Hunting Men
flash fiction in which I play games; lose
There were three reasons to play Manhunt and none of them were winning.
The first was sometimes, when the whole neighborhood played and not just my cousins, if the right kid was on my team, I got to practice kissing. The right kid changed all the time and I wanted to change, too. When he played basketball, I wore high tops. If he skateboarded on the cul-de-sac, I clipped a chain on my wallet. It jangled while we ran, but that was good: it made him want to keep me still.
Once he was a church kid, so I wore a cross. It didn’t get me what I wanted. We were on the same team, but not really. When church kid told me no, I said he wasn’t my type anyway. He raised his eyebrows and laughed even as I wished I hadn’t said it. They found us then because he ran out of our bush, away from me, and I was left stung and sore.
This brings me to the second point of Manhunt, which was to build a thicker skin. The deeper I went into the forest, the longer I could fend off my inevitable loss (or, more importantly, find enough privacy to kiss). But that meant the running back to base was harder and thornier, risked more poison ivy, ended more often than not with skinned knees and battered ankles to match my swollen lips. I had to learn to love to lose; I had to lick my own wounds after.
I only won once, and that was when the third point stuck to me. That night my team was cousins and mouth breathers. None of them the right kids, no kisses in sight. I zipped my black hoodie all the way up over my set-trap tank top. I skirted the shadowed edge of the forest. I read the backs of my enemies. Long before they felt the endgame creeping up, I sprinted to the telephone pole and skidded into it, dodging their groping hands. The secret to winning was becoming invisible.
I didn’t win again – too many kisses to be had – but once I learned to dissolve, I didn’t need the game to do it. I lay in bed and pretended to sleep before sneaking down the dark stairs. That’s how I watched the movies my Dad liked, where women wore lace nighties and tilted their heads up like baby birds. That’s how I stole my first bottle, vodka pilfered from the lights-out kitchen behind my Mom’s back. That’s how I learned about their divorce before they told me. My thick skin helped me not cry when they finally did.
I poured some of the vodka into a water bottle and shared it with the right kid the next time we were on the same team. He was a football player who ignored me in the hallways, but that night I got to tilt my head up like a baby bird. He licked tears off my cheeks. That changed me, too.
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For the Love of Samosas
Prologue Today's post is short fiction in honor of all the hassled parents trying to keep their angsty teens in line. "Bye mum! I'm not coming home for lunch today. I'll be going to Mac's with Kelvin and his buddies before we head to his house to study for a test." With that, Adam Lim careened like the Flash out of his humble HDB abode.
By Michelle Liew4 days ago in Fiction
Peaceful Purpose
I have noticed that in the professional sphere, as far as I have noticed, that many people choose to come to work, mainly with the intention of collecting a paycheck, which I completely understand, unfortunately, we all need money to survive in this world. I also feel very strongly about the fact that if you are going to work in a profession, you should certainly treat that profession, whatever it may be, with the dignity that its purpose entails, whether you are working in the medical field, or working at a fast food restaurant, you should do you best to do the best job you can, because when it comes right down to it, we are all humans, going through the trials, and challenges that this life can bring us, by working together.
By Kaylon Forsyth6 days ago in Humans
Comments (23)
Congrats on your victory.
I like the honesty and integrity of the story. Make me want to play man hunt again lol
Congrats on Top Story! :)
This touched me really deep 🫶🖤
This is so beautiful. There's something about the last line that was so perfect, "That changed me, too." I feel like that speaks volumes in only a few words!
Suze your tales are like a piece of history, and feel transformative! So beautiful, and sad, and curious, and exciting
I could picture everything like a movie, extremely vivid and well written
This is one of the best, most authentic stories I have read on this platform. You should absolutely get a Top Story. I am sharing this. Keep on the theme a bit longer maybe? 🤔
Nice writing
This is highly absorbent. How closely linked are becoming invisible and becoming a narrator, in your estimation?
Tilt head like baby bird was such a good and unique description!!
Very good
TALES OF YOUNGER DAYS! LOVE THIS!
This is an excellent tale of adolescence, and feels so real. Well done and congrats on the TS.
The way you describe having to express intimacy and “adultness” through childlike games is so interesting! I loved the concept and how real it is/how you tell the story!
Ah, the erroneous errors and comprehension of adolescence...and the lessons we learn. I love how you tell that story!
Excellent, adolescence in full broiling chaos.
Suze you capture real life so amazingly well. I would never have linked manhunt and later teenage debauchery together so perfectly, but you made it seem nothing more than natural. Loved this
Such a fun story. It took me back to my younger years when we played soccer softball, hide and seek and any number of games in the street. I've always lived in the suburbs so we didn't have the forest to run in and play. Thank you so much for sharing such a wonderful story.
I have always believed that to be a true writer, you have to experience life to its limits - for that is where joy, terror and sadness are found; and you have to vicariously experience those same things in the lives of others. Your writing demonstrates all of that and more with deceptive ease, as if telling the truth about life and the world is simply second nature. You are a wonderful storyteller, Suze. It's both a wonder and a joy to read your words.
Damn, Suze! I just love your writing so much. This is excellent. In such a short span of words, you take us through childhood to adolescence and that final loss of innocence. You are so masterful.
Beautifully written, Suze. Writing without seams, as if effortless. ❤️
I simply love your writing. Your stories speak truths to me with words that my life remembers when they come along, like the thoughts that weren't yet here.