Story 2) Snow White

SNOW WHITE by Grimm

SW NEW VERSION
by Jenn~

Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a Queen sat at her window sewing, and her embroidery-frame was made of black ebony. And as she worked, gazing at times out on the snow, she pricked her finger, and there fell from it three drops of blood on the snow.

And when she saw how bright and red it looked, she said to herself, "Oh that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and with hair as black as the wood of the embroidery-frame!"

In the high skies above the Queen’s palace, the mighty gods and goddesses heard her made her three wishes and started muttering angrily to each other:

“How vain!” Beauty declared.
“How snobbish!” Personality scowled.
“How shallow!” Wisdom murmured.
“To wish not for a daughter to love but for a daughter with looks to love!” Love said disapprovingly.
“Then… let’s give her one,” Fate said smiling with a smug look.

Soon after that the Queen had a little daughter, with a skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony, and she was named Snow White. And when the child was born, the Queen smiled very happily.

Princess Snow White grew prettier and prettier as the years passed and soon, she was five years old. The Princess was a beautiful lady, as beautiful as the day and far more so than the Queen herself when she was young. However, she was frequently pampered by her parents and her servants and soon turned into a proud and haughty princess, who could not bear to be surpassed in beauty by anyone. She possessed a wonderful looking enchanted mirror which could answer her when she stood before it and said—

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful one of all?”
And the mirror would answer:
“You are the most beautiful one of all.”
And Snow White was contented, for she knew that the mirror spoke the truth.

That year, her mother gave birth to another daughter. The new Princess did not have skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony, thus the disappointed Queen named her Cinder Black. Cinder Black was often neglected as her parents fawned lovingly over Snow White.
Lonely from neglect, Cinder Black made friends easily with her lonely maids who were so far away from their home and often empathised with the orphans on the streets whom had no home to go to, for she knew the pain of loneliness as well as they do. Cinder Black soon grew up into a kind and loving girl. Every now and then, she would sneaked out of the palace to mingle with the common people and would listen attentively to the woes of the commoners. Cinder Black would always give everyone a bright smile, a friendly wave and a helping hand too if she could. Soon, she was known on the streets as “The Girl with the Beautiful Smile”.

One day, haughty Princess Snow White went to her mirror and said,
"Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the most beautiful one of all?"
And the mirror answered,
"Princess, you are beautiful, tis is true,
But Cinder Black is far more beautiful than you are."
This gave Snow White a great shock and she shouted furiously as the mirror:
“But how can that be! She does not have skin as fair as me, nor lips as red as me, nor hair as black as me!”
“Yes princess,” the mirror said, “She does not have skin nor lips nor hair as beautiful as yours, but she has a beautiful heart that is more beautiful than your looks can be.”
The princess did not know what having a beautiful heart means and how it can be more beautiful than her own lovely appearance. Thus, believing that the mirror was faulty, she walked away scowling, shouting to her servants to send the mirror for repair.

Years went by and soon, Snow White was twenty-one and Cinder Black was sixteen years old.
That year, three princes, Hikaru, Kaoru, and Tamaki, from a neighbouring kingdom came over for a visit. They were given a grand welcome, with crowds cheering at their arrival and a thousand guards to protect them from harm. The King, the Queen, Snow White, and Cinder Black received them at the grand hall.
When the princes first saw Snow White, they were captured by her radiant beauty and smiled charmingly at her. None could take their eyes off her when she smiled back at them and Snow White’s parents were overjoyed by the attention that their beautiful daughter received.
At night, as the grand golden clock in the palace struck seven, it was time for the dinner and the ball. The King and Queen, Snow White and Cinder Black, the Princes along with the most honoured Knights, Mages, Healers, Noblemen and their partners were all present as the dinner and ball started. All were dressed in their most magnificent gowns and suits, that glittered of diamonds, silver and gold.

Hikaru reached Snow White first through the crowd, smiling he bowed to her and ask her for a dance. Delighted, Snow White accepted and danced gracefully with him. They danced and chatted, danced and chatted. When the song ended, Hikaru kissed her on the cheek and left as his brothers, Kaoru and then Tamaki asked her for a dance. After the dances, Snow White swirled back to her regal golden chair dreamily and smirked at Cinder Black as she saw her sister getting a drink at the corner, thinking that no one has asked her ugly sister for a dance.
After resting for awhile, Snow White got up to her feet and swerved through the crowd towards the direction of the washroom.

