This one really hit me in the gut! I really loved the last line. I like that it both establishes reaching adulthood but also hints towards some sort of inner calm, as opposed to drinking bitter coffee for some stressful energy. Great job!
Adults. As children, we always thought of them as boring, tired, rule-loving, grouchy people. We all knew that our parents were once kids at some point, but no one quite knew how us adventure-loving, excitable children became like that. We probably just assumed that children, at one point, just woke up one day and suddenly decided that they liked sleeping and coffee (or tea), out of all things.
Still, we wanted to grow up anyways, because adults got to do all the cool things! But growing up wasn’t instant. We promised ourselves that, when we grew up, we wouldn’t become like our parents, that we would stay the same fun-loving kid we were.
So we waited. We learnt and did more and more, as we graduated from kindergarten and then primary school.
We realised that you didn’t just become an adult.
The change was gradual, like watching sand fall from an hourglass. Each grain of sand was so small that we couldn’t tell the difference. But together, adding up to something huge.
Everyone seated in neat orderly rows, the teacher frequently shushing the class. No talking was allowed.
The first time ordering milo kosong (plain milo) from the drink stall uncle. Practicing the words in your head to 20 times before we actually said it.
The disappointment when the teacher gave out homework. No one liked spending an hour to complete our homework.
Cheers when we were dismissed. Before the groan, when you remembered you still had CCA today. Until four.
And when we stopped to check the hourglass, the bottom triangle was about a third full.
“Are we adults yet?” we asked, bright-eyed and hopeful. The mound of sand was so huge, and we’d already learnt so much!
But the adults shook their heads and pointed to the small pile of sand at the bottom. “Not yet,” they replied.
So we waited. More and more work and responsibilities were piled on us as we transitioned to secondary school.
The tables slightly askew, even if someone organised it earlier, the silence following the teacher’s question. Everyone felt too tired to speak up.
Your order of teh c siew dai (tea with evaporated milk, less sugar) replacing the milo. There was something addicting about this flavour of tea.
The sighs when homework was assigned. We were probably going to complete it the day before, anyway.
You starting to cheer after dismissal, only to sag with the realisation that there was still CCA. Until six.
And when we remembered to check the hourglass, it was about two-thirds filled.
“Are we adults yet?” you asked, eyebags under your eyes, voice low and flat. You didn’t really care.
But the adults shook their heads and pointed at the empty space. “Not yet,” they replied.
So you waited. Time flew by as JC came around.
The desks were built into the floor, as neat as can be. Complete silence during a lecture, most of the students were sleep-deprived.
The horror when you realised you didn’t mind coffee anymore, that you could consume the bitter substance that was comparable to medicine.
Clutching your head in defeat as homework as given. You silently noted it down. There was no time to even put it off.
Not bothering to cheer after dismissal. You just wanted to go home and sleep.
You blinked as the hourglass appeared before your eyes. You had forgotten to check it. The bottom half was almost full.
“Are we- am I- am I an adult yet?”
The adults said nothing as they pointed to the last bit of sand left, slowly trickling away.
Fear gripped you. “No, no, please, not yet! I’m not ready to go out in the world, not ready to be an adult! Where did my childhood go?”
“Not yet,” they repeated, “not yet, but almost.”
You could only wait, as the grains of sand fell one by one.
You wanted a cup of tea.
This one really hit me in the gut! I really loved the last line. I like that it both establishes reaching adulthood but also hints towards some sort of inner calm, as opposed to drinking bitter coffee for some stressful energy. Great job!
Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
First Impression: This is a very powerful little tale here. Its such a simple little idea to capture the feeling of growing up but you absolutely nail it here through that entire progress upward from excited and ready to sort of dreading it to just wanting it to be delayed. Its very well done there.
Anyway let's get right to it,
Adults. As children, we always thought of them as boring, tired, rule-loving, grouchy people. We all knew that our parents were once kids at some point, but no one quite knew how us adventure-loving, excitable children became like that. We probably just assumed that children, at one point, just woke up one day and suddenly decided that they liked sleeping and coffee (or tea), out of all things.
Still, we wanted to grow up anyways, because adults got to do all the cool things! But growing up wasn’t instant. We promised ourselves that, when we grew up, we wouldn’t become like our parents, that we would stay the same fun-loving kid we were.
