Five minutes. That’s all it took for this tragedy to transpire. She thought (as she felt an incisor dislodge in her mouth): Yes, I remember that night — Long night, short skirt. She felt seductive that night, and bit her lips. Smiling, she collected his lips with her tongue on the dance floor. They danced a dance, a mating dance ...

The memories from the past are hazy, but there’s always one particular memory that sends a chill down my spine; both our spines: Alan’s and mine. But we are adults now, and we laugh it off, that is if we ever talk about it, which has been just twice during the last 30 odd years. Papa was happily having his ...

He whispered her name up the stairs. And up it crawled slowly, and divulged an intent into her ear as she lay stark naked wrapped in satiny duvet folds. He looked into her shocked eyes and said — I don’t forget. Ever. But perhaps what’s worse still is that I don’t forgive. Why you may ask? Forgiveness takes too much ...

August came and went, but I’ll always remember August, because of what you said — Give me a kiss and I’ll give you a smile. Tell me something sweet, and I’ll buy you something nice. You cover your face like the moon behind a shimmer of clouds. Tell me you love me, and I’ll see you come around. Darling, didn’t ...

Talisman used to wonder this with a purr and a tail wag, but his Mama used to raise her paw, and twitch her whiskers in annoyance. Or was it a whiff of fear? The answer was apparent this Tuesday morning. As the wife laid his bowl of warm milk beside him; the husband slurped his porridge, and Mama’s mouth formed ...

A sweet was offered with a trusting hand, and a lick was given with affection. These were the beginnings of a transaction — an insidious one all wrapped up with kindness. Mama used to say that it’s impossible to respect yourself until you grow teeth. Chew those bones and make them sharp, she said, they’ll help you out one day. ...

I like company. So if I go down… She whispered this as she and her tongue travelled down… Down past his lips towards the deep well that sits in the shadows at the pit of his neck… Down after taking a minor pit stop to count the pulses that coursed through his jutting carotid artery, which stood out thick like ...

Life was just there, smiling in a corner, whispering things to Death that no one will hear. They shook hands, and set a plan in motion that left the protagonists — Maurice (he died) and Marlene (she cried) — in different states of despair. Sugar and spice, Marlene spoke nice, but when Maurice scrunched her petticoats with one hairy fist, ...

I’m just trying to make you remember how it felt when I was 10, and you were 30. From the corner of my eye, I spotted two things: 1. The first tear began, and coursed down his wrinkled cheek, and 2. a bubble of blood spurted when knife met mottled skin. Cry, I cajoled, because that’s what I did when I was 10 and you were 30.

Where do you think our conversations go? You know, the ones we have over wine and whiskey. I think the adjectives like to disappear into the sky, and are snuffed out like a star past its prime. The verbs, however, stay between us. Let’s kiss now (although you might not like the plans my hands have for you tonight).

You’re alone at home. You wake up. You boot up your Mac. You take a sip of the hot blackness in your mug. You stare at the screen. You see shadows, slight movements from the corner of your eye. You notice the flickering of the light, and the final plunge into a Lamy-kinda, inky, black darkness. The screen of your ...

The slow strain of piano chords started to play, and he felt the tears well up from within his eyes. They sure did well up, and he finally allowed them to part through his eyelids and trickle down to his burning chest. Not tonight as well this thought whispered through the halls of his mind as he considered what needed ...

I just closed my eyes and kept telling Sally — No. It went on like a broken record: me saying No. But damn, this girl sure is persistent. She doesn’t know that there’s a war going on. Bombs away!! She doesn’t know that food is in short supply. Or maybe she does. It hurts when she licks what’s left of ...

Vikas walked towards the portal and placed his thumbprint. His brain started a thought which started with ‘Dammit, I really…’ and completed it as he appeared at the offices of Quantum Manufacturing — ‘feel old’. He shuffled to his workstation, and as he was just about to sit down his supervisor appeared and beckoned him with a smile. The gist ...

A second chance is a bit like a divorce: it’s an opportunity to hope for a happily ever after again. No second chance for these folks, though, Ian thought, before he walked down the winding staircase and picked up a flute of Chandon and sipped it thoughtfully. He’d been planning this day for years. So many years. From the day ...

Daphne cuddled up next to Mummy, and pleaded with her eyes for one more story. And Mummy sighed and with silent acquiescence opened up the tablet so that they were both blanketed ever so softly with the ambient glow of the screen. But before Mummy could open her mouth and recite line after line of some fantastical journey, Daphne whimpered. ...

The residents of the Home Care Nursing Home watched as Claudine walk up and down the tea room. She seemed to sniff the aroma of de-caffeinated coffee (caffeine leads to a jolt in blood pressure, and for the old timers here that could mean cardiac arrest in a sip) and then appeared to change her mind. She seemed drawn towards ...

Not too long ago, Dad started growing a beard. It was only later did I realize that he used it to hide a smirk that reeked of cruelty. I used to glimpse in wonderment at the upward curves of his lips behind that beard as he lay a path of blue abuse across my face with his leathery hand. Mum ...

They are plotting against us, Mum used to say. One time she called the police, and I heard through the keyhole; my Dad explained that she’s suffering from auditory hallucinations. Schizophrenia, everyone whispered. Throughout the years, Mum used to stand near the bathroom window, grit her teeth, laugh, cringe, cry, and threaten. Dad of course always shielded me and said ...

I couldn’t sleep. So here I am drinking Nescafe and munching chocolate chip cookies and sorting out my work agenda for tomorrow. But I probably won’t go to work since Mum has fever clocking in at 102. Warren day before mentioned that I’ve got fat. And this led me to start thinking about my set of values. The truth is ...