The one time a female friend invited my friend G and I to dinner.
We arrived on time and she apologized that dinner was going to be very very late as she had returned home late and just started cooking.
We said no problem and grabbed a beer.
But the wait was very long and I got bored.
So this happened.  A short story.
The Spine
Cue music
She was dressed in a grey camisole top flattering what seemed to be the supple body of a domestic goddess.
Her countenance was serious, brow furrowed, her eyes focused. Stirring and stirring what seemed to be an enormous cast iron pot. That strange inhuman like rhythmic tantric sway.
You want to look away cos itโ€™s spooky but your eyes wonโ€™t let you.
Suddenly she rips off …….
……….. the pot cover.
She seemed angry ๐Ÿ˜ก cursing at the pot with cobranic venom like a woman scorned.
G and I quietly went to the fridge, took a coke each and went to sit quietly in a corner.
Bewildered. Scared. And Scarred.
From the kitchen she spewed out even more vulgarities that would make a hardened Ah Beng construction worker blush.
“Wah Lao Eh, see pei chorโ€ is what he will say.
What confounded drama is this? All G and I want to do on a Friday night is eat something simple and live life with no drama. No wonder weโ€™re fucked up and single and damaged. Do all women behave this way?
I note with some consternation that G has curled into a fetal position, eyes glassy and rocking ever so slightly. When did he regress?
In she walked and we recoiled involuntarily. She dumps the huge pot on the table and screeched โ€œEat! Iโ€™m going to change !โ€
Change ? Into what ?
A witch ? A big fat hairy bat ?
Time passed by. I noticed G is faring slightly better.
He has uncurled himself and was now quietly nibbling on the baby carrots like a fluffy bunny.
But still that whimpering and glassy stare.
We smelt her even before we saw her. That gamey sour rancid odious odor of yesterdayโ€™s decay and death.
Like a dead skunk you can smell driving in an old car with no air conditioning.
It was like that Woman in Black (the west end horror play)  sequence playing in west end where the lights go down to pitch black and when it slowly came on again, the woman in black was standing among the audience.
Cue to scream like a high pitched little kawaii girl. Minus the head tilting and kawaii hand sign.
She was swathed in oily black funeral parlor linen like a ninja.
Layers and layers.
Yet try as she might, she couldnโ€™t hide the voluptuous body that was ripe and taunting with hidden illegal pleasures.
How is it permeating fear is not suppressing my raging libido ?
Dude – you need help ๐Ÿ™„.
Cue wet umbrella – old aunty underpants- rancid cucumber – suppressants.
Suddenly, she ripped it all off like an onion !
What manner of voodoo is this ??
She was now in a lemon yellow spring meadow polka dotted kawaii chiffon lace hemmed A line Japanese sun dress (who says I donโ€™t understand fashion) revealing curves that are illegal in 17 states.
Is this what they call gastronomic performance art ?
I like.
G eeked. Yes not squeaked, eeked. A weak tremor-like squeak is an eek.
I made eye contact with him that said โ€œDonโ€™t worry buddy this will be over soon. This is what it means when a woman casually says she wants to cook for us – there will always be wailing and gnashing of teeth .โ€
But truth be told, we may be well dead before the break of dawn.
Think happy thoughts – exit light enter night and donโ€™t let the bed bugs bite. In your closet, in your nightmares, in your little head.
We ate in silence.
The oxtail was surprisingly good.
Or at least I hoped it was oxtail.
It looked eerily similar to a human spine which by all accounts, canโ€™t be much bigger than this although Iโ€™ve never seen an actual one.
People get slipped discs all the time. What do they do with it once removed (unless it can be aligned )? Perhaps this moist part I am gnawing on could be the L4 ?
Worcestershire sauce ? Garlic, the sharp rawness of celery? A little clove, the honeyed nectar of sweet sauteed onions and carrots – I was getting all this and it was luring me in.
I was rudely jolted from oblivion.
Wait – didnโ€™t she tell us a few weeks ago that she had a slipped disc ?! The L4 – is she feeding us her own Spine?? Do we have her back ??
I opened my eyes and she was definitely slouching – her posture was unattractive, all wrong and abnormal. Something (L4?) was missing.
It was going to be a long night before the sun arises. And we were not even past the 3 am witching hour when evil is at its strongest.
I couldnโ€™t help noticing that the grey pallor on her face was spreading and lesions were forming.
Her eyes started to flutter and were rolling back to show the whites. Her head was lolling.
I didnโ€™t have to look down to know she is levitating. I know sheโ€™s not that tall.
She was reeking of evil.
She smiled at me.
I eeked too.
But felt a stirring. A strong one.
Dude – What the hell is wrong with you โ˜น๏ธ๐Ÿ˜– ๐Ÿคฎ??
THE END (for me)


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