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Monday, October 06, 2014

香港民主運動之和平篇 ---- 2014年10月1日行記



香港的佔中運動,僵持到了第六天,到10月3日,在旺角和銅鑼灣街頭發生了多宗肢體碰撞事件。支持佔中和反佔中的市民,互相指罵,有人被打得頭破血流,場面混亂。這場民主抗爭運動,到底會如何發展下去,未可預料。

原來,開始的一段日子,是和平,理性,相互扶持,充滿愛心的…

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10月1日放假。今天走了8小時路,中午12時半到晚上8時半,從旺角走到尖沙咀,坐渡輪過海,再從中環走到銅鑼灣。人老了,這樣緩步走點路,到晚上居然感覺疲累。人雖累,但心中感動,覺得香港好可愛,希望在明天,因為香港有很好質素的年輕人!

同樣的感覺,只在2003年第一次七一遊行感受過。那回擠在一起遊行的主要是成年人;今天看到的,卻主要是年輕人。

先從旺角彌敦道講起吧。這條平日熙來攘往的幹道,從水渠道交接處放了些水馬路障,往南一段路只見行人,沒有了車輛。行人也不多,另外三數堆人散坐地上;其中有幾名黑衣少女蹲坐著,在幾張打開的傘上畫畫和寫字。途人好奇,上前照相,少女大方把筆遞上:「你想寫嘛?你想寫都可以寫喎!」我上前看,傘上寫道:「無論風雨怎麼打,自由仍然會開花!」

這就是香港的雨傘革命?

隨步往南走,不久便見彌敦道旺角道交界處。人還未到,已見一架雙層巴士橫放在彌敦道前,巴士上貼滿了小紙張。走近看,原來巴士前還放了水馬和垃圾筒等路障。正中的水馬貼著一張黃紙,上寫:「愛賺錢,愛國家,更愛自由,更愛民主。」

繞過路障,巴士四周站滿著看貼紙和照相的人。小貼紙都是要求真普選、公民抗命、梁振英下台等數不完的訴求;正中一張是打字的,打著:「歷史創造我們,我們創造歷史。」好個港式民主牆!

從旺角道開始,封了路的彌敦道上,人群漸多。路旁有補給站和救護站,也有一圈圈圍起來的群眾,站著聽中間的人講話。講甚麼呢?

一位香港大學女講師講她為何參加這次運動。說為了她三歲的女兒,現在不能「袋住先」,因為將來如果香港連表達不同意見的自由都沒有的話,找數的是她女兒那一代。

那位女講師原來只是個途人,說完話後圍觀者鼓掌,她便把咪遞給另一位想講話的人。接過咪的中年人說,他是不同意罷課和佔中的,這對香港前途沒好處。中央一定不會因為一部份香港人鬧鬧就撤回人大決議;中共吃軟不吃硬,香港警察控制不了場面,中央會出動解放軍,即時就一國一制,大家今天就要找數,這個責任誰揹得起?

說得也是,大家一時沒答得上話,其實這也正是大家意識背後隱隱藏著的恐懼。但不知誰先起哄,或為了壯膽,竟噓了起來,跟著罵聲雜沓,大夥兒一下子都衝中年人來。擾嚷一會,中年人面都紅了,人群才慢慢靜下來。

這時一個穿校服的男生走上前,拿起咪,囁嚅著說,他是中五學生,想講句話。他說,大家表達意見,也應該尊重別人的意見,無論是讚同佔中或者反對佔中,都應該有權利和自由表達出來,大家不應該因為有不同意見便噓叫別人。男生說完大家都報以掌聲,我感動得想哭。

沿彌敦道再往南走,下個街口是亞皆老街。這是此次人民自發的佔中運動三大中心之一。十字路口四邊滿滿的坐著人群,人群外又圍站著一圈圈的群眾,水泄不通。原來的路中心,現在支起各色帳蓬,帳蓬下面騰出點地方,有人正在那裏說話。方式也是輪流的講,任何人愛講便去排隊,有的人只講兩句,說說心裏感受,便把咪讓與他人,大家都十分守規矩,展現出言論自由的素養。一個自發式的城市論壇,卻秩序井然。

