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.