Stories, and then Some...

"if that was what puppy love's suppose to be like, then the puppy really took it's stupid time to grow up."

"yeah, i guess so..."

"besides, if it *really* was puppy love, it should be dead by now. what, eleven years? dogs die after eleven years, you know."

"uhm..."

"'uhm...' what? what's that look on your face?"

"how come i still hear it yapping every now and then here?" ...

and i finally saw a shooting star streaking down on that piece of sky one sweaty summer night.

"was that life or love?", i asked him. i knew he was there. his visits have become frequent of late. and we talk at that time when the city gets tired and calms itself for the day after.

he showed his face, a silhouette in the dark, and gave me what could have been a sheepish smile. he knew the answer, but was not allowed to reveal it to me.

"you ...

one night, a creature of contradiction buried its fangs into my chest, making my heart skip not a few beats, leaving behind tell-tale marks that asked not a few questions about the nature of order and chaos.

in some dark alley, a harbinger of chaos strayed me into a labyrinth of streets in that unexplored city full of throbbing memories. it whispered some strange stories: spies being sent out to see the comings and goings at someone's door, secret departures and undeclared battles, ...