GRACE CHIA is an author from Singapore who has published a novel, The Wanderlusters, a short story collection, Every Moving Thing That Lives Shall Be Food, three poetry collections, womango, Cordelia and Mother of All Questions, and two non- ction titles. She is the editor of a prose anthology about alternative families, We R Family, and her writing has been anthologized for publications in the US, Australia, Germany, France, Serbia, Hong Kong, Macau and Singapore. She has been awarded writing residencies in Korea and Macau and was the national Writer-in-Residence for NAC-NTU in 2011-2012. A former journalist, she has taught creative writing, judged poetry competitions and is currently editor of educational resources.
She couldn’t see the whole picture. Either the heads would disappear or the feet would be cropped out from the frame. The lens of the camera phone could only fit the group in with parts of their bodies and parts of the ruins. Aisha knew she would have to go down the steps much, much more, so everyone in the group could squeeze into the photo, in order for the Ruins of St. Paul to appear in the backdrop.
He was born on the streets of Chinatown. Well, across the road at Upper Cross Street in People’s Park Complex to be exact. His delivery was performed by a midwife in KK Hospital to be precise; an impressively easy labour that lasted three hours from the start of contraction for a firstborn. Not a ragtag street urchin was Leonard Koh En, though he liked to tell people he was born in Chinatown just to test their reaction.
All I saw was blood when she first appeared before me. Her cheongsam, in a screaming scarlet, collared at the throat and falling all the way to her ankles with a slit rising to the high of her thighs, exposed her lithe, bare legs. When she said Hello, my mouth opened and only soundless dry air came forth.