The air here has reached a
Pollutant Standards Index (PSI) of 155! That’s halfway up the unhealthy range of 101-200.
My eyes are watering as I write this. The smoky air is cloying and there’s a burning sensation in my trachea every time I take a breath. Just take a look at this picture of the Marina Bay Sands. This is NOT a misty morning.
Hundreds of flash fires in Sumatra and this is the aftereffect.
The following is an except for a short story I’ve begun for practice.
Caution: Mature content.
The door to apartment swings inwards and slams against the wall. An overweight and absolutely inebriated man staggers in, leaning on a woman in a red dress behind him for support. He reeks of alcohol, sweat vomit but the woman seems oblivious to the stench. He reaches out to fondle her breast but misses and stumbles onto the sofa. The warm light from the wall lamp briefly illuminates his puffy face.
The man is familiar to me. We have been buddies since primary school. Unlike me he flunked his ‘O’ levels. He himself odd jobs here and there. Whatever he earns he splurged on female companionship. The woman with him is Rosalyn. She grabs his crotch and kisses him with an aggressiveness I have never seen and I think she is actually relishing it.
The music playing in the background is Beethoven’s Sixth or Tenth, I can never remember.
Larry attempts to stand up while unbuckling his belt but Rosalyn elbows him in the chest. She is diminutive and probably weighs a third of him but still, he loses his balance and topples back into the sofa and knocks into a side table. A photo frame drops from it and hits the hard ceramic-tiled floor.
My eye shifts slowly to it as it lies broken with its glass shattered.
Of course the story is not what it seems to be. 🙂
Is this something which you would you like to read more of?