Dinner - By Tonia, Sou Ian Tong

Written By: Tonia, Sou Ian Tong

Category: Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Tonia, Sou Ian Tong presents "Dinner," a compelling short story submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This story takes us into the intimate confines of a lonely apartment, where the protagonist grapples with solitude and a poignant nostalgia for a bygone family life. Through vivid imagery and emotional depth, the narrative explores the universal themes of longing and the bittersweet nature of memory.

About the Work

"Dinner" paints a vivid picture of loneliness juxtaposed with memories of familial warmth. The story’s mood is reflective and introspective, capturing the protagonist's internal struggle against a backdrop of mundane reality. Tonia's literary style is evocative, using stark contrasts between past and present to underscore the emotional weight of the narrative. The imagery of a cluttered apartment and the haunting glow of a flycatcher powerfully illustrate the protagonist’s isolation and yearning for connection.

Dinner

Original Submission by Tonia, Sou Ian Tong

DINNER

By Tonia Sou

The harsh fluorescent light flickered to life as I pushed the switch into the wall, casting a pale sickly glow across my cramped apartment. I tossed my latest report onto the kitchen counter, its pristine pages a stark contrast to the mess around it. As I loosened my tie, the thought came across me how the fabric increasingly began to feel like a noose, a constant reminder of the suffocating loneliness that had come to define my life.

I stared at the cracked paint on the walls, barely clinging on; the chipped corners of the rusted old table; the sink filled with dishes, begging to be freed of their filth. The buzzing of the counter light pierced the silence, a steady drone that seemed to mirror the restless hum of my thoughts despite my tiredness. I ought to replace that light I thought, adding it to the mental list of tasks I'd probably never get around to.

With practiced movements born of weariness, I retrieved a container of cold, congealed leftovers from the fridge— the same cold, rubbery dish I’d eaten three nights in a row. The microwave hummed, as if against its will, to life as I slumped down onto the worn out sofa, feeling it sag with discomfort beneath my weight. A sigh unconsciously escaped me, unbidden, the weight of it lingering in the stale air.

DING.

The microwave's shrill alarm jolted me from my thoughts. I dragged my weary legs back to the kitchen and sat down at the small dinner table. A fly buzzed lazily around my head. I swatted it away irritably without looking at it. My hand reached for the remote buried beneath a pile of unopened mail and takeout menus. The television blinked on, bathing the room with an artificial luminesce. I flipped through a parade of channels mindlessly, barely registering the kaleidoscope of images, until something caught my eye.

A family, faces alight with joy, laughter spilling from their lips as easily as breath, gathered around a dinner table. The mother, with eyes twinkling with affection, placed steaming dishes before her eager children— chicken, spaghetti, salads, pizza. The father joined them, planting a kiss on her cheek as he sat down. Their happiness was evident. Enjoy family fun with our special, get 20% off on our Family Pizza Package, perfect for sharing delici—

I switched off the TV, plunging the room back into a suffocating silence. I stared at the plate. It was nothing more than a poor facsimile of a home-cooked meal.

"You're never here, Liam!" I hadn’t answered her right away. Katherine was furious. Her face was flushed, her beautiful eyes pierced through me like knives in the middle of our modest house back home. It was small, but it was ours, filled with sounds of life— until that moment. "The children barely know their father anymore!"

I stood frozen in the doorway, briefcase in hand. I feared if I had moved even an inch I would have given in. Mei Ling, our eldest, peeked around the corner, her eyes wide with worry. In the corner of my eye I can see Little Jian, barely five, clung to his sister's leg, lower lip trembling.

"I'm doing this for us," I retorted, my own frustration boiling over. The words spilling out before I could stop them. "For a better future, for opportunities—"

"We don't need opportunities!" Katherine interrupted, her voice cracking yet sharp. Her hands resting on the back of our dining room chair, gripping it so tight I could see her knuckles turning white. "We need you. Here. With us."

The memory shifted, softening at the edges like an old photograph. I saw our home as it truly was – not the battlefield of that terrible fight, but the warm, loving sanctuary it had always been. The walls, painted a soft yellow at Katherine's insistence, seemed to glow with an inner light in the afternoon. The light would filter

through the thin curtains, casting a warm hue over everything. Family photos lined the walls, each one we captured, an irreplaceable piece of frozen time. Mei Ling's first day of school, her messy pigtails and gap toothed grin beaming at the camera. Jian, much younger then, his chubby hands wrapped around a toy train, his innocent face a picture of concentration.

The scent of Katherine’s cooking wafting from the kitchen— fragrant and rich. Curries, rice, spices simmering on the stoves, the sweet scent of pandan leaves that lingered even long after dinner. The sounds of pots clattering, water boiling, meat sizzling in the pan were always the music of home. Our table, always a

little sticky from little hands, was where we gathered, no matter what happened that day. It was the heart of our home. It was where we shared more than just meals— it was where we shared ourselves. In the corner stood the old upright piano, its keys worn. Katherine's fingers would dance across the keys as we sang off-keyed symphonies of love with unbridled enthusiasm. Mei Ling would twirl in her favorite dress, the fabric swirling around her like petals, spinning until she would grow dizzy. Jian would bounce around the living room, giggling with delight.

ZAP!

The fly’s buzzing stopped. I looked up. His buzzing stuttered, having a sharp crackle, louder than it should’ve been, filled the room. There, against the dull backdrop of the kitchen, hung the electric flycatcher —a cheap plastic device, its body a cold, sterile white. Thin metallic grids formed a cage around the core, which pulsed with a faint, eerie purple light. The purple hummed softly, casting strange shadows on the walls, flickering like the dying embers of a forgotten fire.

He twitched, his tiny body trapped in the synthetic mesh. He struggled for a moment, translucent wings beating frantically.

His struggle was almost over now—its movements reduced to the occasional twitch, its wings barely trembling, its body hanging suspended in the web of wires.

One final ZAP. The fly’s legs curled inward, its wings drooped, and it was still.

A line of smoke rose from its tiny form, curling around the still air.

The purple glow of the flycatcher dimmed once more, flickering occasionally, as if waiting for the next unsuspecting victim, casting shadows that seemed to grow longer with each passing second.

But all I heard was silence. Broken only by the occasional hum of traffic from the street below and the faint buzzing of that damned flickering light.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious event that celebrates the art of storytelling in its many forms. This platform invites writers from around the world to share their unique voices and stories, fostering a global community of creatives. Participants engage in a vibrant exchange of ideas, with submissions that span diverse themes and genres, showcasing the richness of human experience.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Tonia, Sou Ian Tong for sharing "Dinner" with us in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Through your evocative storytelling, you have invited readers into a world of introspection and nostalgia. We appreciate your contribution and look forward to seeing more of your work in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.