Shear Secrets
Anna settled into Bella's chair, the familiar scent of hairspray and gossip already a comforting aroma. "Morning, Bella! Did you hear what happened at the Majlis last night? Apparently, Encik Rahim's wife..." Anna leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
Bella, expertly sectioning Anna's hair, chuckled. "Oh, tell me everything! Mary was just saying something about that when she came in for her weekly wash and blow."
Just then, Dolly bustled in, her usual cheerful demeanor slightly dimmed. "Morning, ladies. Traffic was horrendous! Honestly, with the price of petrol these days, you'd think they'd fix the roads."
Mary, perched on a plush waiting chair, nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it, Dolly. My son just started a new job, and the cost of commuting is eating into his salary. This economic situation is really biting."
Tina, her freshly highlighted hair gleaming, chimed in. "It's tough all around. My Siti is working such long hours at that big tech company. Good money, thankfully, but I barely see her."
Bella snipped away, her ears taking in every word. "Speaking of busy, have you all noticed how many Grab and Lalamove riders there are now? It's amazing! No one seems to cook anymore. Just tap on your phone, and poof, food arrives."
Anna sighed contentedly. "It's a lifesaver, especially after a long day. Though sometimes I miss the smell of home-cooked meals."
The conversation flowed like the strands of hair falling to the floor – a mix of personal joys and shared anxieties. Dolly recounted her neighbor's suspicions about her husband's late nights, while Mary proudly shared news of her daughter's promotion. Tina worried about the rising cost of her groceries, and Anna confessed her secret indulgence in online shopping to cope with the stress.
Bella, the silent confidante, listened with a knowing smile, her hands deftly shaping and styling. Shear Secrets wasn't just a place to get a new look; it was a sanctuary where the women of Shah Alam could gather, share their burdens, celebrate their triumphs, and find solace in the comforting rhythm of their shared lives. As they left, each woman carried not only a fresh hairstyle but also the unspoken understanding that they weren't alone in navigating the complexities of life in their vibrant city.
TESSA YUSOFF
16 May 2025
Shear Secrets: #ShortStory #Fiction #Hairsalon #Relationships #Friends #Hairspray
From A&W Dreams to Kopitiam Realities
The chipped Formica tabletop at the old kopitiam held the ghosts of countless conversations. Ramli, Rita, Joe, and Jenny settled into their usual corner booth, the familiar scent of strong Hainan coffee and toasted kaya bread wrapping around them like an old friend. A year had spun by since their last meet-up, a year that had etched subtle lines of worry onto their faces.
"Ah, this roti kawin still tastes the same," Ramli sighed contentedly, tearing off a piece of the perfectly toasted bread slathered with kaya and butter. "Remember how we used to fight over the last piece?"
Rita managed a small smile. "And the nasi lemak bungkus… always the best here." But her eyes held a shadow. The recent loss of her part-time teaching gig weighed heavily.
Jenny nodded, picking at the corner of her napkin. Six months without work felt like an eternity. The vibrant energy she usually exuded was noticeably dimmed.
Joe, usually booming with the confidence of a business owner, stirred his coffee slowly. "The construction industry's been… quiet," he admitted, the lack of new projects and a constant hum of anxiety in the background.
Even Ramli, the ever-reliable doctor, confessed to a quieter clinic. "Fewer sniffles and aches these days, it seems."
A comfortable silence fell, punctuated only by the clinking of cups and the murmur of other patrons. They were all navigating the shifting sands of their lives, a far cry from the carefree days they often reminisced about.
"Remember A&W?" Jenny said suddenly, a nostalgic smile finally gracing her lips. "That was the height of romance back then. Root beer floats and coney dogs… we thought we were living the high life."
Joe chuckled. "Taking a girl to A&W was a major operation. Saving up our pocket money for weeks!"
Rita's eyes softened. "It felt so simple then, didn't it? A movie and an A&W date, and the world was our oyster."
Ramli nodded, his gaze drifting towards the bustling street outside. "Life had fewer… complications."
They lingered over their coffee, the shared memories a warm balm against their present concerns. The kopitiam, with its unchanging menu and familiar atmosphere, offered a sense of continuity, a reminder of the enduring bonds of their friendship.