Nearing the washroom, she heard muffled voices and she edged towards them in curiosity. Soon, the voices became clearer and she heard—
“Snow White?”
She jerked in surprise and delight when she heard the princes mention her name. Memories of her lonely sister flooded into her mind as she grinned smugly and leaned closer in the direction of the voices in anticipation.
“What thick layer of foundation powder she has!” Hikaru exclaimed.
“What heavy lip-gloss she wore!” Kaoru proclaimed.
“What thick make-up she wore!” Tamaki declared.
“EeWww!” the three princes said at the same time.
“Just before the ball, that vain snobbish princess was hollering at her servants for childish reasons too,” Hikaru said crossly.
“How could they treat poor Cinder Black so terribly? She is definitely so much more beautiful,” Kaoru said.
The other two agreed then lowering their voices they continued to speak in hushed tones. Princess Snow White was no longer listening. Outraged, she furiously stormed away as hatred built up in her heart, from that onwards, she hated Cinder Black, and vowed to have her heart for her own.

The next morning, she sent for a huntsman, and said: "Take Cinder Black out into the woods, so that I may set eyes on her no more. You must put her to death, and bring me her heart for a token."
The huntsman obeyed, and took Cinder Black away; Cinder Black looked at him fearfully but whispered: “Ah dear huntsman, if my sister would be happy at my death, kill me if you must.” Closing her eyes, she waited for her death. The huntsman drew his knife but did not stab her. Instead, he stabbed and killed a young wild boar that came running by at the moment.
“Dear Cinder Black,” he said softly, “I’ll never forget the kindness you’ve shown to me before, and for this, I cannot kill you.” Cinder Black opened her teary eyes but before she could protest, He continued,
“Our people needs you, and everyone would weep if you were to die. If Princess Cinder Black does not mind, my daughter will bring you to our humble dwelling”
And with that, she thanked him gratefully and walked slowly away with his daughter to their home. The huntsman then cut out the wild boar’s heart and took it to the Snow White as proof that her sister was dead. The Princess made the cook roast it, and ate it up, thinking that that was the end of Cinder Black and that she finally had her beautiful heart.

Soon, the huntsman’s daughter, Haruhi, and Cinder Black reached the small cottage that they live in.
As she walked in, Cinder Black noticed that everything was very pretty and clean as possible. There stood a table rady laid, and covered with a white cloth, and four little plates, and four knives and forks, and drinking-cups. By the wall stood four little beds, side by side, covered with clean white quilts.
“This is my brother, Mori, and this is my mother,” Haruhi introduced.
They smiled warmly at her but the princess could only smiled apologetically at them as she greeted them.
“It’s ok dear, make yourself at home” Mrs Wood said cheerfully. Then in a more serious tone, she added: “We will not let anyone harm you, precious princess.”
Thanking them again, Cinder Black, being very hungry and thirsty was served some porridge and bread, and a little cup of fresh juice. After her meal, she was given a spare bed to sleep in and was so tired that she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. It was quite dark when the huntsman came home. He did not wake her but let her sleep on, while speaking in hush tones to his family members.

The next morning, Cinder Black awoke, and was frightened for a moment when she saw that she was in a different place. But the reassuring voices of the Wood’s family calmed her down as she remembered where she was.
So she stayed with them, and spent all her time playing in the little house, the garden and with the neighbours’ kids. In the morning the huntsman and Mori would go to work and would return only in the evening.

Now Snow White, having thought she had eaten Cinder Black’s heart, felt quite sure that she now was again the most beautiful of all. However, she strangely did not feel happier at all. A sense of fear welled up in her heart for her little conscience told her that she had done something very terrible. Not only that, her sister’s maids were frantically looking for her early in the morning but they did not dare to tell her parents that Cinder Black is missing.
Wanting to be comforted from the uneasiness she felt, she went to her mirror and said,
"Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the most beautiful one of all?"
But the mirror answered,
"Princess, thou art of beauty rare,
But Cinder Black living in the huntsman cottage
Is a thousand times more beautiful."
When she heard that, Snow White was very angry, for the mirror never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman must have deceived her, and that Cinder Black must still be alive. Angry as she was, some part of her felt a strange sense of relief but she brushed it away.
And so Snow White thought and thought again how she might kill her, for so long as she was not the most beautiful in the whole land, envy left her no rest. And then she went to a secret lonely chamber, where no one was likely to come, and there she made a poisonous apple. It was beautiful to look upon, being white with a red cheek, so that any one who should see it must long for it, but it contained a deadly poison.
She painted her face, and dressed herself like an old pedlar-woman, and no one could have known her.