走過這擁擠的街口,後面又停著幾輛巴士和其他汽車。巴士都給貼滿小貼紙,變成了港式民主牆。巴士後是用垃圾筒、鐵馬和木板豎起的路障,還有一個巴士站牌橫在那裏。過了路障,彌敦道仍然來往雙線都沒有車輛。再走一會,左手邊的奶路臣街始有汽車轉出,往南走的彌敦道才開始單線行車,另一邊仍然是行人專用區。

今天是公眾假期,在佔領道的兩旁,銀行例不營業,其他商鋪,有部份也關了門,最明顯的是周大福。先前到廣良興買牛肉乾,問生意如何,老板說跌了一半,不知是真是假,我進店時見有四人正在那裏買東西吃。

一路行來,旺角街頭,完全不見警察蹤影。路障是集會人士自己隨手搭建的。路障一放,汽車馬上停止駛入。那幾輛橫在路中心的巴士,大概是走避不及,便被權充作民主牆,自己也成了路障。

這樣私設路障和封路,當然是違法的行為。但自9月28日傍晚時分,警察對示威群眾施放了摧淚彈之後,不單只沒有收到驅散人群的預期效果,反而激起公憤,出來示威的人愈來愈多,當晚便分別佔領了金鐘、中環、銅鑼灣和旺角等地的主要道路。奇怪的是,原來積極驅趕人群的警察,忽然收手,對市民之後的佔領行為,視若無睹。香港這幾個「佔領區」,一夜之間變成無政府狀態。

原來,衝突激烈的9月28日晚,是風險的一晚。事態何以會發展到這地步?或者該從9月22日講起。

22日下午,香港專上學生聯會發起一連五天的「罷課不罷學」抗爭。罷課第一天在中大校內舉行,第二天移師政府總部旁的添馬公園。罷課的目的,是反對香港政府所提出的普選方案,反對全國人民代表大會在8月31日的表決 (表決說未來香港行政長官的候選人會由一個提名委員會提名產生,不允許公民提名),並爭取行政長官選舉的公民提名權。

9月26日,學民思潮接力發起中學生罷課一天,罷課集會在香港政府總部外的添美街行人道上進行。到了26日晚上,當罷課集會接近尾聲,一批學生攀過鐵欄進入罷課集會旁,已被封閉的公民廣場,當時約有100人成功進入廣場。之後警察清場,合共拘捕74人,包括幾名學生領袖。

學生領袖在拘留期間,受到警方不合理對待。黃之鋒被拘留超過四十小時,岑敖暉有病不准食藥,最後前者申請人身保護令得直,法官判決時指出拘留超時,毫無必要,並訓示警方盡快釋放其他兩名學生領袖。

9月27日,數萬名市民和學生到政府總部外支援。

28日凌晨,戴耀廷等佔中三子在政府總部旁的集會場地,宣布佔中活動,提前舉行,號召更多市民前往響應。但三子此舉,卻惹來學生不滿,覺得學生運動被佔中運動騎劫。28日早上,聚集的人群大多散去,現場人數從早一晚的8萬餘人,驟減得數千人。

28日下午時分,市民陸續再回來支援。但警方封路,不讓來聲援的市民回到政府總部旁的集會會場內。在外邊聚集的市民,越來越多,結果市民從不同位置衝出馬路,佔據干諾道中及夏愨道全線,開啓佔領幹道的序幕,而且一發不可收拾。中環干諾道中東西行車線,金鐘金鐘道往灣仔方向的3條行車線,紅棉道,以及灣仔軒尼詩道西段及告士打道近演藝學院一帶,都在一個多小時內被市民佔據。到了下午5時58分,警方在金鐘道突然展示「警告催淚煙」橫額,數秒後隨即施放多枚催淚彈。

28日晚上的幾個小時內,警察對舉起雙手示威的學生和市民,共發放了87枚摧淚彈。這是香港警察自2005年世貿會議期間,向來港示威的韓農發放催淚彈之後的首次。警察對香港人自己放催淚彈,對上一次要數到47年前,1967年的暴動。2005年對有備而戰的韓農,警方共放了34枚催淚彈。對自己的學生和市民,這次竟然多放了一倍以上。

