Page 81 - 2023 eMag Final Draft
P. 81

Written by Eanne Koo Jr1Z(1)  It’s futile, isn’t it?           aggressiveness.
 Illustration by Sam Jian Shan Sr1ScE


            The  clock  resonated with an  audacious            He used to think that this job was for the
            tick, loud enough to replace humans. A              better. Rather, his parents convinced him
            restless reflection was seen on the crystal,        that being a writer would only result in
            gazing into the abyss for unknown                   shattered dreams and empty pockets.

            reasons.

                                                                “Eden ah, it’s not because we don’t want
            The day repeated itself yet again. The              you to become a writer, it’s because we

            aroma of morning coffee tantalised his              want the best for you. Writer cannot make
            senses, only to be replaced by a sunset             money.”
            hue as he blinked the hours away. He

            loathed it–  everything  faded from  his
            memory through neglect, just like an                Maybe they were right, there was no way
            anomaly. When he was young, he sought               he would succeed.
            to achieve more; but now, he was adrift
            with no goals. To put it simply, he wasn’t          But what if there was just a sliver of

            satisfied at all.                                   chance?



            His chosen path mirrored his discontent,            This sent echoes into his mind: no way.

            a desperate grasp at stability. The
            disinterest he  displayed was  evident to
            his colleagues, their words dripping with           A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he

            annoyance.                                          slumped into his chair, his hands violently
                                                                ruffling his hair.


            “Mr. Eden Yang, I swear to whatever’s up

            in the sky – if you keep spacing out, the           When he was young, he had spent
            higher-ups will SURELY fire you.” Their             copious efforts on writing pieces, maxing
            voices tinged with exasperation.                    out his sources of knowledge to the
                                                                limit. Yet, he quit just because of his
                                                                parents’ disapproval, a mere speck of dust
            His answers were  never direct, and he              compared to all those massive errors in
            knew it.                                            his pieces.




            “Sorry,” he muttered tautly.                        It still troubled him today, but he was in
                                                                no place to move at all. Foolish, wasn’t he?


            He’d  make  a  subconscious  note  to
            thank those who noticed his passive-                Then, a memory unravelled its threads,


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