A series of arson were keeping the fire station on high alert.


A nearby tree was engulfed in flames.

No second thoughts. She rushed out of the fire station with the extinguisher, ignoring the surprise gasp in the fire station. Just a small fire, she could handle it.

Pull pin, point hose and squeeze the lever.

Wait, there was no blazing heat.

She thought the new soap might clean him better.


He slapped her so hard that her left ear buzzed sharply. But she didn’t try to run. Fueled by her stupidity, he grabbed her thin neck. He squeezed it hard enough to make her scratch his hands. He let go.

She fell to her side, coughing hard, gulping down air like a fish out of water. The soap he had thrown away was on the floor by the door.

Two bulls were ready to kill each other.


Two buffaloes on a wet paddy field. Nostrils flared with hot breaths. Mouths wide showing off gritted teeth. Hot and sweaty, sizing up the other. But patience ran out and both bulls charged on.

Spectators grew as sickles and hoes were put aside. They could use the rest. Raging bulls didn’t happen everyday. Did you bring tea? Cool tea for this hot morning? Don’t mind if I do. Oh, Penghulu, would you like some?

His hands were stained with his mother’s blood.


“He didn’t touch her.”

His hands held out in defense. He couldn’t let the police apprehend the young man.

“Look, Doc, the mother’s bleedin’ in A & E now and you’re sayin' he didn’t do it?” barked the Sergeant as she pushed her men aside.

This time she might be climbing too high for her own good.


She could make the jump. She was only on the twentieth floor. The next building were only a few meters away.

When she was little, her father loved throwing her up high. She believed wings would sprout from her shoulders if she kept reaching for the sky, scrambling up monkey bars, climbing up trees, crawling up scaffolding at construction sites until that they needed that bright orange airbag from the Civil Defence.