除了放催淚彈,電視鏡頭所見,防暴警察還提著AR-15半自動步槍,步槍可射實彈及橡膠子彈。警察亦展示警告「再不離開就開槍」,防暴隊並用槍枝指向民眾,當時真有點草木皆兵,風聲鶴唳的味道。後來有消息說警方已經以橡膠子彈來驅散示威群眾,學聯與佔中三子因此呼籲參與示威者全面撤離。吊詭的是,人群並沒有因危險而離開被自己佔領了的街道。

9月28日晚,衝突相當激烈。警方一方既已亮槍,開槍或不開槍,只是某些人一念之別。至今較嚴重的損傷未曾出現,幸也。

29日天亮後,多個被市民佔據及示威的地點,氣氛倒平靜下來。在金鐘干諾道中和政府總部內外,仍有大批警員繼續佈防戒備,但防暴警察已退下火線,半自動步槍也不見了。在其他佔據地點,警察對市民私設路障,安坐於通衢大道之上等等行為,似乎視若無睹。香港這幾個「佔領區」,一夜之間變成無政府狀態。

無政府狀態究竟是怎麼一回事?

今天,我「非法」的在大馬路上遊蕩,從旺角到尖沙咀,再從中環到銅鑼灣,看了一個又一個「非法集會示威區」。見到的,是和平、理性、相互扶持、有素養的一個個公民,在井然有序的時空下,行使著不知道有沒有結果的抗爭。

旺角彌敦道的「佔領區」,北起水渠道,南至窩打老道。南陲的路障只有幾個雪糕筒,輕鬆得似非示威者所為。可能是警方的配合,既然彌敦道北邊的要塞給佔領了,車也進不去,索性把下一個主要幹點的交通維持好便是。

過了窩打老道,時空逆轉,一切又突然正常起來。一街之隔,猶如兩個世界,在平衡時空之間同時存在。街之南是路障、巴士民主牆、集會抗議的熱血;之北,是一貫的熱鬧,擦肩而過的路人,繁華鬧市,一貫的彌敦道。

我沿彌敦道一路走過油麻地、佐敦、尖沙咀,感覺都與平時無異。我知道廣東道有集會,故在北京道右轉,經過地下隧道走出來,看見廣東道一切如常,名店門前仍然有人在排隊等進店。

站在廣東道上往南北方向望了一轉,不見異樣。本想放棄,又覺既然來了,姑且看個究竟吧,遂轉身往海防道方向走。果然,在天橋前看到用鐵馬和垃圾筒擺設的路障。這個集會地方比較小,聚集的人群也沒有旺角多。一個黑衣男子正在呼籲大家冷靜,說警察最想清理掉的,就是這個示威區,籲請大家穩守,沉著氣…我在小小的示威區走了一轉,見圍觀的人遠比坐著示威的人多,也沒有人特別有話說,便決定往文化中心方向,繼續前進。

如是者經過星光行、天星碼頭,一路走到鐘樓旁文化中心前的海旁公園。這裏有人閑坐著,有人在照相,遊人怡然自得者有之,嬉戲追逐者有之,跟往日也沒有兩樣。我站到海旁的圍欄,隔海遠眺中環一帶景色,巍巍壯哉!這仍然是我熟悉的香港呵!

