The Wonderful Room

The late evening sun filtered in through the purple curtains, casting an uncanny[1] mood in the room. What a room it was! Piles of things towered around in random places. Cards of all sorts- baseball, Pokémon, post-cards, mystery-mansion and monopoly, Uno!, happy family, business, invitation, social, birthday, were stringed together and hung on a blue board. Toys of all species- boring things like the 50 sens bananas and the plastic card cars from the 1 ringgit boxes of surprises, to things that were far more interesting. An old carriage made of metal clockwork, in fine intricate detail and only 2 feet high. Blue stretchy everlasting balloons, with wooden flag sticks inside. A miniature Ferris wheel, complete with clown and friendly ghost. Little Russian dolls, made of coloured glass, looking incredibly mother-like. Tiny golden fairy dresses with tinier wings. The fairy doll had been flushed down the toilet in an unfortunate experiment involving paper boats and the toilet bowl. A set of every colour paints, beautifully carved out of wood. It stood neatly on a stool, a large flat square, with faded shouts written on it, promising more than 50 spectacular colours under its lid.

It was a room worth spending days and days in.

There was a bed at the center of all the piles of things, a small child-thing, shaped out of metal, and intricately designed. If you looked carefully, a person was barely visible in the gloom, sitting up against the head stand.

“Assalamualikum Grandma. You’re in this room again? How long have you been this time? 5 days?”

A whispery sound was heard, sounding faintly musical. The words were rather hard to distinguish, unless one listened carefully at a radius of 2 feet away.

“Walaikumasalam. Oh dear, no it’s been 6 days. But you are so close! You are getting better! Have a dried pickled orange candy, my dear?”

Sigh. Ms.Thatwackyperson sat carefully on the edge of the little metallic bed, pretending to gobble and glumpule[2] a pile of assorted dried fruits. Ack. They weren’t depraved[3], she thought grumpily. Ackkurgg!! Fine. She’d say it.


“Yes, dear?”

What followed was a very sensible thing about telling people before a person choses to disappear, and that certain worried parties had been after other certain worried parties, who did not really do anything anyway, who were trying to get out of it all, until they’d found Ms.Thatwackyperson.

“And you know, Granny, it’s just not fair! That’s all I seem to be, you know, to them, a sort of catcher in a game of hide-and seek! Arrgghhhgg!!!! I wish you had some real family still.”

“Oh, my dearie one, you must have yelled at them some choice gibberish! Tell me you did, I will not believe you if you deny it! You were one sassy girl back then, and now it’s just amplified! Super-sassy dearie one!”

“Oh you think so? Oh really? I’m so flattered! I did call them some awful stuff. I actually yelled at a silver haired suited-up business person, you bloothead! And this man in grey gloves- YOU POG-NOG!”

“Some of them have definitely gone nashtu[4] in the fridge!” The old lady dissolved into giggles, which changed into snorts, to gargles, to roars and screams of high-pitched, and rumbling, grumbling, muttering, blaring, booming, reverberating laughter. It was a sound to be reckoned with, it was! Momentous, classic, historic, epic.

Scan0036 Scan0037

[1] From Word, Windows 7, synonym of eerie. I am not awesome enough to just use words like uncanny, out of nothing, haha.

[2] Freedom, as usual, has been taken with the English language.

[3] Synonym of bad. It was just really funny!

[4] Nashtu is a loose transliteration of rotten in Bengali.

About theshadowsofthenight

An amateur writer and amateur artist :)
Aside | This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s