Shortlisted
Shady Dealings
Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Joelle Chow, 13
T
here was something… off about the man before me. It wasn’t the worn looking, sun-
bleached clothes, nor was it the way he towered over me, fingers tap-tapping on the
counter. It wasn’t his crooked nose or the leering mouth. No, it was his eyes, dark and
menacing, flicking coldly around the store too often, narrowing when they came to rest
on the final item between us- they were unsettling and I wished the exchange over.
“Thiz (This). Thiz iz (is) the last item of my collection,” he hissed, nudging the thick silver bangle with the honey
red jewel embedded into it across the counter using a long bony digit. I barely spared a glance towards the papers
that verified everything in the box authentic, focusing on the jewellery instead. The bangle was a simple band, with
runes swirling across the large carnelian adorning the bracelet. The carnelian itself, like the man, was
strangely haunting.
“There iz a story behind thiz one, do you want to ‘ear (hear) it?” the seller smirked, but there
was now uncertainty hidden in his stare. Uncertainty? What was there to be uncertain about? I
nodded in response, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before his husky voiced swelled up,
over and around the small space of
ү
нэт эдлэл ба урлагийн эртний бүтээл
- Gems and Antiques.
The words were sporadic, broken; but they soon formed an odd rhythmic melody- a song, almost.
Cold, frozen in the land of three continents.
A small quartet of weary travellers trekked
unaware of dangers ahead. The sky
filled with glowing embers and a storm iz coming.
Loose blankets of sand drifted on the breeze, a warning.
Ahead, newlyweds in a ger, with new jewels adorning
the Gundbekhs’ arms, nomads ‘appily (happily) living
in the rocky, scarcely humid Gobi. A deathtrap,
where your death could be at the hands
of fate. They truly were perilous lands.
Relieved the travellers were when they saw the ger,
begged to stay, protection from the storm.
Generous were the Gundbekhs,
shelter, sustainment offered and requests were met.
But they had no clue of the ‘arboured (harboured) secret.
For the travellers weren’t idle travellers, no
good men were they.
Bandits, thieves, robbers-they took with greed.
They only saw flashes the golden trinkets made.
No thankfulness for the tempest they’d escaped.
