Hi, I’m Brian Dys — a photographer from the inside looking out · a composer entangled in electronic music · a UX designer · a spouse, a parent, & everything in between.
About Snippet
Categories
0
Comment
I was enjoying the afternoon sun when the sky suddenly wept. There we were… sinking paper boats in the puddle.
My brother made a boat out of styrofoam. He powered it with some dynamo he got from a broken toy racing car. That was the time I learned how to play with batteries and masking tapes.
While propelling in our vast garden flood, we shot it with pebbles. We burned the hell out of that boat. How mesmerizing the melting foam was.
Originally published in leave.myblogsite.com.
Categories
We went home to Helen’s house after catching up too late in the streets of San Roque. I told her to stop trying beer too much.
Her house was the closest so we proceeded. There was her mom sleeping, head on the dining table. I wasn’t that sleepy so I headed for a coffee.
I waited for several hours… for several brewing hours and yet, the frappuccino I ordered wasn’t even lukewarm.
I slept at the coffee shop comfort room.
Originally published in leave.myblogsite.com.
Categories
The table had vanished. All we can see were food. Seafood, oil food, wheat, and everything in between. You see, it was our parents twentieth year wedding anniversary.
My siblings and I were seated like audience to the sweetness of our folks. We were witnesses and evidence to the bond they have over the years.
My little brother was dancing Macarena. I think he was mocking some waiters. They should dance to that song while serving food. That would be swell.
Originally published in leave.myblogsite.com.
Categories
I swear, I saw two turtles swimming in our garden flood. All the kids were playing in the rain. There I was, watching them by the second floor window.
My room is a bit damp, and stuff toy-smell could really be tangy. I just wanted to let my face sag and let my fingers tinker on the sill.
As soon as the rain stopped, I searched for the turtles. My feet glided, ignoring what the water had in store. I swear, I wasn’t dreaming of turtles.
Originally published in leave.myblogsite.com.
Categories
I picked up an almond from my mocha ice cream. It was 6:30 in the evening when it fell out of my mouth. It must be caused by Karen’s taunting that I can’t make a trap out of this sand mountain.
I jaw-dropped to my disdain. So, after I digged a foot-deep and covered it with newspaper, I sprinkled sand on top to conceal the hole. By the way, we half-filled it with drainage dirt.
I dusted off the almond. I don’t like it with sand coating. A step back and I fell. Stinky foot!
Categories
Commenting is disabled.
She dresses for the weather. The canopy of clouds only depicts immaturity. But she is sure.. it is a lonely painting if she were to frame the world outside. As she opens the door from the darkness of her room, the mood is finalized.. She remembers her mother pinning clothes fresh from cleaning.
A curve slowly forms on her lips, she smiles.. answering mother’s idyllic glance. The breeze is the dampness of cloth and the breath of soil is another story.
She hears their pet cat purr. Grandfather is watering plants while she watches by the window. Butterflies flutter as it showers, birds sing early in the morning. Mother calls her.. mentions her name like it is a sweet and funny song. One last take, she relishes the tinge of water and earth.
She is a girl who likes to run whenever someone calls her. She never runs away. Before she even gets close to where the voice comes from, their pet dog fawns at her.
“What’s your name?” A girl with a red umbrella asks as she pats a neighborhood dog on stroll. At a distant, she does not move for the moment.. and for moments that pass by.
It begins to drizzle. She sees herself dressed for the weather and moves on.
—
Originally published in happyobituary.blogspot.com on 10 February 2005 3:56 pm.