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one * her smile becomes the first thing that pops into his head— involuntarily. daniel has too many fond memories of her, but she no longer exists in his world. she’s somewhere far away, still alive. not within reach. sometimes he thinks of what her life might’ve become, only to realize that he has no idea. she could be any type of person. he doesn’t know her anymore, yet he doesn’t feel sadness when thinking of her. madeleine is no longer sixteen, and nor is he. years have passed, but daniel still hopes she’ll do well. she always did, even if he wasn’t the best of influences. “we’re moving back to london.” a bittersweet ending, leaving the taste of iron on his tongue. a first love is always too many emotions at once, but he concludes that she was made out of joy.
two * a gold-enameled wristwatch that glimmers under the hot victoria sun. it’s december when he actually mentions it. daniel is six years old and his father is pushing him in a swing in the nearby park. the sand tickles his bare soles, his stomach tickles every time he asks for more, and the swing is almost close enough to the sky for him to touch the clouds, at least in a child’s eyes. the watch looks like a gold version of mickey mouse, he thinks. the gears at the top that adjust the time seem like little ears, and he imagines a face in the middle of it. the design of the watch stays with daniel even to the age of fourteen, when he asks his father to inherit the watch at some point. it’s one of the few times his father just smiles in response, nods and agrees. they haven’t felt the same way about anything since daniel was below school age. fourteen years old, and his skin is tainted for the first time. it’s a depiction of the mickey mouse-looking watch on his wrist, and although his mother screams in terror, his father defends a sin under god’s holy book for the first and last time.
three * an uncle daniel wasn’t supposed to be left alone with. the uncle that everyone stayed away from as much as possible, but he was more so intrigued. a silent man whom could mainly be found at the back of his garage, polishing his motorcycles. not a word in english directed at daniel although the man had lived in port moresby where english reigned the land. every time a young boy curiously peeked inside while he was working on his bikes, a stern command in tok pisin told the boy to grab this and that tool. the names of them where never mentioned, only what they looked like. the smell of oil and metal mixed to together infused into the boy’s clothing, with a few stains here and there. the boy slowly but surely grew older, and the uncle also. grey hairs in contrast to young, restless muscles that took over the work in a few years time. a cane in contrast to carrying heavy parts and attaching them to the bikes in a robotic fashion. “ducati’s are the best. nothing can beat their impeccable design.” and so daniel receives a ducati at his front door in korea at the age of twenty, two years before his uncle passed. every time he sits on it, it takes him back to the days in a stuffy garage with no ventilation. sweat drips, laughter ensues.
four * whenever daniel sits down behind a set of drums, his blood starts rushing. it’s almost to the point that he can hears it flood his veins and make it impossible for his fingers to stay still. he grabs the worn out drumsticks and creates a beat for his friends to follow. the bass joins him in a muffled tune, and the strings of the guitar dance on the consistent waves of his snare. when music came into his life, everything didn’t feel as hopeless anymore as an angst-filled teenager. he plays until his hands are sore and his knees are weak. daniel doesn’t regret a thing, instead he shouts in excitement when his heels start to give up every time he forces his foot down the pedal of the bass drum. rock might be unholy, yet again, but he decides it’s worth being unholy for.
five * a fluffy black and white puppy sits in a little glass box in a pet shop in incheon, clearly much bigger than the other pups in their boxes. daniel just walks by as the puppy chases her own tail in boredom. a glass box is no place for a dog, let alone a malamute cross. he reads a little handwritten not on the window that the puppy howls a lot, but wants love nonetheless. in that moment, daniel slows down. she howls with her barely audible voice, it’s more of a squeak than anything. he knows you’re not supposed to support pet shops by giving them money for a dog. he knows that very well, but he still doesn’t stop himself from walking into the store and picking her up. in pure excitement she wags her tail fast enough to almost fall out of his arms. she squeaks again, pushes her wet little nose into the collar of his shirt. daniel comes home with a puppy that chews up a pair of way too expensive loafers and knocks a few plants down. he still wouldn’t replace bandit with any other companion, even when she scares the living out of his neighbors as she grows, and grows and grows.
