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Can't marry a man you've never met?
Marry a man you've met?
You marry a man anyway.
But is a man worth it?
I don't know. And I intend to find out. Not a believer in love- with the pledge I stare at my parents who were once an icon. A monument of love, their tale the chants and promises for youth throughout the family. But as I see them now, both with pride shoved up their nostrils as they refused to even look at the other's respective selves. I just know, I know that they fought about who feeds the dog in the week to come last night-
I love puppies. They don't judge you. Love is for them.
Puppies are- puppies. You just can't not love them. Their barks are cute. And the cute culture in my country is flourishing. So I manage a cute smile.
But I prefer pet fish though-
They just exist- they don't cuddle and demand attention like dogs. I like fish. I wish I was a fish.
It makes me wonder how they smell when they basically live in water. They get free showers yet they are-
I must've zoned out. I could scrape it from my parent's features.
They frown- Mom delivers babies for a living while Dad makes fortune cookies- his profession is to lie with each note he writes. It wasn't strange to see them frowning or in distress. They are always a mess. Together or individual.
"We can say no to them" mother begins, crossing her legs and arching her ribs straighter " she is young and she doesn't even know the boy"
Dad ponders, scratching his temples with his subtly bearded jaw clamped.
"I know the boy. He is a nice man"
We sit there. Null for a while.
"Is he a boy or a man? Decide first" I ask. Dad humbly slips into a relaxed posture on the couch, his thinking face on.
"He acts like both. But he is a gentleman" he assured.
I hum in response. Mother cleared her throat, her work coat still hung on her frame stiffly. While father had his washed tracks and shirt on. Such a match made in- delusion. But yet they balance, and cancel each others flaw out.
"You write romance Novels shin. You can't marry a man who you aren't in love with"
The heat in my nose prickles. I've to be honest about this- I have to tell her.
'They buy romance from me. I write to make money. I don't know much about love. You both are hardly there for me and I don't have any friends. I do have a brother who I want to throw out from the window of my one-story room at times though'
Slightly a lie.
My family was complete. Though my brother was weird, so was I. And my parents. But we all cherished each other to death. But the hardly there part- they can't help it, they've got work to do. So indisputably, I just wanted to be the whiney isolated girl in my head for the plot.
'I write books to put bread on the table beside the multi-cuisine edibles that our chef prepares for us. I don't believe in what I write mom'
I did tell her inside my eccentric consciousness.
But in reality-
"It will bring pride to our family?"
-as my biological grandmother puts it once she attaches her dentures is able to finally criticize me and my mother.
And how is bringing a man into my life will boost my revenues as grandma calls it? I make my own money, he- whoever he is, won't be spending a penny on me. I won't let him.
"Why do you want to do this? I suspect that your Dad and his mother are manipulating you into this- if so you don't -
Actually no.
I am the one manipulating them into doing this. If I have a proposal, I want to see what it's all about. I don't have anything better to do anyway.
The bell rings cutting off my mother's horrors. I get up rubbing my hands, ecstatic to receive the food I had ordered. Tipping the adorable delivery boy a good amount and awarding him with a platonic, cold and nervous thank you, I hug the food to my chest. As I cross the living room I holler with my head poking through the side at them.
"I am fine with whatever that's going on. Let me know when you both are done arguing"
They sat worried, and as I left, unfortunately I could hear what was it that kept them on their toes once I began to change course.
"Does she take anything about herself seriously?" she asked.
He sighed tiredly.
"Never"
Never?
Never?
Oh boy only if they know!
Ignore if you are comfortable imagining your own leads.
SHIN
LEE
SERA
FISCHER
HWAN
AARON
EDMUND
|D I S C L A I M E R|
This book is a work of fiction Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The information provided within this Book is for general informational purposes only.
Though no body's gonna read this, yet for the dramatic effect I am going to shout, don't copy the book or idea. Or else. Or else. I don't know, might just sit behind the screen and eat pop corns. Sounds like a plan :)
And yeah... I'll also report you and the faithful readers of this book are quite dangerous so beware.