MFU Literary Magazine Vol.4

S C H O O L

O F

L I B E R A L

A R T S

MFU

Literary

MAGAZINE V O L . 4

| S U P E R N A T U R A L

P O E T R Y | F I C T I O N

S C H O O L

O F

L I B E R A L

A R T S

MFU

Literary

MAGAZINE V O L . 4

| S U P E R N A T U R A L

P O E T R Y | F I C T I O N

Editors Talk " What do you think when you first hear the word " Super Natural ? " A ghost ?

Yes. Something magical ?

Yes !

Something unexplainable?

Maybe.

Something only for kids?

Absolutely not !

The supernatural has many different meanings. It can mean whatever you want to believe. And no one can stop you from believing it. In this volume, you will discover some of the meanings of the supernatural shared by our writers. After reading these texts, you may find your own definition. Are you ready to wander into our world? Let’s explore the supernatural together!

- Fiction Team To all art appreciators, SUperpower does exist in art, we believe.

PERfectly imperfect pieces have been picked, NArrating through rhythmically styled aesthetics, TUne composed with eerily mysterious magic.

RALly to read, flip the page, and be awe-ware of SUPERNATURAL ! !

- Poetry Team -

Table of Contents 01 Editors Talk

02

07

Table of Contents

Poetry Supernatural

04

09

Poetry - Bedtime

Poetry - Hmm...

05

10

Poetry - Special Eyes

Fiction - Masquerade

06

15

Poetry Someone Is Crying

Visual Art

Poetry

BEDTIME Trembling by the nights Silhouettes here, nameless blights Slept claiming, one as white -Mr. Suebsin Boonsutii-

Special Eyes

She wakes up at night She sees a smiling man That no one can see - Ms. Piyarat Duangmala -

Someone Is Crying The crying is loud Do not go and check that sound It may frighten you - Ms. Piyarat Duangmala -

Supernatural I need a supernatural To complete all I need Cause I’m not an immortal Who have enough time to fulfill all my greed I need the supernatural Cause I can’t turn back in time To fix everything that had gone wrong Like the protagonist in a TV series and so on my dream and my heart was torn There is no fantasy like a horse with a horn If the supernatural is a real thing I wish I had wings And then I would fly To the heaven while I am still alive Without waiting to die

I need the supernatural To make everything a good world to see To make the whole world new to me It would be nice if the miracle came with Hagrid And I could wiggle the wand like Harry But then I realized This is real life The supernatural, that’s impossible Cause I’m just a simple man without superpowers No matter how dreamy I am I have to wake up someday That’s the matter - Mr. Boonrak Boonrit -

Hmm...

A normal day for class Just woke up slowly Seems to be broken apart, But I stood up finally

Nothing mattered at all I gave up if he was fine Then turned back to the door Before being late for class time

Upper bed, my mate’s bed He slept neat and tight “Won’t you wake?” I said Only “hmm…” he replied

It faced me, and I was shocked Sent all shivers down my spine For God’s sake, I won’t mock It was him, the mate of mine

Didn’t mean to interrupt So let him be, I admit I showered, dressed up all packed up, and finished

I asked him, “why are you here?”

“Sorry, but last night was great” I was confused “if you are here…”

“Who’s lying on your bed?”

How strange, he still lied He had class, didn’t he?

“Wake up!” I reminded And then “hmm…”, he answered me

- Phimukh Dangwilai -

Fiction

Masquerade AUTHOR : THAMMACHAT HOMNAN “Vincent! Eat pretty! You’re gonna smear your mask with the honey lavender!”

The high-note voice of Tiffany Young screamed from the other side of the table.

She quickly grabbed the tissue and wiped the ice-cream from my mask.

“Seriously, I still don’t get why you don’t eat matcha. Like, come on, who doesn’t like matcha?” Wiping off the liquid from my face, the girl kept muttering, saying how disappointed she was about me not eating her favourite ice-cream.

This was Tiffany Young, my classmate and also my best friend. With her red mask, she was the most perfect girl I had ever met. She was the daughter of Mr. Andrew Young, the chairman of Blanc & Eclare, the biggest bakery factory in Yokohama, and therefore in Japan. I had no doubt why her mask had changed so fast and why it had become red. Her father was the chairman of the biggest bakery foundry in the country and of course, she would be his successor.

Masquerade

Tiffany’s habit was to drag me around the town to find a good place to eat and criticize. As a baker-to-be, she had an outstanding talent for baking, cooking, and also tasting. And of course, she was beautiful and rich.

