Shut up! Don’t destroy the story’s credibility!”

“Well, on a more serious note, do you know what it means to be recognised as the Letter of History?”

“Isn’t the title given to the best Letter?”

“Right, best. But here’s the question: what kind of best?”

Capital A thought for a moment. It was a question she didn’t know the answer to. “ARGHGHGHGHGh! HOW COME I DON’T KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT DAMN IT!”

“Exposition time, I guess,” Small Case C muttered. “So troublesome.”

E the Magician

“Roman E knows how to work magic,” said Small Case C, bringing in his whiteboard.

“What do you mean by magic?”

“Here’s an example of how he does things.” Small Case C uncapped the marker and drew three letters.

Screenshot (4)

“Just appreciate the shapes,” he said. “And that’s you in the middle, by the way.”

Capital A took a moment to appreciate the shapes. The A was definitely looking like a dork on the board. “Right,” she said. “What’s that got to do with that clown?”

“In this word, you read out each of the three letters. Here, you, the A, are read out with a short, soft sound. Not that you can ever understand what I’m saying.”

“Carry on. Not that I can do anything about that mouth of yours.”

Small Case C shrugged. “Well, here comes the magic. Observe.” He scrawled a mark at the end of the word.

Screenshot (3)

“What’s that?” Capital A asked.

“That’s Roman E, invading your party.”

“What’re those things surrounding him? Feathers?”

“Oh, that’s called special effects. You see, he’s appearing out of nowhere, so there should be something that highlights his entrance.”

“Right…” What the kid was talking about, Capital A had no idea. “So, what’s he doing there?”

“Remember how I told you that you, the A, are read in a certain way? Well in this case, because of Roman E’s interference, you’ll be read differently, this time with a longer, stretched-out sound.”

“Is there any difference between this word here and the one before?”

“Of course, they mean entirely different things. The previous Word represents an item of clothing, while this one here represents an abstract feeling that corresponds to what you are feeling right now. See, magic.”

Still, there was nothing impressive about it. “So, what’s your point?”

Small Case C pointed his marker at the highlighted E. “Don’t you find it strange?” he said, exasperated. “This guy here is not pronounced at all! Rather, he’s putting you, his eternal rival, under the spotlight. Why would a Letter want to do that?”

Now it clicked. Indeed, it was strange. After all, Letters are meant to be pronounced, and there was no greater pride for a Letter than to be read out. Why would that clown want to do otherwise, it didn’t make any sense.

“There’s only one explanation,” Small Case C said. “He’s putting his pride aside in order to get more exposure within Texts. So he does things like change how other alphabets are pronounced, sneakily insert himself in Words to change meanings, and can even influence me and Glorious G of all things. What else he’s planning to do, I’ve no idea. He’s probably having a toast and a good laugh right now as we speak.”

Mindblowing. The guy wasn’t just a clown, he was a plotting, sneaky, magician clown. Why would he go so far and pull such ridiculous stunts? What was it in there for him? The answer this time was clear. Of course, to get the Letter of History title.

And Capital A had just realised something. “At this rate, he’ll overthrow my position as the alpha.”

“Well, that’s not far-fetched,” said Small Case C, putting away the whiteboard. “That might actually be his next plan.”

No. Someone had to stop that guy. Forget the Letter of History award, the Alphabet residents are in mortal danger.

Small Case C went back to his books. “So, are you going to leave me alone now?”

Capital A dragged her son by the ear. “This is not the time to be reading. Stand up! We’re going to stop that guy’s invasion, together!”

Recruitment Commence!

Big Case B looked from his wife to his son. “So, what’s the deal?”

“Ask her,” mumbled Small Case C.

Big Case B took a deep breath, and looked at Capital A in the eye. “Tell me, it’s not about my coffee habits, is it?”

There was a moment of silence. “We’re going to stop Roman E,” Capital A finally said. “Once and for all.”

Big Case B wiped off sweat from his forehead. “I knew you were going to address my lifestyle one of these days, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon. You scared me for a minute there.”

Capital A donned on sunglasses and a trench coat. “Just wait, I’ll be on your case AFTER this one.”

Small Case C covered his face with his hand. “I’m going back, being with you lot is embarrassing.”

Capital A rested her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Son, who pays your school fees?”

“Mum, don’t start that again.”

“Listen, it’s my money you live on. You gotta help me, or no school for you tomorrow.”

Big Case B shifted in his seat. “Honey, you shouldn’t be saying that as a parent. We must not show our adorable son that side of us.”

Capital A paused for a moment. “You’re right. Carrots work better than sticks.”

“Now that’s my wife!”

“Let’s try this one more time.” Capital A faced her son again. “Son, what was it again you said you wanted so badly last year?”

Small Case C backed away slowly. “Erm… TWT?”