In this disguise she sneaked out of the palace and went over to the huntsman’s house secretly. She knocked at the door and cried,
“Apples for sale! Fresh apples for sale!”
Cinder Black who was inside the house at the moment peeped out of the window and called, “Good-day, good woman. What have you to sell?”
“Apples, fresh from the orchard,” answered she and she showed Cinder Black her rosy red apples.
“Are they are nice?” Cinder Black asked. Snow White held out the apple for Cinder Black to try. But no sooner had she taken a morsel of it into her mouth than she fell senseless, and toppled onto the floor. Smirking with delight, Snow White went back to the palace.
Now, when the Snow White got home she went to the mirror and said,
"Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who is the most beautiful one of all?"
"Princess, thou art of beauty rare,
But Cinder Black living in the huntsman cottage
Is a thousand times more beautiful."
When she heard that, she trembled and shook with disbelief.
“How can that be! Cinder Black is dead!” she screeched at the mirror.
“True beauty does not die,” the mirror answered.
Snow White stared at the mirror, confused by its words. “What is true beauty then?” she shouted at the mirror but it was silent.

Back at the huntsman’s cottage, Mori came back from work and saw Cinder Black lying on the floor. Stunned, he quickly called for a healer and informed the rest of his family. His neighbours and all who knew where Cinder Black was came over looking very worried. The healer soon arrived and attended to her while the rest waited outside. After awhile, the healer came out and shooked his head, saying “I am sorry, she is still alive but the poison is too lethal and too difficult for me to get rid of it. We can only pray for her.”
Everyone was alarmed and very upset. ‘How could the princess with the beautiful smile die?!’ they thought sadly. And everyone was furious with Snow White.
Not getting any answer from the mirror, Snow White finally decided to visit the cottage again. ‘Maybe Cinder Black is still alive, that’s why…’ she thought. Disguised as a peddlar again, she went to the huntsman’s home.

When she reached the cottage, Snow White stared at the crowd that had gathered there. Some were weeping while others had looks of anguish, sadness and pain. Suddenly, before Snow White could make another move, a visiting Mage grabbed her by the arm and exposed her out of her disguise.
“Here’s Snow White the Murderer!” he shouted as everyone turned their heads to look at the commotion. In that instant, everything became chaotic. There was a frenzy of movements and there were screams and shouts for her imprisonment, her execution, and justice for poor Cinder Black. Snow White frantically tried to escape but could not as the Mage held on to her tightly, dragged her into the cottage and put her down beside Cinder Black’s bedside.
Snow White’s gaze landed and stayed fixed on Cinder Black’s ghostly pale face. Someone in the crowd shouted—
“How could you do such a thing to you sister!”
Snow White felt the pain of the wretched voice vibrating throughout her heart. Guilt suddenly welled up inside her, and a strange feeling of emptiness choked her. Trying in vain to suppress it, she whispered,
“I want to be the most beautiful woman in the land, but the mirror said that Cinder Black is more beautiful than I am… If I am not beautiful, my parents will neglect me and hate me too, like they did to Cinder Black,” Snow White sobbed. “What is true beauty? What is it that she has and I don’t?” she asked.
For a few moments, silence hung in the air. Finally, Mori spoke:
“My dear princess Snow White, true beauty comes from a person with a beautiful heart who is able to touch another person’s heart and captivate the heart and soul of another. Superficial beauty like yours comes from one’s appearance that captures the another’s mind but it does not last.”
He paused then continued,
“A person with a beautiful heart is one that loves and does kind, unselfish and sincere deeds to help others and the true smile on another’s face is a reflection of that beautiful heart. Your sister is truly beautiful because of the love she showered upon others through her beautiful heart.”

