Sharon X Wong

Writer of words. Builder of worlds.

Category: Stories and Poems Page 1 of 2

Summer at Hotel Fulcrum, Part 4: Decluttering

This is the fourth part of my fortnightly serial. If you missed Part 3, you can read it here.

Part 4: Decluttering

Hela was waiting by the front desk when Janet showed up for her shift the next day.

“You again? When do I meet the rest of the staff?” Janet winced. “I mean, sorry.” Think before you open your damn mouth.

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Summer at Hotel Fulcrum, Part 3: Anchor

This is the third part of my fortnightly serial. If you missed Part 2, you can read it here.

Part 3: Anchor

Janet slumped against the wall, eyes fixed on the gaping hole had replaced most of the lobby floor. She was vaguely aware of people crammed against the other walls, but she could not look away from the bottomless depth at her feet. “What the hell is going on?”

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Stars and Night: A Poem

This poem is an attempt to use the same structure/rhyming scheme as Robert Frost’s Fire and Ice.

Can we place trust in distant stars
When it is night?
When past regrets deal out their scars
When times of darkness come to pass
Will blackness truly blind our sight?
Or will hope, fearless, pierce the dark
And shine through tiny points of light?
Could just one spark
Light up the night?

Summer at Hotel Fulcrum, Part 2: First Shift

This is the second part of my fortnightly serial. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here.

Part 2: First Shift

Hotel Fulcrum was a square brick building, four stories high, roof tiled in white. No balconies — no view. No valet attendant, just a square car park, almost empty. On the other side of the car park was a petrol station. Nothing special. Nothing out of the ordinary.

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The Dream Builders

Okay. This is an exercise in imagination. A thought exercise. Just go with me for a minute, and imagine this is all true.

In fact, I want you to imagine that everything is true. Everything you ever thought of, every story you ever read, every lie you ever told. All true, all real. Not here, of course. This world is a very strict, rules based world where not everything is possible. But out there, somewhere, in some other dimension that we can’t quite reach, it all exists. And here’s the thing: it all exists because we believe in it. In fact, we don’t even have to believe in it! Just imagine it. That daydream you had about the perfect life, the perfect job, your dream house, your dream man or woman? All there, somewhere. Just out of reach.

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Summer at Hotel Fulcrum, Part 1: Interview

This is Part 1 of my new fortnightly serial. Stick around to find out what happens next!

Part 1: Interview

“So,” said Janet Ling, “I guess those are the skills I could use to work here at Hotel Fulcrum.” She coughed. “I do have a variety of them.”

“I see,” said her interviewer, Mr. James L. Smith, Hotel Manager. (The glossy black name-plaque with the gold scrolling was difficult to ignore.) He examined the resume that lay on the mahogany desk before him.

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Hell on Earth

Hell was full. It had taken all the souls it could possibly take, filled every space. But every day, every hour, the souls kept on coming in. 

“A place must be found for them,” said the Devil. 

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Reality Phase (It’s gonna rain)

Preamble

This is was partly inspired by the Matrix and every Matrix-like story, but mostly it was inspired by Steve Reich’s first experiment with phasing, It’s Gonna Rain. I actually like phasing as a technique and enjoy later works like Piano Phase and Violin Phase. On the other hand, the first part of It’s Gonna Rain (The phrase ‘It’s gonna rain’, on repeat, slightly out of sync, for about eight minutes) is akin to being punched in the head repeatedly for eight minutes. I started out trying to replicate this in prose form but fortunately, I don’t think I succeeded.

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Sonnetina

This poem is a product of the fact that I couldn’t get past the similarity of the words ‘sonnet’ and ‘sonata’ out of my head (and they do have similar roots). I’m not sure what to take from this, other than that puns may not always be the best basis for poetry.

Begin as always with a tonic theme
Expositing a stately melody
Then answer dominant enters the scene
A contrast in the mood and harmony
Develop, then, the themes that went before
In exploration of some modulations
Where fragmentary tunes repeat once more
In sequences that lead to revelation
Present again theme one and then theme two
Now recapitulating, coming home
But both now in the tonic key ensue
No more in modulations will they roam
And thus by following the forms of art
We, on a journey, take the human heart

Night, Lake: A Poem

Cold night 
Deep lake 
Stars bright
Moon white
Still water 
Mirrors sky 
Stone splashes 
Breaking images 
Rippling shimmering 
Moonlight glimmering 
Starlight flickering 
Widening waves 
Slowly settle 
Still again 
Cold lake 
Deep night

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