I was dodging the traffic when I nearly bumped into her, or perhaps she just skilfully scooped me up from the throng of visitors preoccupied with avoiding being run over by one of the thousands of motorbikes, scooters, buses, taxis, and cars that are omnipresent on Ho Chi Minh City’s filthy streets.
I met a woman called Li in Bangkok. She was working in a massage parlour opposite the hotel I was staying in. A "proper" massage parlour. “Some people think girl working in a massage parlour is bad,” she told me. “But for me is not just money. Want fix people.”
After 25 years of marriage, at the age of 56, my wife, a keen reader with a new Kindle, discovered Paranormal Romance, a genre of adult fiction focusing on the sexual Dominance of the vampire and the submission of his victim. Think Twilight with an added layer of kinky sex.
I’m in Bukit Bintang. It’s lively. Busy. Singers, buskers, bands, dancers, music from cafes, restaurants, shops all booming out. The traffic is thick with cars, taxis, motorbikes, scooters and boy racers revving like it’s Tokyo Drift.
I’d seen her before. She’d smiled at me before. She looked shy. She was beautiful. I could see it in her eyes, her grace, the way she tucked her long, dark, shiny hair behind her ears into a ponytail. Golden earrings glinted from her lobes. Set in her clear-skinned face, her dark bright eyes peered from below her dark slender eyebrows, looking up at me with a subservience I found irresistible.
The bud burst when I saw you in Schio