在海旁站了一會,若有所得,便原路回天星碼頭去,再坐渡海小輪過中環。中環天星碼頭出來,從民光街上天橋去 IFC。先到 city'super 買了一包 Royce 朱古力,然後經 IFC 商場,穿過交易廣場,落到干諾道中,便到達中環佔領區。

佔領區附近所見,鐵馬是從怡和大廈旁天橋底開始架起的。從這裏開始,干諾道中以東,整條路都變成了行人專用區。文華酒店前的一段路,設有第二道鐵馬。從和平紀念碑和香港會一帶開始,集會人士漸多,散坐在路的兩旁和中間石膊上。路上則走著閑步和照相的人,其中年輕人較多,外國人也不少。

在中環集會區走了一會,覺得這裏跟九龍有點不同。首先是人更多;迎面來的年輕人,很多在額頭上都貼上一塊白布,初不知何解,後來到補給站一看,原來有提供退熱貼的。額上一白這造型,是有點古怪,卻如大家襟上綴一朵黃絲帶,都以此為傲。

這裏的補給站也較多,而且物資豐富,一排排礦泉水放在路旁任人取用。補給站內有口罩、紙巾、毛巾、保鮮紙、餅干、麵包、糖果等,不一而足,都是免費供應的。走到美國銀行中心附近的補給站,更有兩名少女義工,捧著滿盒蛋糕,隨路贈食。

沿途雖然人多,但道路整潔,不見一張廢紙,一粒垃圾。原來集會人士在路的兩旁貼有大黑膠袋,是為流動垃圾袋;更多的是義工沿路提著膠袋,提醒大家把垃圾丟進袋裏去。在垃圾站又見義工將膠水樽回收後扭爛,再分類、包好,一包包垃圾整齊的堆在那裏,等待運走。

路上也見到不少一家大小的場合,父母帶孩子來示威及身教。也有老師帶中學生到場上課,在討論著甚麼的。

還有不少穿著校服的學生,靜靜的坐在路旁,打開書本溫習,或席地做功課。他們參與集會,以行動來表示他們的態度。表態之餘,亦不忘學生本份。

走到遠東金融中心前,路中石膊上坐著十多名少女,每人舉起一張小紙牌,上寫:「民主」、「爭取真普選」、「自己香港自己救」、「689下台」、「香港加油」等。

在這裏也看到了遙控的空中攝影機。那是一部有4個旋轉扇葉的遙控小飛機,中間放了部微型攝影機,可以很快便飛到高空去。

路的另一邊,又站著兩個女孩子,各自拿起一張印有字的紙,放在胸前。紙上印著:「和平集會,謹守崗位」、「毋忘初衷,爭取民主」。

再往前走不遠,給人揚手叫住,原來是我的一班學生。學生圍坐在人群之中,附近或三數人或五六人,小圈圈的各自圍坐著,或交談、或冥想、或自己看書,氣氛平和。問學生在此坐了多久,有三四句鐘的,也有通宵留守的。說話間忽然有人遞來半包麵包,是旁邊坐著的人遞過來的,問我們餓不餓;答曰不餓,那人說,那麼便傳給其他人吧。

從學生那裏再往前走,很快便到了海富中心通往政府總部的天橋底下,這裏人更多了。天橋上掛下幾幅標語,寫道:「公民提名」、「沒有抗爭,那有改變」、「和平理性,自由不死」等等。

從中環一路行來,雖然人多,卻沒看見一個警察。走上天橋,才發現有警員在這裏佈防。警員用鐵馬把天橋分成兩邊,在向政府總部的一邊站崗,另一邊仍讓人行,但行到天橋盡頭,出口卻給封死了,只得又往回走,從地面行去政府總部。

走到被鐵欄封起的公民廣場,見廣場內有不少警察在站崗。鐵欄給縛滿了黃絲帶,也給掛上大大小小的標牌。當中一塊,用德文寫著:”Wir weinen, weil wir um HK trauern, nicht wegen dem Traenengas.” 英文的意思是:”We cry because we mourn HK, not because of the tear gas.” 中文就是:「我們哭了,因為我們在哀悼香港,不是因為催淚彈。」另外一塊在黃布上寫上中英文標語:”Right of Public Assembly Shall Not Be Infringed. 公眾集會權,不得侵犯。”

前走不遠,便到了立法會大樓旁,綠底白字寫著「命運自主」的集會主台。主台上這時空著無人,附近有些工作人員或記者,或坐或站的在聊著。主台附近有一長排黃色的大水馬,水馬上貼滿小紙張,變成一塊長長的民主牆。民主牆前站滿了看字的和寫字的人,當中有一位女學生,穿著校服,手拿播音器,站在小凳上,呼籲著民主和自決。好個燃點著的青春之火!

