Gloria

She was drunk. She was already slurring her words, as she sang Jar of Hearts for the nth time, ignoring the other songs I've lined up for her.

"Hey, let's play something more upbeat. Titanium? Survivor?" I suggested, but she just kept on belting out the same song. I lay down on the sofa, thinking that it was going to be a long night.

She lay her head on my shoulder and placed her palm on my chest. "It hurts here, Sean. I can't breathe." I knew she was beyond consolation, but I had to at least try.

"I know," I whispered, as I placed my hand on top of hers. I asked if she remembered when I was the one who felt broken.

"Yeah, you were such a crybaby then," she giggled. I smiled.

I pressed her tiny hand firmly against my chest and brought both of us back. To that time when I'd always suddenly tear up. When even breathing hurt. And how I thought the pain would never go away.

I was just about to go into this speech that would miraculously pull her out of the darkness, when I heard her gentle snoring. I took the microphone from her hand just as Gloria Gaynor came on. "You'll be ok," I whispered.

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Piggyback

He's the one washing the dishes. Again. Right after he mopped the floors clean. Washed and hung the clothes to dry. Dropped by the grocery to buy daily essentials. And bought takeout for both of us.

I've been bedridden for days, and I feel guilty that's hubby's doing all the work. I just lie here the entire day whining about the pain, most likely psychosomatic anyways, demanding for his attention.

I know it's unfair, and at times I wonder if he ever thinks of me as a burden. An unnecessary load that he has to carry. And that in time, he may tire and start to question if this is what he signed up for.

"Thank you," I said as he tucked me in. "And I'm really sorry."

He merely brushed it off. "Why are you apologizing? In our next life together, it might be your turn to take care of me."

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Briefs and Shorts

Brief/Short # 1

She was pretty. And I loved that she didn't seem to know this. The way she lit up the room with her smile. Her hand gently sweeping her stray bangs as she spoke, before they fell back into place framing her beautiful face.

She would tilt her head ever so slightly as she giggled at my jokes. But then her face took on a serious look, as she held my gaze. I couldn't look away, and my breathing became heavy.

She unbuckled my belt, then pulled down my pants and boxer shorts. Slowly, gently. Until I could feel her breath on my nakedness. I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to her.

Then the devious emergency room nurse jabbed a needle at my exposed hip, instantly ending our short-lived romance and my brief relapse into heterosexuality.

Brief/Short # 2

I had to be confined, so I called the hubby to let him know where I was. I was extremely nervous, knowing he would go ballistic upon learning I had a relapse.

I braced myself for a scolding. For not taking care of myself better. Of continuing to stuff myself with junk that the doctor previously warned me not to eat. For simply being stubborn and selfish.

Well, he would be right. But I was surprised when he simply asked how i was feeling. Where it hurt. What the doctor's initial diagnosis was. And that he hoped I would feel better soon.

"So you're not mad?" I asked him, feeling somewhat relieved.

"Wait 'til you get home," was his curt reply.

Brief/Short # 3

The lady from the admitting counter came back with my old records. I didn't realize that I was previously confined in this hospital some seven, eight years ago.

She said we had to go through my personal details on record to see if any updates were needed. I didn't appreciate the bureaucracy, as I was doubled over in pain. But the doctor was still with a patient, so I complied.

She said my name, address, telephone and ID number. They were all still current. She went through a few more and then read through my Emergency Contact Person details.

Beyond the excruciating pain that I was feeling, I heard her mention my husband's name.

I smiled. "He still is."

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Lunch Buffet

I just attended a lunch hosted by a friend who's also based here in China. The spread consisted of my favorite dishes, all Chinese. Stir-fried noodles, spicy Szechuan stew, pan-fried Shanghai dumplings, store-bought Peking duck, and roasted pork belly.

I was still recovering from stomach flu and all I could do was watch and salivate. I just poured myself a bowl of plain congee, the same thing I've subsisted on for a week. It was light, familiar, warm, and comforting, which I guess was good for me.

There were a lot of guests, mainly locals. Most guys were my type. I guess that's one of the perks of being in this city - you're surrounded by Chinitos. I sat across the buffet counter and people-watched. I drooled over the spread in front of me, but I remained seated, sipping my congee.

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