12 13 14 15 16 17
Today was her birthday.
She stared at the calendar, biting her lip tentatively.
Would he come home?
She shook her head furiously.
NONONONONONONONONONONONONO.
She had reminded herself countless times to forget about him.
But she still made chicken rice every single night
(sometimes unconsciously).
The whole world was slowly spinning.
She staggered to her chair, and sat there, head in her hands.
When she finally felt fine, she lifted her head, and peered through the curtain of dark locks in the direction of the kitchen window.
It was raining.
She ran to her room, put on her red dress (theonehehadlikedsomuch), and stepped out onto the street.
Alone, in the darkness (save a stray street lamp), she raised her head, arms wide open.
Her red lips parted, tasting the sweet rain.
And let her worries wash away.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
FOURTEEN.
She stayed up till 3, watching The Ring.
She remembers how it was the first film that they had watched together.
She remembers how she had clung on to him, like a
babykoala clinging on to its
m o t h e r
Frightened to Death.
He had been so sweet, to let her bury her head in his chest.
Now he was more Burn(ing taste of Demon's Drink) than sweet.
But he still didn't come back.
There goes another plate of chicken rice.
She remembers how it was the first film that they had watched together.
She remembers how she had clung on to him, like a
babykoala clinging on to its
m o t h e r
Frightened to Death.
He had been so sweet, to let her bury her head in his chest.
Now he was more Burn(ing taste of Demon's Drink) than sweet.
But he still didn't come back.
There goes another plate of chicken rice.
THIRTEEN.
Not surprisingly, his business had failed.
That was when Depression hit:
Everything he had worked so hard for, putting in his best effort, had gone down the drain.
And so he succumbed to the Demon's Drink(s?).
Tiger Beer, Carlsberg, Heineken, Guiness.
It had been going on for more than a year already.
She was on the brink of breaking down.
The pressure was too much- loan sharks were still after her (him), the bills were steadily mounting, and she was still deprived of Love from the man she Loved.
What am I going to do?
That was when Depression hit:
Everything he had worked so hard for, putting in his best effort, had gone down the drain.
And so he succumbed to the Demon's Drink(s?).
Tiger Beer, Carlsberg, Heineken, Guiness.
It had been going on for more than a year already.
She was on the brink of breaking down.
The pressure was too much- loan sharks were still after her (him), the bills were steadily mounting, and she was still deprived of Love from the man she Loved.
What am I going to do?
Saturday, October 28, 2006
TWELVE.
She was a sufferer of Unrequited Love.
Why did she even Love him so?
Believe me, if she had it her way, she wouldn't even put a foot into the world of Love, where flowers and chocolates were given and received everyday, where couples would, hand in hand, stroll along the beach, or perhaps sit on a balcony, gazing at the full moon with the faint sound of violins in the background.
Where no one was spared the Hurt of losing someone.
He hardly comes back nowadays.
She waits for him every night, watching his favourite Hainanese chicken rice (she made it herself) turn cold as the night.
Love.
Sucky, ain't it?
Why did she even Love him so?
Believe me, if she had it her way, she wouldn't even put a foot into the world of Love, where flowers and chocolates were given and received everyday, where couples would, hand in hand, stroll along the beach, or perhaps sit on a balcony, gazing at the full moon with the faint sound of violins in the background.
Where no one was spared the Hurt of losing someone.
He hardly comes back nowadays.
She waits for him every night, watching his favourite Hainanese chicken rice (she made it herself) turn cold as the night.
Love.
Sucky, ain't it?
Thursday, October 19, 2006
ELEVEN.
He was on the verge of starting his own, albeit small, business.
That's great! she cried, stretching out her arms to hug him.
But there's just one thing.
She stops.
What?
I need a capital.
Oh. She withdraws her arms.
He grabs her and starts one of their regular romps, which often end up
in the bed.
("Those two, ah, so young but still have, what ah, oh yah, pre-marital or something sex, later they have a child, then how?" she heard a neighbour of his say to the other housewives.)
He pulls away.
Don't stop.
Then I need you to help me.