這時侯已是晚上七時多,我站在添美道迥旋處,可以清晰看到巍峨的中環廣場和它光輝耀目的標記;而在不遠處的這裏,立法會大樓四周,卻擠滿了疲累的學生和市民,為爭取香港的民主而發聲,而奮鬥,而堅持。

立法會議會樓大門外用鐵馬圍起一大片示威區,但示威區裏人不多,也無威可示。經過多日來集會抗爭,大家都累了。在示威區鐵馬旁四邊,躺著和坐著的多是年輕人。雖然累,但年輕人仍然沒有閑著。有的圍坐著在討論較形而上的概念問題,有的則在研究下一步的策略和步驟,更有十幾名蹲在五顏六色的傘堆中寫字;一位爸爸正帶著兩個女兒,一邊寫著字,一邊在享受著天倫之樂。

議會樓左邊空地上臨時設了個「流動民主教室」,年輕人在空地上圍了一個大圈,正在認真地去展述和討論各自對民主的體會和訴求。

空地旁就是添馬公園。公園這時人流較為疏落,但在中間位置卻聚了一群人,原來是一位牧師在說教,說他最近到以色列的經歷。聽了一會,我繼續前行,到政總門常開下折回,再經過教徒群時,聽到他們正在唱聖詩。

添馬公園的另一邊是海濱,以前沒到過,原來幽靜雅緻。海濱對岸是 ICC 和尖沙咀。ICC 今晚全幢銀白色,一個黑影在銀白色的樓底下向上游,一直游到樓頂,轉過身來,又往樓底游去。看了一會,我轉過身,政府總部上的夜幕綴了一灣半月,夜色如水,不知今夕何夕…



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2014年10月1日行記的照片,見於

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Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Chapter 2: A Capitalist and a Communist I

They got to know each other for the first time three weeks ago, in the virtual world. Shiny and Patrick, each on their own decided -- within two days from each other, they later found out -- to give online dating a try. Like many in this information age, they thought it was easier, or perhaps safer, to find love through a façade, at least initially.

Patrick was an up-and-coming young banker. Careerwise, one can say he has been having a sweet ride, being just promoted to the number two position in an international bank in Hong Kong, overseeing fourteen branches, all in his mid-30’s. This promise, however, was hardly detected in his first couple of decades of life.

As a student, he didn’t seem to be outstandingly bright. He was no big pushover, sure, but his academic performance, or any other performances, had ever seared a distinct impression with his teachers or peers. It didn’t help that he was unusually quiet. He could be active and showed glimpses of leadership when doing something he liked and was good at, like playing basketball. But other than that, he was bland and detached. In school, he has never really had many friends either, preferring to be on his own, mulling over his own thoughts.

He took up the hobby – passion, really -- of daydreaming in his early teens. Unlike most youngsters who harbored similar disposition, he actually thought he had talents in this undertaking and pursued it quite seriously for a long number of years. In college, although his inclination was to explore ideas, he tried to study medicine at the Chinese University of Hong Kong to accommodate his parents’ wishes. Blood and the gloominess of illness so traumatized him he quickly turned to philosophy, something he thought he could find peace at.

But shortly, he found out that formalizing his hobby was not as fun, nor particularly easy, as treating it his private entertainment. In his sophomore year, metaphysics first helped cast doubts on the existence of his self-believed talents.

In the class he argued with his bearded professor about the identity of matters, contending that the identity was revealed in the relation among every and all matters, and that the identity was borne in the relation itself only, not on matters themselves, as matters independent of or in the absence of relation bore no identity. His contention that relation was the only existence and, therefore, the identity of matters, was met with amusement but unsupportive acquiescence from the professor. He passed the subject but barely.

Later, it was Wittgenstein who did the trick. He was completely lost in trying to make sense out of Tractatus. Disappointed at himself, he switched to business and graduated with a double major.