If this were a masquerade ball, Tiffany would be the prettiest lady chosen by the prince charming. Her red mask would sparkle under the crystal chandelier while they waltzed around the hall under the moonlight. And I would be the guy in the ordinary suit, standing in the crowd, watching them from the distance.

But this was not a masquerade ball. This was the world, where everyone was born with a mask. When the babies were born, they received white masks. No one knew how it worked, but once the owners of the mask showed their hidden talent, the mask would change its colour and categorize the person into their specific talent group.

Tiffany, for example, had the red mask of the cooking group. For most people, their mask would change when we turned around 30 years old.

For some it changed when they were teenagers or even younger, but that was quite rare.

However, the world was changing. Masks had started to change their colour faster. Now, most people’s masks changed when they were 18. years old Tiffany had got red. Can you guess what was my color?

Simple. It was still white.

Masquerade

Masquerade

I was almost 19 and my mask was still white. At first, it was fine to stand ordinarily in the crowd. But once the prince finished the dance with his lady, it was time for the nobles to hit the floor. A classical waltz by Strauss was played while the ladies and gentlemen were leaning against each other, holding hands. I wasn’t anymore part of the crowd who stood and watched.

The atmosphere of the classroom started to make me feel breathless. The taste of honey lavender was floating in the wind. It was like being in the ballroom full of nobles and highborns; the classical rhythm, fussed crowd, rich sweet scent, and rainbow masks, all these little details started to cloud my mind.

Tiffany’s voice still echoed in my head, but I couldn’t understand her point anymore. I took off from the classroom. As I opened the stained rooftop dor, the wind hit hard on my face.

“Tom, he was a piper’s son.

He learnt to play when he was young.

The only tune that he could play, Was 'Over the hills and far away' In spite of the uproar of the wind, the tune of his harmonica arrived crystal clear. He paused the song when I found a proper seat and sat down.

“Lost again, huh?” he asked.

“What?”

Masquerade

Masquerade “You are, again, lost in society. You don’t know where to go because of this mind-boggling thing,” he said, pointing at my white mask.

This was Marcus. I had met him a week earlier, when I had come to the roof to get some fresh air. Actually, he almost owned that place for the whole time. I was the new guy there. Marcus was one year younger than me. He was a tall, charming guy, like the prince in the ball. He had the eyes of the deep ocean night. Without a mask on, he looked mysterious, but somehow warm and secure.

I kept silent, so he turned back to continue his Tom-the-piper’sson. As the melody leapt through the breeze, the chaos in my head slowly faded.

“Marcus,” He stopped singing again and placed the harmonica on his lap, waiting for me to continue.

“Which ice-cream flavour do you like?” I asked.

He tapped his chin with his forefinger, and I saw his lips wrinkling. Then he replied, “If I say, I don’t eat ice-cream?” “ Well, then what do you like?”

“What do ‘you’ like?” he retorted, staring at me with his deep-blue eyes.

Masquerade

Masquerade

I couldn’t answer. Actually, I didn’t even know whether I liked icecream or not. I just ate it because Tiffany recommended me to eat it. I looked back into his eyes. Although the sun still shone and the birds hummed, I felt like we were standing under the moonlight flooded by the tranquility of the night sky.

“Marcus, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Why did you take off your mask?”

Marcus chuckled, “And why should I put it on?”

The School bell rang. The lunch break was over. I could hear the students in the playground saying goodbye to each other and running back to their classrooms. The whole school was now covered with silence.

We stared at each other. As Marcus shifted closer to me, I could smell the mint from his body. His warm breath brushed the tip of my nose as he moved his face towards mine.

I blinked. I had no idea what was happening, but I felt somehow weird.

Marcus was grinning at me mischievously. Then I saw something in his palm. It was my white mask.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah, way better.”

Masquerade

Artwork by

M F U

L I T E R A R Y

MChilapar A G A Z I NJunpen E

Editors Fiction

Chutikarn Raksakit Natnicha Tabsanee Witsarut Bumpenpong

Poetry

Chatchanok Chalothonpises Jutikarn Timpradub Orathai Nangam Suebsin Boonsutti

Layout

Titikarn Wongkum

Coordinator

Kitiyabhorn Preechaharn Pasis Putubtim

Speacial Thanks Ignasi Rib Panida Monyanont Teeranuch Anurit Khanisara Sirisit And all the lecturers of the School of Liberal Arts

M F U

L I T E R A R Y

M A G A Z I N E

MFU Literary Magazine Mae Fah Luang University Chiang Rai, Thailand