Alright. But how?
I need some money.
Is that all? she laughed. OK, I'll go to the bank tomorrow and withdraw some money for you.
He smiled.
At first, she found that smile genuine, and thought it belonged to the man whom she would be spending the rest of her life with.
But it belonged to a fiendish fox, who had just spotted a fat rabbit to devour.
She was that rabbit.
That's great! she cried, stretching out her arms to hug him.
But there's just one thing.
She stops.
What?
I need a capital.
Oh. She withdraws her arms.
He grabs her and starts one of their regular romps, which often end up
in the bed.
("Those two, ah, so young but still have, what ah, oh yah, pre-marital or something sex, later they have a child, then how?" she heard a neighbour of his say to the other housewives.)
He pulls away.
Don't stop.
Then I need you to help me.
Alright. But how?
I need some money.
Is that all? she laughed. OK, I'll go to the bank tomorrow and withdraw some money for you.
He smiled.
At first, she found that smile genuine, and thought it belonged to the man whom she would be spending the rest of her life with.
But it belonged to a fiendish fox, who had just spotted a fat rabbit to devour.
She was that rabbit.
Monday, October 16, 2006
TEN.
She finishes work.
Instead of going back to a loving husband (or Ah Beng boyfriend, like her colleagues), she returns to an empty flat, unpaid bills and her growing despair.
(No, wait.
She carries the last one with her everywhere she goes.
Hidden in her purple beaded handbag,
squished into its smallest size possible,
Despair is prevented from growing by stuffing the collected dollar bills from the old men into her bag, and zipping it up quickly.
But it's still there.
)
Instead of going back to a loving husband (or Ah Beng boyfriend, like her colleagues), she returns to an empty flat, unpaid bills and her growing despair.
(No, wait.
She carries the last one with her everywhere she goes.
Hidden in her purple beaded handbag,
squished into its smallest size possible,
Despair is prevented from growing by stuffing the collected dollar bills from the old men into her bag, and zipping it up quickly.
But it's still there.
)
NINE.
She hates the atmosphere of the bar.
In fact, she just hates it, period.
Dirty old men always try to look down her front, and flirt outrageously with the waitresses. Often, after they finish their shifts, they are brought to the nearby Hotel 81 by the old men.
Sickening, she thinks as she sees a gnarled old hand snaking into the pocket of his mistress's too-tight Miss Sixty denim shorts (bought by him, no doubt).
A cloud of smoke hangs around the pub (like the blasted Haze from stupid Indonesia) due to the monstrous amount of cigarettes smoked every night.
She always packs a filter mask in her beaded handbag, just in case.
The stench of alcohol, vomit and toilets is unbearable.
What on earth are the cleaners doing?
Smoking, as a matter of fact.
Like their health isn't deteriorating fast enough.
But she tolerates, telling herself the same thing over and over again:
It's for the money. It's for the money.
In fact, she just hates it, period.
Dirty old men always try to look down her front, and flirt outrageously with the waitresses. Often, after they finish their shifts, they are brought to the nearby Hotel 81 by the old men.
Sickening, she thinks as she sees a gnarled old hand snaking into the pocket of his mistress's too-tight Miss Sixty denim shorts (bought by him, no doubt).
A cloud of smoke hangs around the pub (like the blasted Haze from stupid Indonesia) due to the monstrous amount of cigarettes smoked every night.
She always packs a filter mask in her beaded handbag, just in case.
The stench of alcohol, vomit and toilets is unbearable.
What on earth are the cleaners doing?
Smoking, as a matter of fact.
Like their health isn't deteriorating fast enough.
But she tolerates, telling herself the same thing over and over again:
It's for the money. It's for the money.
EIGHT.
She was skilled at her work, no Doubt about that.
If you ordered a rum with coke ("Easy on the rocks."), you felt (her) Anger (at him) fizzing, merging with the tiny bubbles of carbon dioxide.
She could never be angry at him for long.
She loved him too much.
If a beer was ordered, you felt the way the Demon's Drink overpowered your
mind,
body,
Soul.