His first forage for jobs hadn’t shown the least sign of success he later enjoyed either. It took him almost a year to land his first formal job, working in the shipping department of a shipping company, which nicely called itself a logistics corporation. His title was shipping assistant manager, but he functioned more like an all-purpose errand boy for different departments.

(to be continued...)

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Chapter 1: The Encounter IV

Half sitting on the bed, he held her up in his arms and kissed her fervently all over, on the lips, the face, the nose, the ears, the neck, the hair...While he was kissing her, his right hand slipped inside her red turtleneck and felt her body. It’s a lean and firm body. He ran his fingers along the silky smooth expanse of her back, touched her bra strap, moved the hand up to her shoulders and felt her collar bones. She had distinct collar bones.

As his right hand was feeling around her back, his left arm was holding her close to him. She, with half of her back on the bed, put her arms around his neck, tilted her head and kissed him. She kissed with passion. Her tongue courted his lips, slipped through his front teeth and went inside, tempting, exploring, searching. She was looking for love and for a man she could enjoy and depend on.

But no, no, not this fast. Only one time in her life had she sought out sex for sex’s sake and she regretted it to this day. She felt like a whore whenever she thought of it. The slightly bald image of the man and his smell from smoking flashed back to her and he felt her tongue hesitated. She couldn’t risk ruining this—not this time, not with him. This was a man she could care for and love and she could not make any mistakes. She didn’t want him to think she was an easy woman either. Mustering all her will, she tried to break the kiss and started to loosen her hold on his neck.

He felt her change. He didn’t know why but thought he should respect it. He slightly relaxed the grip of his left arm and let the kiss go. As his mouth was moving away from hers, he caught her eyes and saw the disappointment in them before a look of craving and vulnerability filled them. “Oh, I love you, I love you, I love you!” he whispered his soul into her ear and once again buried his lips into hers.

This time she let go and enjoyed his affection happily. The air was charged with both of their wants. As he caressed and sucked her tongue, she knew she could no longer resist the desire of her heart, her body. She wanted him. Once that thought became clear to her, she decided to give herself to him.

Their long, intense kiss was electrifying. He was hard. Flushed, he held her up, knelt beside her, and helped her off with her turtleneck. Then her trousers. Then her panties. And finally, her bra. She blushed, and instinctively put her arms over her chest. He knew he must not let her feel anything but respect and affection. He cupped her head gently and touched a kiss on her forehead.

Then and there, with that kiss, she knew he was her man.

When both of them were completely naked, they hugged and caressed each other’s body. His hand moved up to her breast and he touched the soft skin with his fingertips. Upon the touch, she quivered and moaned. It excited him. She had small but firm breasts. Her nipples were stimulated and hard. He buried his head into her chest and sucked at her excited nipples. She let out a happy, sensual groan, and pressed his head into her bosom...

(to be continued...)

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Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Chapter 1: The Encounter III

Her quiet femininity had an air of mystic attraction. She had a demeanor that looked oddly familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. He lay down on his side next to her, his head propped up on his left elbow, and began running his right hand fingers through her satiny long hair, absently looking at her curved silhouette.

“Thinking something?”

“Uhh?...No, ah, yes,” he was recalled. “You know the physicist Isaac Newton, right?”

“Don’t know him…heard of him,” she was slightly miffed that he didn’t tell the truth.

“Right, right,” he blamed himself for the semantic slip, and was a bit surprised at the tone of her response.

“What about him?” she turned her head toward him and asked softly, conscious of the nuances in her tone.

“Well,” he straightened up a bit, “Newton was a great genius, of course, with his three laws of motion and his discovery of gravity, but personally, he was also an oddball.”

“Really? How?” She turned to her side and faced him. The interest in her eyes gave him a sense of camaraderie that he hadn’t noticed. He was heartened by the prospect that they might have more things to share in common.

“Well...” he was debating if he should kill the story he had had in mind and replace it with another one not so obvious. “Newton was a famously distracted person. It was reported that when he got up in the morning, he had a habit of swinging his feet out of bed, but sometimes right in the middle of it he would amazingly be immobilized by a sudden rush of thoughts to his head, and he would remain in that position for hours, thinking of his ideas...”

