Author: Remittance Girl

  • Better Left Unsaid

    He has that look, you know, that perfect everything-in-the-right place look: the suit, the steel-rimmed glasses, the conservative tie, the neatly trimmed mustache, the gray, receding hairline and the slight paunch. Sitting next to him at the dentist’s office, unable to concentrate on the magazine in my lap which does nothing to distract me from…

  • Performance

    If you’ve read my blog for a while, you will know that I am unnaturally addicted to my online writer’s group. Anyway, we’re having something of a game. A type of ‘tag’. Basically, one writer writes a first chapter, and the next writer has to follow it up. I was number two in the slot,…

  • The Ship’s Figurehead

    The call came in at eleven p.m. on a Saturday night, when all hell was breaking loose uptown. A full moon in August always brings out the lunatics, but this call came from pier 18, down at the docks. Detective Shirts and I arrived on the scene just after midnight. The tramp steamer, the SS…

  • Visitors From Japan

    Sam adjusted the lapels of her fake kimono in front of the mirror in the staff room. It wasn’t really a kimono. For a start, it barely covered her ass, but Mr. Fujimori, the owner of the Ichibankan sushi bar, insisted on the uniform. He said it made the Japanese businessmen who frequented the restaurant…

  • Naga

    When he arrived, the hill station was deserted. Sweat and disappointment seeped from his pores and ran in annoying rivulets down his spine. It had taken him nearly two full days of traveling from Phnom Penh to reach Bokor and he’d undertaken the journey hoping to finally come face to face with his old herpetology…

  • Motorcycle Hug

    At first she thought that it was just a hormone surge. She told herself to ignore the urges; they would go away. But they didn’t. Later she reasoned that it was being on a bike–all that vibration between the legs–and it would have been a good, rational explanation had it happened every time she got…

  • And The Meek Shall Inherit

    She woke to a brain-scrambling headache. Needles of pain tore through the wet mass of her grey matter like cheese wire through butter. Her hands clawed for covers, intent on pulling them over her head in a desperate attempt to keep the light from firing more projectiles through her retinas. Finding no covers to pull,…

  • Karaoke Night (Hers)

    The sticky carpet on the narrow stairs sucks at the soles of my sandals as I climb up to the third floor. They know me here; they know what I want. Room number six with the matte black walls and the zebra upholstery on the sofas. The first time I went to the Lucky Club…

  • Karaoke Night (His)

    He climbed the stairs, past the dozing landlady and let himself into the room. Hot and airless, having been shut against the ravages of the rainy season, it smelled of secrets growing in dark corners. He switched on the ceiling fan and left his sandals at the door. Shedding first his damp shirt, then his…

  • Inside The Pride

    I admit it, I wanted her to pay attention to me, like she did with her *boys*. Someone had actually dubbed them the “Pride of Professor Gordon.” Six guys in all – young lions in the *pride*. Anyone from the zoology department might have pointed out that a pride usually consisted of a group of…