Snow White stared, comprehending slowly and then looked away shamefully. Finally, she knew what it meant. She had made a terrible mistake by blindly let jealously and vanity take over her and even tried to kill her own dear sister. With choking sobs, she apologised fevently to the crowd and frantically asked for help to carry her sister back to the palace for treatment. Soon, Cinder Black was back into the palace and a palace Healer was sent to tend to her.

Her parents were very shocked when they heard what she did. ‘How could my dear beautiful princess daughter do such a thing?’ the Queen thought to herself. Refusing to believe it, she asked Snow White if it was a lie. But Snow White cried out sobbing,
“No it was not a lie! I was… jealous…and stupid… I now know why they said Cinder Black is more beautiful than I am…
Mum, Dad! I’m sorry. ”
Snow White begged her parents for forgiveness. But her parents knew they could not lighten any punishment for the news of Snow White’s deed has already reached the ears of the visiting princes. Also, crowds of angry people had gathered outside the palace as the news travelled like wildfire from ear to ear.

"Oh that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and with hair as black as the wood of the embroidery-frame!"

The Queen jerked in realization. She had made a dreadful mistake in wishing for a daughter with beautiful looks. For that was only a empty beautiful shell. By pampering Snow White and neglecting Cinder Black, she has caused Snow White to believe only in the beauty of looks. In the end, Snow White became so obsessed with it that she almost killed her own sister. Indeed, she was blind to not love both her dear daughters equally for they are both beautiful in the own ways. The Queen weeped. For her mistake has caused her two dear daughters to suffer.
For her crime, Snow White was then sent to the Cold Palace where she would be detained and had to live humbly. But because she repented, her sentence was shortened to five years. In the end, Cinder Black was well again while Snow White became humble and wiser.

With the sudden disappearance of the enchanted mirror, the sisters’ relationship with each other soon improve tremendously. And at the high skies above, the gods and goddess of Beauty, Wisdom, Personality, Love and Fate smiled contentedly.

*P.S. Japanese names are taken from Ouran High School Host Club anime! keke :P

Story 1) Prison Window

|||||Prison Window |||||
By yuez

At first glance, it was a worthless piece of junk. The thin rectangular frame, red with rust and jagged with corrosion, hid its once sturdy origin as a top-grade Soviet steel. Its prestigious credentials made it a perfect candidate, not for building steady civilian homes, but for being a potent symbol of lost freedom. The narrow opening of the window frame, barely ten centimeters wide was adequate enough to keep the skinniest convicts from escaping.

Yet it was this very frame that preserved my life in the darkest of days. In spite of its narrowness, it still allowed moonlight to pierce the solitary darkness of my cell, giving a respite to despair. The unrelenting metal also held the very granite ceiling that crushed my fellow comrades, enabling me to live, and tell my tale. But never in my newfound, post-war life, would I ever dream of seeing it again, in the busy marketplace of modern Shenyang, fifty years the Korean War.

*

The straight-backed Communist officer, with his tanned, gaunt face scarred by the fires of war, paced around impatiently in the room. In the piece of paper held in his hand, contained the identifications, and subsequent fate, of his prisoners. Yet, before they could be disposed of, the fate of his very own life depended on their confessions.

“Our Great Leader’s magnanimity knows no bounds. Do a service to the people, why be a running dog of the American Imperialists?”

“NOOOOO. I know nothing!!”

One by one, my comrades were dragged out of their prison cells for interrogation. The officer had deliberately kept the torture chamber door ajar, allowing the torments of those inside to be heard. Four weeks into this ordeal, I became familiar with the ‘itinerary’; a defiant curse, desperate screams, groans of pain, and finally silence.

That is just as well. Dead people don’t reveal secrets. In this battle of wits, the enemy kept us alive to confess military information. On the contrary, we wanted death so we could protect our fellow comrades outside the prison walls. While it is a matter of time before someone dies, an honorable one is always preferable. From what were ten prisoners in my cell, only me and a fellow pilot was left alive. I had preferred a quicker death, but even this small favor could not be granted.

The officer came out of the interrogation room, holding a pair of rusty, bloody scissors. They had been cutting fingers off stubborn prisoners, in their desperate attempt to extract information from them. I was unnerved by this prospect, but since I am going to die anyway, does it matter if my fingers enter Heaven first?

“David Putter! You are next!”