“You mean all the while when his feet were out of the bed...”

“Yeah...and just hanging there for hours...”

She turned to her back and gazed at the ceiling, absorbed in her own thought. She was intrigued by the idea that someone could be this distracted. She found the behavior fascinating, and Newton lovable. She decided to read up some on the man. Maggie would love it. The thought of her daughter brought a smile on her face. “Do you have any book you can recommend on Newton? A primer, possibly?”

Her seriousness surprised him. He thought she had been thinking about the hanging feet. “I don’t know much about Newton, actually. I’ve never read his original works...I’ll get you Will Durant’s volume on Newton.”

The frown on her face alerted him. The feminine woman he had kind of taken for granted was suddenly making judgment on him. There was an unexpected threat, but at the same time, he relished the challenge.

“Will Durant has written a great work called The Story of Civilization,” he sat himself up with his back to the bedhead, lightly touching her hair, while she lay next to him. “It’s an eleven-volume work of a lifetime, covering history east and west. It’s still unfinished, though, when Durant died in his 90s.”

“What does it has to do with Newton?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he liked her persistence. “Whenever I’m talking about Durant, I’ll get carried away. He has a volume in which he talked about Newton.”

“You mean a volume in that...ehh...Civilization something?”

“Yes. The Story of Civilization.” He was usually sharper. He didn’t know what has happened to him tonight.

“And you have the whole set?”

“Well, yes,” he said, and sensed a tone in her question he couldn’t quite make of it. “I got a free set when I bought the Encyclopedia Britannica.”

“You bought a whole set of the Encyclopedia Britannica?”

She actually began to think he was kind of a nut. She has never heard of anyone buying a whole set of the EB. These things were to be looked up in the library. That’s what the library was for, wasn’t it?

“Well, I’m sorry," she realized she sounded a bit crude. "You like books, right?”

“That’s okay. I’m a bookworm,” he began to feel sorry for the whole conversation, perhaps the whole evening.

(to be amended…)

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Wednesday, July 06, 2011

Chapter 1: The Encounter II

She felt his touch and him studying her. The sensuousness of his touch on her face was mesmerizing: the lightness of his fingers breezed down the forehead to the tip of her nose, then to her lips, went around them, slipped past the chin to the base of her throat and the top of her chest, hesitated, and then glided back up. She appreciated the courtesy of his fingers. She knew she was haunted by his touch. What she didn’t know was how much of her soul was devoured by his eyes.

Lying next to her, his face was just a few inches from hers. He could hear her breathe. When she breathed her nostrils flared slightly. He didn’t know if she realized this little charm of hers herself. The breathing was even and smooth. He knew she felt comfortable with him even this close. Suddenly, he was overcome with a sense of sadness. His brows twitched, and he felt a lump in his throat...

He quickly gathered himself, and felt filled with tenderness toward the woman in front of him. With the soft touch of his middle finger, he skimmed the lines of her lips with emotion. He noticed she did not have lipstick on. Her lips had a light rosy hue. One of her front teeth peeked out slightly through her lips. He found that very sexy, lowered his head, and wanted to kiss it with the tip of his tongue.

The wetness startled her and she opened her eyes. He wanted to apologize but also felt he didn’t have to. So he just smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

The disruption made him notice that they were lying on the bed in an awkward position. Half of their feet were hanging outside of the bed. It was not comfortable, sort of Newtonian though.

He climbed up and saw that she did not have her shoes on. He, on the other hand, had his right shoe on but not his left.

"Aww, look at how clumsy I'm!" he smirked at her sheepishly, signaling with his head in the direction of his feet.

She arched her head up and looked at his feet and smiled, without saying a word.

He got up and took off his right shoe, climbed back up onto the bed, and slid her gently to the head of the bed in the middle. All the while she did not say anything. She just looked at him tenderly with a slight smile and let him do whatever he wanted to do.

(to be continued...)

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Tuesday, July 05, 2011

Chapter 1: The Encounter I

It was close to eleven. She said it was time for her to go home.

"Right," he nodded, "I’ll take you downstairs." And he went right to putting his shoes on.

