|illustration claire tam : clairetam.com|
Sunday, 29 November 2015
————————————————————————————————Read English Version: Gollum's Demon
| illustration claire tam : www.clairetam.com|
Gollum will soon be discharged.
Thirteen years had passed slowly. Some days had felt like eternity.
Life is hard, but starting a new life is much harder.
The sun will be up soon. Will Demon survive?
The pounding on the door sends him sitting bolt upright.
“Open! Police check!”
He can’t move or think. All his blood seems to have drained. He’s cold, so cold that he can’t shiver. His stomach is churning, but too weak to throw up.
Three more knocks, ominously gentler.
An indistinct discussion outside, followed by the confused sound of keys clinking…
She stares up at him.
Through a chink in the black paper taped over the windows of the hourly motel, a dim shaft of light lands on her waxy oval face. A thick strand of greasy hair, damp with his sweat, is caught between burgundy lips. Plump yet dry and faintly wrinkled, they look like pig livers after a long day at the butcher’s counter.
Her dark round eyes, vacuous and wide like a Japanese voodoo doll’s, reveal a dazed trepidation.
Mud si ah? Chan Sang? What’s the matter Mr. Chan? Her abstract voice unfreezes him. He raises his hands as if to show nothing’s hidden in his palms.
Shhh. Guai guai. Be good. Be very quiet. Shhh.
He pulls the clammy blanket over her. She doesn’t protest. She never does.
The door swings wide open.
“Police!” A bright light shines on his face. Searing heat penetrates his frozen head, setting off a deafening ring inside.
Startled, he pees the bed. The urine keeps flowing, as if his bladder is infinite. The warmth feels comforting for an instant. The stomach lets go. He convulses violently, and vomits all over himself and the unmoving shape of her tiny body, curled up against him like a foetus.