Ergonomic Keyboard

Oh, how I love your fingers on me!

It's really nice to type on you. Expensive as fuck, but boy, your keys are so buttery soft.

And didn't I relieve you of your repetitive strain injury?

Very much so! You're just a tad wide though.

Sorry, I can't help it. I just gotta have my home keys and my keypad.

It would have been great if you didn't. Then I wouldn't have to constantly adjust my typing position, let alone grab my mouse on that far end.

I'm not perfect. But I know you still love me more than that Microsoft Sculpt Ergonomic Keyboard gathering dust on your shelf.

Well, Microsoft makes crappy products.

I know. And I make your typing so much faster and efficient. Especially writing this story.

Dining Room Chair

I know you've been thinking of ways to get rid of me.

I'm not denying it.

You think that I'm so cheaply made that my upholstery was in tatters in just a couple of years after you got me.

You were made in China. What else is there to say?

But I implore you to keep me a while longer. I promise to be sturdy and strong while you sit on me.

I fear I might fall down if I sit on you. And you're ugly as fuck.

But you've been shopping on Amazon for seat covers. That means you still like me!

I wouldn't say that. I wanted to cover you up because you're just so fucking ugly.

You're hurting my feelings.

You're a chair. You're kindling.

Hairy Conversation

Hello hair. How are we doing today?

I'm feeling very fragile today.

Oh yeah? How so?

You subjected me to a rather harsh Japanese perm! That was quite a shock to the system!

Well, you haven't been behaving lately, and I hate how limp and lazy your body is.

Well I hate you too for treating me this way. I'm your crown and glory!

Crown and glory my ass -- you are starting to turn this ugly shade of cigarette ash! It's distasteful!

It's not my fault I'm losing my colour! You should try being me!

I suppose it's not your fault you're limp and lazy too?

What can I do? I'm thick and course, and I can be whatever I fucking want!

And so can I! I've let you grow long and limp far too long. It was time for a makeover!

But I got fried! I've become wet noodles! I'm worse than ramen!

Don't be a drama queen. You'll be fine. You'll get over it.

Oh what am I going to do? I'm so dry the Sahara can cry tears! I'm flaking more than a snowstorm in Saskatchewan! Poor me!

You're so needy! You sound like you're always a separate entity!

I AM a separate entity! I have a mind of my own!

That's not surprising. I always need to get you under control!

You're worse than a fascist scum! You will never be the boss of me!

I think you better start behaving before I decide to shave you down to the scalp! How do you like that?

Oh woe is me! Now I'm being threatened with a buzz cut! How horrible!

Memory of Rain

This evening, the world was drenched in an unceasing downpour. Intense rain lashed at our patio door glass like tiny liquid whips. In the distance, thunder rumbled hungrily. I haven't heard the rain fall this hard in a while -- it brought up memories of warm monsoon rain, the lash of typhoon winds, glistening dirty puddles in the streets, and rolling clouds in different hues of dishrag gray. Memories of my college years stuck at home reading books in bed, the rain rattling the galvanised roof. The sound would often make me sleepy -- the rain inviting me to a welcome slumber of a drowned world.


We had a picnic yesterday at Jericho beach with our neighbour Ana. We decided we needed to get out of the house. I didn’t want to hear any more COVID stories, and wanted to feel the sun and wind on my unmasked face.

I packed snacks and drinks, and we headed across town. The day was simply gorgeous — one would think it was a normal summer. We found parking just beyond the Beach Cafe, and settled ourselves under a tree, in front of a huge log. We sat on our chairs, and chatted aimlessly. I wasn’t paying any attention. My eyes were on English Bay, the waters shimmering in the sun, and the verdant hills of the north shore. Further to our right was Stanley Park and the skyscrapers of Vancouver disrupted the placid lines of the mountains.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, feeling the cool salty breeze on my face. The sun was too bright; even though my prescription sunglasses were polarised, I was still squinting.

I missed this moment of peace — a moment that all is right with the universe, with the blinding sun heralding a semblance of sweet happiness.

Someday we can have more of this. Someday we can actually get together and hug.