So we waited. We learnt and did more and more, as we graduated from kindergarten and then primary school.
We realised that you didn’t just become an adult.
The change was gradual, like watching sand fall from an hourglass. Each grain of sand was so small that we couldn’t tell the difference. But together, adding up to something huge.
Everyone seated in neat orderly rows, the teacher frequently shushing the class. No talking was allowed.
The first time ordering milo kosong (plain milo) from the drink stall uncle. Practicing the words in your head to 20 times before we actually said it.
The disappointment when the teacher gave out homework. No one liked spending an hour to complete our homework.
Cheers when we were dismissed. Before the groan, when you remembered you still had CCA today. Until four.
And when we stopped to check the hourglass, the bottom triangle was about a third full.
“Are we adults yet?” we asked, bright-eyed and hopeful. The mound of sand was so huge, and we’d already learnt so much!
But the adults shook their heads and pointed to the small pile of sand at the bottom. “Not yet,” they replied.
So we waited. More and more work and responsibilities were piled on us as we transitioned to secondary school.
The tables slightly askew, even if someone organised it earlier, the silence following the teacher’s question. Everyone felt too tired to speak up.
Your order of teh c siew dai (tea with evaporated milk, less sugar) replacing the milo. There was something addicting about this flavour of tea.
The sighs when homework was assigned. We were probably going to complete it the day before, anyway.
You starting to cheer after dismissal, only to sag with the realisation that there was still CCA. Until six.
And when we remembered to check the hourglass, it was about two-thirds filled.
“Are we adults yet?” you asked, eyebags under your eyes, voice low and flat. You didn’t really care.
But the adults shook their heads and pointed at the empty space. “Not yet,” they replied.
So you waited. Time flew by as JC came around.
The desks were built into the floor, as neat as can be. Complete silence during a lecture, most of the students were sleep-deprived.
The horror when you realised you didn’t mind coffee anymore, that you could consume the bitter substance that was comparable to medicine.
Clutching your head in defeat as homework as given. You silently noted it down. There was no time to even put it off.
Not bothering to cheer after dismissal. You just wanted to go home and sleep.
You blinked as the hourglass appeared before your eyes. You had forgotten to check it. The bottom half was almost full.
“Are we- am I- am I an adult yet?”
The adults said nothing as they pointed to the last bit of sand left, slowly trickling away.
Fear gripped you. “No, no, please, not yet! I’m not ready to go out in the world, not ready to be an adult! Where did my childhood go?”
“Not yet,” they repeated, “not yet, but almost.”
You could only wait, as the grains of sand fell one by one.
You wanted a cup of tea.
Hi there! I'm reviewing using the YWS S'more Method today!
Hello again! When I first came across this excellent work a few minutes ago, I knew it deserved a good review. And I decided to use this sandwich method! (nope, that is not the name - you can see official name of this method up there)
Top Graham Cracker - What I Know
Your writing style is very...mature? Like, I mean it in the written sense. You can easily feel from him that you are not an amateur, that you already have something written. You have such an incredibly readable way of writing!
Slightly Burnt Marshmallow - Room for Improvements
I don't see any extra significant mistakes here, or any things that would bother me. Some abbreviations were not familiar to me, but later I noticed the comment below, and I understood what each meant.
Chocolate Bar - Highlights of the Piece
I love this job! The way you work with the theme of growing up and the fact that in the end we all really want to be kids again. The short story is written in such a way that I can relate to it incredibly easily. I also like the division of the text into what is italicized and what is not. And the ending... is apt. Everything about this story is very apt.
Closing Graham Cracker - Closing Thoughts
Thank you for this great work! I haven't come across a short story that really interested me in a long time - you changed that! So what more can I say...that's all, keep writing - I'd love to read more from you. Have a nice day/night/whatever!
Wow, this looks really great! I am sure I will come again and leave some serious review, but until then... amazing work.
Hi there! I just want to say,
Wow! I really enjoyed reading this!! It's really well written, a very powerful tale. I love the way it manages to be simple and incredibly impactful at the same time! I find it incredibly relatable.
Only one thing though, I didn't understand what CCA and JC mean, I assume it's a coaching class or a tuition of a type, I tried looking it up but nothing I found really fit.
Take care!
--KB
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