My last cellmate screamed as the North Korean soldier dragged him out to the room, cursing his tormentors in every single way possible. As the prison gates closed again, the metallic echo that resonated sounded like my death knell. I could do nothing but lie motionless on the cold, stony floor, waiting for the tortured screams to come again. Soon, it will be my own voice screaming.

Or will it be?

Before my eyes, cut onto the walls of the prison, was a thin, elongated window. It was a special window, a symbol of hope. For from this tiny opening, we savored the fresh outside air, listened to the sounds of US warplanes bombing our enemies, and admired the stars of the night. Tears flowed down my eyes as I recalled how my cellmates climbed on each other’s shoulders, taking turns to peer at the outside world, or even attempting the impossible task of escaping.

It must have been a dozen times. A hundred times perhaps. Panting, grimacing and groaning, we had all taken turns to attempt an escape through the tiny cell window, using whatever tools available, such as wooden chopsticks provided during meals, and even our teeth. None of us succeeded, although after each failed attempt, we could not help but laugh bitterly at ourselves.

“Now I regret not going for those slimming programmes!”

“I wish my head was smaller!”

“My torso more flexible!”

But those moments were gone. Locked alone in the cell, with everyone else vanished from my sight; I was mentally prepared to eat my Last Supper. I was about to give my life for Freedom, at last. Instead of fear, a strange sense of pride engulfed me. It was bittersweet, like the water I tasted when the black rain fell through the tiny window, a placid mixture of water and soot from burning cities.

A sudden rattling of metal bars shook me from my stupor, and I saw the prison guard push a bowl of rice gruel into my cell, leaving without a word. Dragging myself across the dusty floor, I sipped the disgusting white liquid, spitting it out in no time despite my unbearable hunger. Then out nowhere, a rational voice spoke in my head.

As long there is life, there is hope.

I slowly pushed myself up, standing to face the window. Perhaps, I thought, it isn’t as small as it looks. Fed on this excellent North Korean POW diet of rice gruel for a month, I am perhaps sufficiently thin enough by now? How would not I know if I don’t try hard enough?

It is now or never.

I examined the window closely. One meter in height, fifteen centimeters in width, reinforced by steel on its edges. Located two meters above the ground, it was perfectly reachable by jumping, and possibly a determined escape. I began to tell myself that this is just like a game I used to play in childhood, when I broke into my New York apartment window after forgetting my house keys for the umpteenth time.

I would have roared like an injured tiger, but alerting the guards is the last thing on my mind. Stealth is crucial to escape. Like a nimble Ninja, I pushed my legs off the ground with all the strength I can master. My effort failed. With a dull thud, I slammed face first into the wall, breaking my nose and feeling warm blood dripping.

The spirit had been willing, but the flesh was weak.

I had forgotten how malnourished I had been, so weak that I could hardly jump. As I wiped the blood off my broken nose, I turned around fearfully for any signs of guards approaching, but there was none. David’s screams had begun to fill up the entire prison walls, his wails of agony echoing across the prison chambers, and filling my heart with an unspeakable terror. Yet this had given me cover to escape, as the guards could not hear my movements with the loud screams all over the prison.

Positioning myself at one end of the tiny prison cell, I dashed forward and leaped towards the window. With this final, insurmountable effort, my desperate fingers miraculously clasped onto a steel bar on the window. Panting frantically, I devoted every ounce of energy I had into this escape effort.

I must try to escape.

I pulled with all my might, kicking desperately against the wall, sweating profusely, even crying. David screams kept getting louder, more tortured. Nonetheless, it would be a matter of time before his screams disintegrate into pitiful wails, and eventual silence. By then, the guards would come for me, their final victim. Time is running short.

Squeeze!

My eyes finally caught sight of the world beyond the window. There was a metal fence, and beyond that fence laid vast grassland, and a river streaking across it. Bit by bit, my face squeezed into the window. First inch. Second inch… Third. Gritting my teeth, I hunched my shoulders and tried pushing them through the darned opening. It didn’t seem to budge, for the steel and rock was too solid. Why are we not like machines, which can dissemble and assemble themselves easily? Why? Why?

The window ledge was wet with my sweat, and my fingers were beginning to feel numb. Against all willpower, my tired muscles began to give way, slowly and gradually. Even my heart, which was beating with excitement seconds ago, seemed to be worn down by fatigue. I clung onto the ledge as long as I could, before the window seemed to be wretched away from my grip. Slamming onto the ground, I lost consciousness.