The challenges they faced were real, but so too was the unspoken support they found in each other's company. As they eventually rose to leave, there was a renewed sense of quiet resilience in their steps, a shared understanding that even amidst the shifting tides, they weren't alone. The ghosts of happy memories lingered, a gentle promise of brighter days ahead, fueled by the simple comfort of good company and a shared past.
TESSA YUSOFF
15 May 2025
From A&W Dreams to Kopitiam Realities: #ShortStory #Fiction #Kopitiam #Relationships #Friends #A&W
The Shattered Legacy
The clatter echoed in the otherwise quiet apartment, sharp and final. Adia froze, her hand still outstretched towards the now-empty space on the shelf. Below, shards of intricately patterned ceramic lay scattered across the polished wooden floor, like fallen petals of a vibrant, impossible flower. Dave's special vase. The one his grandmother had left him. The one he’d always handled with such reverence.
A wave of nausea washed over Adia. Dave would be home any minute. She glanced at the clock on the microwave – 6:17 PM. He was usually back by 6:30. Panic began to tighten its grip.
Her first instinct was to gather the pieces, her mind racing with impossible scenarios. Could she glue it back together so perfectly he wouldn’t notice? A quick assessment of the jagged edges and the sheer number of fragments dashed that hope. It would be Frankenstein's monster of a vase, a constant reminder of her clumsiness.
She swept up the larger pieces, her movements jerky and inefficient. Dust motes danced in the last rays of the setting sun, illuminating the irreparable damage. Tears pricked at her eyes. It wasn't just a vase; it was a piece of Dave's history, a tangible link to someone he loved.
Just as she was on her knees, carefully collecting the smallest splinters, she heard the key turning in the lock. Her breath hitched.
Dave walked in, his usual easy smile in place. "Hey," he said, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Adia's hunched figure amidst the debris. His smile faltered. "What happened?"
Adia stood up, holding a handful of broken pieces. Her voice trembled. "Dave, I... I'm so sorry. I was dusting, and I accidentally knocked it off. I didn't mean to. It's just..." The words caught in her throat.
Dave's expression was unreadable for a moment. He walked over to the scattered remains, his gaze lingering on the fractured patterns. He knelt down, picking up a large, curved shard.
Adia braced herself for anger, for disappointment, for the familiar sting of letting him down. But instead, Dave sighed, a sound that held more resignation than fury.
"It was old," he said quietly, tracing the broken edge with his finger. "Fragile, really."
Adia watched him, surprised. "But it meant so much to you."
He looked up at her, his eyes surprisingly calm. "It did. It reminded me of her. But memories aren't just in objects, are they?"
He stood up and gently took the pieces from Adia's hand, placing them on the nearby counter. "We can't put it back together, not really. It will always be broken."
Adia’s shoulders slumped. "I feel terrible."
Dave walked over to her and took her hands in his. "Hey," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers. "Accidents happen. It's just a thing."
But Adia knew it wasn't just a thing. It was a symbol. And Dave's reaction wasn't what she had expected.
"But... shouldn't you be upset?" she asked. "It was irreplaceable."
Dave squeezed her hands. "Maybe. But what would being upset achieve? It wouldn't fix the vase. It would just make us both feel bad." He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, I've been thinking lately... about a lot of things. About holding onto the past so tightly that you don't have room for anything new."
He gestured towards the broken pieces on the counter. "Maybe this is a sign. A clumsy, unfortunate sign, but a sign nonetheless."
Adia looked at the shattered remains, then back at Dave. A flicker of understanding began to dawn. He wasn't trying to piece together the past; he was accepting the break.
"So... what are you saying?" she asked tentatively.
Dave smiled, a genuine, warm smile this time. "I'm saying we can get a new vase. One that we choose together. One that holds new memories." He put his arm around her. "Or maybe we don't even need a vase. Maybe we can find something completely different to put on that shelf."
Adia leaned into him, a sense of relief washing over her, mingled with a newfound appreciation for Dave's quiet strength. He wasn't trying to recapture what was lost; he was looking forward. The broken vase, in its destruction, had somehow cleared space for something new, something shared. And in that moment, Adia realized that sometimes, the most beautiful things can emerge not from flawless preservation, but from the acceptance of what is broken and the courage to build anew.
TESSA YUSOFF
6 May 2025
The Shattered Legacy: #ShortStory #Fiction #BeautifulVase #Relationships