“What’s that?” Capital A and Big Case B asked simultaneously.

“Erm, Twinkle Telescope. You’re not going to say you’ll buy me one now, are you?”

Capital A smirked. “You bet.”

“Mum, you know why I wanted that so badly last year? THE ZODIAC SIGNS WERE IN TOWN! I really wanted to see them but you can’t without a TWT. Too bad, you refused for no apparent reason.”

“Who said reasons have to be apparent? Mine aren’t.”

“Well, good for you, because getting me one NOW won’t work for you.”

Capital A thought for a moment. She needed a change in strategy here.

“Name your price,” she said. “I’ll get you anything.”


“Anything. Within the boundary of reason, that is.”

Small Case C hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure? You’re not going to go back on your word later or something?”

“Who’re you taking your mother as?” Capital A gave him a thumb up, and her smile sparkled. “I don’t break promises, my Pride as the Alpha doesn’t allow it.”

“You’ve done exactly that so many times I don’t trust you anymore,” said Small Case C.

Big Case B sat forward in anticipation. “What about me? What will I get?”

“Oh. Coffee, or something. Right!” Capital A clapped her hands. “We’re done with the Recruitment Stage! Now on to the next mission, underlings: Reconnaissance!”

“Ay, Captain,” shouted father and son. Now that Capital A was in her usual (bossy) mood, there was no room for disobedience.

Capital A spread out a map on the table. “Listen here,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “This is the plan.”

“What is it?” Big Case B whispered back.

Capital A looked at her son. “I believe you can read maps.”

He nodded. “Yes, madam.”

Capital A smiled proudly. “Now, carefully, look at this one here, and tell me what you think.”

Small Case C closed his eyes, and sighed. “I don’t even need to look at it twice to form my opinion. This is not a map, madam. You’ve been duped with a theatrical release poster of the upcoming film Dot the Lonely in the 3D Maze.”

There was a long silence. “It looks like a map, doesn’t it?” Capital A finally said, picking up the sheet and giving it a closer look.

“Maybe it does, if you’ve never seen a real map in your life.” He gave the map a closer look. “Though I admit, they did a good job in replicating the complexity of maps for the 3D Maze here. I must see this film.”


“Mum, let’s just forget about all this.”

“You want me to give up now, after I’ve come this far?”

“No, you haven’t come any far, just let it go while you can.”

Capital A donned on a beanie hat. “Don’t underestimate me, brat. If Plan A isn’t working, then it’s time for Plan AA.”

“Ahem.” Big Case B cleared his throat. “Don’t you mean Plan B, honey?”

“Plan AA. Plan B is our last resort.”

Big Case B gave out a disappointed sigh. “Do you hate me that much?”

Capital A chose to ignore the question. “Underlings! Due to that rascal Double V’s, er, cowardly interference, we are now discarding our original plan and will henceforth follow Plan AA.” She paused. “And may I inform you now, before I forget, that our new plan doesn’t involve reconnaissance.”

“What?” said father and son together.

“Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. Reconnaissance is an integral part of warfare and so on BUT!” She raised a fist for emphasis. “It is an undisputable fact that direct attack is what war is all about.”


“Honey, Roman E is a formidable enemy. If we take him lightly, we will be obliterated in an instant.”

The smirk on Capital A’s face silenced any more opposition.

“Now we’re talking like a team,” she said. “I look forward to your full cooperation.”

Father and son glanced at each other.

“I hate you,” said Small Case C.

“You’ve said that 2891 times that it’s starting to grow on me.”

Big Case B wiped sweat off his forehead. “Was it a joke then? Are we not going to scout Roman E?”

“I was serious when I said that we are going straight for an attack, but there’s no need to worry, it won’t be like any other direct attack. I gave this mission a lot of thought.”

Big Case B perked up. “I like the sound of that,” he said, leaning back in his couch. “Although I don’t have a clue what you’re concocting, I think I’m starting to look forward to it now.”

“And so you should be,” said Capital A, chuckling. “For we are going to invade Roman E, IN HIS HOUSE!”

(To be continued…)

Chronicles of the ABC Family


Far, far away, in a hypothetical land inhibited by signs, marks and symbols; in the modern, vibrant neighbourhood of the Alphabets, in a two-dimensional house of two rooms and a basement, there lived the ABC Family.

It was a very troublesome family.

Capital A, the mother, was capitalistic in all of her handling of life. She made sure she knew about everything she could know about, insisted in knowing about everything she could not know about, and pulled on her hypothetical hair when her neurones worked too much. Friends and family often advised her to relax, or else she would eventually turn like her father Z, who was being hospitalised due to anorexia.

