Saturday, September 6, 2025

Short Story: Sophia's Confetti

People around us have a way of placing us in a mold. While it is advisable to be open to what others have to share based on their knowledge and experience, you could gently decline what does not suit you (in your mind) with, "No, thank you." But, where the advice is proven to be sound, do eat humble pie and benefit from it.

The following short story which is generated using ChatGPT is for your refreshing.


Sophia Tan had just turned twenty-nine, and her aunties had declared it the “last call” at every family dinner.

“Ah girl, if you don’t marry soon, later all the good ones taken!” her Aunt Cecilia said, stabbing her chopsticks into the roast duck as if it were her last chance at happiness.

Sophia smiled politely, but inside she was crumbling like an underbaked pineapple tart. Every wedding invitation that arrived in her mailbox felt less like an invitation and more like a cosmic reminder: You’re running late, my dear.

Her best friend, Marcus, a cheerful lawyer with a fondness for kaya toast, tried to cheer her up one Saturday morning at a kopitiam.

“Marriage isn’t the finish line, Soph,” he said between sips of kopi. “It’s more like signing up for a marathon where you’ll be sweaty and cranky half the time—but you choose to keep running because you love who’s running beside you.”

“Wow,” Sophia said, laughing. “So romantic. You make marriage sound like National Service.”

Still, the thought stayed with her. That evening, as she walked home, the sky was blushing with sunset and little tufts of white clouds drifted above like slow-moving confetti. She stopped, tilted her head back, and for the first time in a long while, she felt… lighter.

I’m already whole, she realized. Not a half waiting for another half, not a puzzle piece searching for a missing corner. She had a career she loved, friends who made her laugh until her stomach hurt, and the ability to dance terribly in her own living room without apology. Marriage, she understood, would never be the thing that completed her.

A week later, at yet another wedding dinner, Sophia sat beside a distant cousin who spoke proudly about his wife’s beauty and his new car, as though marriage were a glittering trophy case. She smiled politely but thought: This is not what I want. Beauty fades, money comes and goes. Love that endures is about giving, forgiving, and choosing someone again and again—even on days you’d rather throw them out with the laundry.

When the bride and groom raised their glasses, Sophia clapped wholeheartedly—not out of envy this time, but with hope. Hope that when she did marry, it would not be because of pressure, age, or fleeting charms. It would be because she had found someone she wanted to sacrifice for, laugh with, and walk beside on stormy days and sunny ones alike.

Later that night, Marcus texted her: So, do you still think you’re running late?

Sophia smiled at her phone. Nope, she typed back. Turns out I’ve been dancing to my own rhythm all along. The right partner won’t rush me—they’ll join the dance.

Outside her window, the moon shone bright, and for once, Sophia felt no fear of missing out. She was already living fully—and love, when it came, would only be an encore, not the opening act.


Thank you for reading Daily Refreshing.

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