And that was the way her love for him overpowered her, too.
If you ever asked for one of her margaritas, you'd know how tempting they were.
And that was how she felt (Tempted) on that fateful night, when all of her wildest dreams were placed in a plam.
His palm.
Come home with me.
It was her Forbidden Fruit.
She knew it would be wrong to accept it.
The consequences, Nina, the consequences!
Come home with me, he whispered (oh, how it tickled her ears!) once again, holding out his hand.
She looked at his palm. It looked so warm, so inviting, but she knew not to succumb to the Temptation.
And then she looked into his eyes.
She saw something in them. Something sparkled in those dark, Belgian chocolate-like eyes.
Was it Love?
It must be! It MUST!
Come home with me, Nina!
And in a split second, she felt herself falling into those peat-bog eyes, letting him caress her, becoming One with him.
She, like Eve, had accepted and taken a bite out of her Fruit.
It is worth it she thought to herself as she lay on the stained (yet spotless) white sheets.
She felt him roll over and caress her once again, feeling his warm skin press again hers.
It is.
If you ordered a rum with coke ("Easy on the rocks."), you felt (her) Anger (at him) fizzing, merging with the tiny bubbles of carbon dioxide.
She could never be angry at him for long.
She loved him too much.
If a beer was ordered, you felt the way the Demon's Drink overpowered your
mind,
body,
Soul.
And that was the way her love for him overpowered her, too.
If you ever asked for one of her margaritas, you'd know how tempting they were.
And that was how she felt (Tempted) on that fateful night, when all of her wildest dreams were placed in a plam.
His palm.
Come home with me.
It was her Forbidden Fruit.
She knew it would be wrong to accept it.
The consequences, Nina, the consequences!
Come home with me, he whispered (oh, how it tickled her ears!) once again, holding out his hand.
She looked at his palm. It looked so warm, so inviting, but she knew not to succumb to the Temptation.
And then she looked into his eyes.
She saw something in them. Something sparkled in those dark, Belgian chocolate-like eyes.
Was it Love?
It must be! It MUST!
Come home with me, Nina!
And in a split second, she felt herself falling into those peat-bog eyes, letting him caress her, becoming One with him.
She, like Eve, had accepted and taken a bite out of her Fruit.
It is worth it she thought to herself as she lay on the stained (yet spotless) white sheets.
She felt him roll over and caress her once again, feeling his warm skin press again hers.
It is.
SEVEN.
They met in (surprise, surprise) the bar where she works.
He was young.
Charming.
Dashing.
Everything she had dreamed of in a man and so much more.
(But then the Demon's Drink consumed him.
Ironic, isn't it?)
He was young.
Charming.
Dashing.
Everything she had dreamed of in a man and so much more.
(But then the Demon's Drink consumed him.
Ironic, isn't it?)
FIVE.
She sits at the dining table (a plastic folding one) on a chair (with the words "Yeo Beng Pte. Ltd." printed across it in red, faded ink).
She stares at the bills for rentwaterelectricity.
She turns her head and gazes at the vulgarities and threats sprayed across the wall outside her (their) flat by loan-sharks.
Dismay.
And all she can think about is Money.
She stares at the bills for rentwaterelectricity.
She turns her head and gazes at the vulgarities and threats sprayed across the wall outside her (their) flat by loan-sharks.
Dismay.
And all she can think about is Money.
FOUR.
She's a struggling artist and a bartender at a pub in Geylang.
He's a drunkard and a gambler.
What in the world do they have in common?
He's a drunkard and a gambler.
What in the world do they have in common?
THREE.
It breaks her heart to see him in such a state.
Sunk into Oblivion.
Alcohol.
It's a scary thing.
Sunk into Oblivion.
Alcohol.
It's a scary thing.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
TWO.
When he does come home, he's usually drunk.
Raving at "Genevieve" ("How could you do this to me, after all I've done for you!") and several other unknown girls.
(He was always a Player.)
Raving at "Genevieve" ("How could you do this to me, after all I've done for you!") and several other unknown girls.
(He was always a Player.)
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