*

I was dreaming. I was flying solo on my plane, navigating the North Korean skies, and dodging anti-aircraft fire. My rudder had been hit, and my engine was beginning to burn out. Desperate, I pressed the faulty ejection button repeatedly, but it failed to work. As the ground loomed nearer, I pushed open the cockpit cover, and leaped into the air. I landed with a loud splash on the river, right in front of an enemy patrol.

“US Bombers! US Bombers!”

Opening my eyes, my face received the faint sunlight shining through the thin window. My eyes, blurred with tears, caught a glimpse of huge US planes flying across the sky. Every time they flew past, the North Koreans would panic, cease all activities and seek refuge in bomb shelters, leaving their prisoners to their fate; a prolonged life or a fiery end.

There were no more sounds from the interrogation room. David was probably dead by now. My escape attempt had failed, and the fleeting glimmer of idealism had given way to resignation. How can the tiny window be my route of escape? I had been too silly. There was nothing left to do now, except to wait for death.

*

I do know when the blast came, except that a searing pain on my left leg jerked me into consciousness. Smoke, dust and scotching heat surrounded me, threatening to burn into my skin. Could this possibly be the fire of Hell? I raised my hands and touched my face, hair and parched lips. They seem very real and solid, nothing like a dream, or afterlife. Nonetheless, it makes no difference. If I am not to be tortured to death, I would be burned alive in this raging fire.

Opening my eyes slowly, I surveyed my surroundings. Is this a dream? The dimensions of the cell have changed, and the window was now above me, save for miraculous gap remained between my body and the granite ceiling, with the window opening barely ten inches from my face. Through the window, I saw dozens of American bombers streaking across the sky, and then disappearing into the horizon.

I understood now, the Americans had dropped a bomb on my prison by mistake, killing most of the prisoners inside. While my luck was big enough to survive the initial impact, it was perhaps not sufficient to prevent me from being burnt alive. Suddenly, the idea of being killed instantly by falling concrete seemed attractive.

Shutting my tired eyelids, I waited as I felt the temperatures rise steadily around me, listening closely to the sound of flames licking away at the metal, wood and dead bodies. I could imagine a situation more bitter and ironic; the prison walls had collapsed, my captors killed, but freedom still remained elusive.

I do not know how long I lay trapped in the rubble, it seemed forever. My thoughts drift back to the happy old days, when I tasted my first ice cream, scored my first touchdown, and held hands with my girl Julie. I recalled my last conversation with her, before I left for American bases in Japan. She must have been very worried for me. How I longed to return to her!

The sound of planes approaching came again. I opened my eyes, wondering if it is another round of bombing. Thankfully, they were transport planes, not B-52 bombers. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, as green flowers appeared blooming en masse across the horizon, weighed down by tiny figures. They were jumping off military planes streaking across the sky, each with the familiar stars and stripes painted on its cockpit.

My fellow countrymen are parachuting into enemy territory. They would land near the prison, and rescue me from the rubble finally. There was a flash of lightning and rumble of thunder, and drops of water began to fall through the sky, drowsing out the fire timely. The raindrops fell through the window, mingled with my tears and sweat, and I licked them happily. My ordeal is going to be over.

*

“Where did you get this window frame?” I asked the Chinese seller behind his booth.

“Next to the ruins of former Yongbon prison. The North Koreans across the border sold it to me for a living. Good Soviet metal. This is!”

“Alright. I shall buy it. How much?”

Staring at me in bewilderment, the scrap metal seller could not comprehend why an eighty plus Caucasian man would want to buy this rusty junk. I paid 10 Yuan to bring the remains of the old Yongbon Prison window frame back home, a ridiculously high price for the seller. But to me, it was priceless. This was a broken window that gave me hope, in the darkest of days.

-end-

Making of the Quill

Greetings to all readers!!

Welcome to the Quill of Dreams, a story-blog set up by two crazy Singaporeans, yuez and jenn. We have decided to do something as impractical and utterly un-Singaporean as writing purely out of PASSION, instead studying hard for As or working to get our 5Cs. So please enjoy the short stories we post, and give comments if you wish. ^^

yuezjenn
29 June, 2008