As he was sitting on the end of the bed, bending down to put on his New Balance, he thought of the difficulty of getting a taxi. Just now when they were on the street outside the hotel, they couldn’t get a taxi to a restaurant and ended up eating at the hotel. Perhaps he should ask the front desk to call a taxi…

"Don’t you want me to stay?" her voice came from the back.

His left shoulder shuddered a tiniest bit. A number of thoughts flashed across his mind while his hands froze in the middle of tying the shoe lace of his right shoe. One thought that was clear was that whatever he would say or do in response, he must make sure that she knew she was respected.

He stood up and turned to her. She was standing on the left side of the bed, looking at him, a small smile on her beautiful face. He moved forward, limping a bit, until he was close enough to gently put his lips onto hers, and kissed her.

"Of course I want you to stay," he murmured into her ear, and noticed that she shivered.

They were now both standing next to the bed. Instinctively, he placed his left arm around her back and softly laid her down. Then, with his arms spread on either side of her, he set himself down lightly on top, and showered her lips and face with kisses.

She closed her eyes, her face relaxed, wearing a slight smile. It was the first time he was this close to her. With his left elbow now supporting the weight of his body, he used the free hand to begin tracing the contour of her face, gliding it with the soft tips of his fingers. When closed, her eyes were those of a buddha. He wanted to kiss those eyes but her glasses were in the way. The eyebrows were defined and shapely, with a nice arch. There was no noticeable makeup. She had a natural glow of beauty about her. There were a few little spots on that pretty face. There was one on the lower side of the forehead, just above the eyebrows; another one on her left cheek…

(to be continued...)

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Monday, June 27, 2011

To Shiny No. 9 More on Writing

Shiny,

I’ve always believed that good writing should be free from the use of too many trite words or generic forms of expression. If we want to say someone is nice, write specifically how he is nice, rather than just to say “he is nice,” or worse, “he is very nice.” If he is sad, fine, skip the over-used word “sad” and then try to describe in subtle, meticulous words either his look or his mental state or both to convey his state of sadness. This of course is easier said than done. I’ve asked my students to go out and watch how people eat and then write short descriptions of different people eating. It’s called practicing the basics, like painting students painting still life objects, or piano students going over the keys.

Andy Rooney of the “60 Minutes” fame is good in using simple words to describe physical forms and movements. These two passages are my Rooney examples to students on crossing legs. If you want to write about people crossing their legs, don’t just stop there, write more and show how different people actually cross their legs. Here are Rooney’s observations:

“They crossed their legs, twisted them like pretzels, put their arms over the back of the chair next to them, squirmed continuously. Some of the college girls curled one leg up under themselves and sat on that.”

“If chairs were comfortable and supportive of us where we most want support, we would not feel that great urge to lift one foot off the floor and hook the back of the knee over the other knee. Men often don’t actually cross their legs, they place one ankle on top of the knee of the other leg and simultaneously rest the palm of one hand on the ankle that is on the knee.”

As a student of writing, I have a selection of these passages saved. From time to time, I would dig them out and repeat aloud the passages a number of times, trying first to remember them, then to forget them. I’ve told myself this is a way to learn great writings through the act of the subconscious.

Rooney’s hero, E. B. White, whom Rooney allowed as a writer who “may have written the English language more gracefully than any American who ever lived,” liked animals and liked writing about animals. Here are his lines describing a guinea chicken:

“I solved perpetual motion last July when my youngest grandson gave me a guinea chick on my birthday. The chick was only three days old and he, or she, immediately accepted me as his, or her, mother. I still function in that capacity. The guinea is now full grown, in full plumage, and in perpetual motion. He hates my bicycle, mounts me when I kneel, chases cars and trucks, gooses my terriers, and befouls my woodshed. Except at night when he is roosting, his head is never still a minute. And his curiosity is insatiable. I named him Jack, and in another couple of months he will probably be laying eggs—which I won’t know what to do with…”

I love him for his childlike curiosity, admire him of his intricate observation, and adore his ability to be able to arrange words in such captivating fashion.

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