Big Case B was not into domestic life, or life in general. He had a nice, big mug that held good amount of coffee, and a daily delivery of the Numbered Newspaper, and a comfy chair, and a big belly, and someone else that ran his life better than he could. That someone else was often his wife, but on bad days he could always rely on his younger brother J or, if worse came to worse, his adorable son Small Case C. So even though he was not enthusiastic about his life, he could not hate it either.

Adorable Small Case C was a devil, just one not in plain sight. He went to a school in the neighbourhood of Numbers, and so learnt how to read and write the alphabets, which was unprecedented in the Alphabet District since Letters were not meant to read themselves. The poor lad, if only everyone just left him alone with his Lettered books and thoughts. But people kept coming to him for trouble, and so trouble he always gave them back.

Life for these three was full of sticks, mayhem and the occasional fallacies. Not a day would pass without a problem befalling, rumours flying, or coffee finishing. However, in spite of the difficulties, they stuck together through it all, through the ebbs and the laws, the consonants and the vowels, trusting and loving each other no matter the mistakes. A true family they were.

Unless K happened to be somewhere nearby, but that is a tale of another time.

This here is the chronicles of the ABC Family, a contemporary domestic tale of alphabetical drama. Presented.

Bedtime Stories 1*

Once upon a time there were you. You thought highly of yourself. You thought that you were…


One day, you thought to yourself:

” Hey…


and decided you might as well live differently, thinking…


And so you started it all by telling you’re friends, as well as anyone you’d just met, this…


declaring, once asked to explain yourself, this…


Of course, being the genius you were, you asserted that you were among the first type.

So you did this…


And, in shady places, played this…


You declared rebellion against the society by giving out this speech…


And, in a letter, said this to the Queen…


You refused to attend school because, duh…


And hated maths especially because, well…


And, all the while, you were thinking you were being cool when, in fact, you were just being…


Until one day, while you were in the middle of hanging up these posters on the streets…


and seducing innocent pedestrians by telling them this…


with this kind of smile plastered on your face…


The police came to get you, and you couldn’t say anything in your defence except this…


with this smile still on your face…


You thought it would be amusing, but sadly…


So you were taken away, and the last thing we heard of you you sent us a letter saying…



And you lived miserably ever after.

Sweet Dreams.

What? Moral of the story?


Or maybe this…


In any case: Kids, be nice at home.

*disclaimer: I do not own any of the images used to illustrate this tragic tale**. All the images (and many more) are currently saved on my very personal mobile phone where they occasionally serve as my background beauties. All intellectual properties belong to their respective creators, including this story which belongs to me.

**the aforementioned tragic tale is (probably) fictional. Any resemblance to real life individuals, institutions or incidents is (probably) coincidental. Any offence taken by the use of the second person viewpoint is (most likely) intentional.

Dear My 22 year-old self

Hope by the time you read this you are still alive, well and kicking. This is your 21-year-old self’s letter for you to read and respond before the next new year. I’m sure you’d have experienced many things by then, so I hope you can show your-still-green-self how much you have grown and answer the following questions:

1) What is the greatest conclusion I will come up with?

2) Does is worth it to feel lost? Where will it lead me?

3) By how much will my social interactions improve?

4) Which will come first, the next chapter of Hunter x Hunter or Super Smash Bros.?

5) How’s your book going? Will it be finished by then?

6) What is the thing you can’t get rid off in your head right now?

7) What is the most impressive l news of 2014?

8) What is the most awesome story I will read/watch in 2014?

9) Will there be a special encounter?

10) I hope my uni work isn’t lagging behind…

I’m expecting great answers, although by the time you’ll be reading this I’m already you (… hopefully, provided my body doesn’t get hijacked or something).

Have a nice time. Enjoy everything, you’ll most likely experience them once.

Yours truly



Alone she stands

Upright, rigid. As still as the tree above her

Waiting, for Fate to arrive.

Waiting, agitated. Waiting, patiently.

She watches things pass her by~

In waves, like a muddled dream

Where people are rushing, towards Fate,

Where vehicles pursuit time;

Unlike her- accostumed to the ticks of the still time

And waiting… for what?

For Fate.

The tree above her has grown old, waiting.

The flowers bellow her wilted, waiting.

And she, in her turn, waits and waits

For Fate, which does not turn up.

Seconds tick by…

And she~

So she


To move on.

Chasing after Fate.

The beginning to something… or is it?

I wonder indeed. I am of the opinion that the first step is the most difficult to take. Or the most fun. Or the most foolish. Take your pick.

If you are here to gain something, then you are lost. Because as it stands, I too am lost. The world is large, the paths are many, and for each of the seven billion (and our other unintelligible neighbours) that currently live is a viewpoint by which they stand. So by all means, do your bidding. And so shall I. And let us not lead each other; let us only talk.

So here is the beginning… the start of something… random? I hope not. For there is some meaning to everything. I think.