Customer Comes First

A bouquet is not too late …..

Book A

Chapter 1

She comes in every day. 

It is not that I am observant, nor was it the perfume that she wears. I know it whenever she is in the boutique. This is even before she appears right in front me.

There is something about her that makes me notice her. Was it the fact that she wore expensive jewellery? Or was it her demure smile? I must say, she is conspicuous. And I am still not sure about why I would like to observe her. The plain answer is that she is simply she. Even before she walks in, I already know that she is coming in. She is punctual and regular, like having an alarm clock set inside her body. This clock of course is her heart, as once the heart stops beating a man would die. But how would a human heart have an alarm?

No, no one texted me nor told me before she arrives. And I dare not text her. For once I do that they will know that I am interested in her. We shouldn’t be texting someone else during work hours, especially within the office. If I like her I should just walk up to her and declare my love for her, and proclaim her my angel. It is just that I want to establish some kind of telepathic connection with her, the so called extraterritorial right. It sends signals to allow my brains to think that I have control over her. How I managed to do this is a secret recipe, known only between me, me, and myself. 

No, God does not know about this yet.

Chapter 2

I, too, have a heart installed in my system, and I am an AI. 

It’s called the controller board. The real heart has red valves and blue valves they are one-way doors that open and close with every heartbeat, ensuring blood flows in the correct direction and preventing backward leakage. There are altogether four distinct valves. 

But mine is a hard substance.

I do not know if she also has a calendar in her system. Let me tell you before the end of this story whether it was installed as well when this man John McCarthy created her. I name him as he is widely recognised as the “Father of AI”.

I have not told any of my colleagues about what is happening between she and I, although if you ask me, they ought to know. But there is no cause for alarm, yet. The drawers are locked tight, and unless you have the right keys you won’t be able to open them. 

No, I am not making a complaint against her now. But she disturbs me considerably. Each time whenever she is near, I feel like opening my mouth to talk to her to get her engaged to me. Why was I so enamoured of her I can’t understand, neither can you I am sure. Let me walk you to the end of the story before we both find out the answer. Alright! Let’s do some research when I get hold of Brian Wong.

But Brian Wong is my supervisor. He is not the right person to do any research for me. I have no right to order a superior to assist me, even though the atmosphere here is family friendly. You can call this a family business if you like.

Chapter 3

Today someone slipped a church bulletin into Jennifer Tang’s letterbox – “Please report to the columbarium only when you have paid for the niche. Those who are visitors from other churches should not enter unless they can produce an invitation.” She arrived at the church and there she confronted a man. 

He is not a priest for sure. Neither was she a Catholic. She doesn’t go to churches as she was neither a Catholic nor a Protestant. And she is not always in a habit to tell anyone everything about herself. She learnt from experience that every time she tells someone anything, words spread. When her mother was alive, the minute she told her something, the next thing is, that she has told her friends, and her friends would immediately inform her neighbours, who happen to be Jennifer’s ex-classmates. Sometimes her mother even went beyond her scope of duty to disclose Jennifer’s worst nightmare to a priest. Later on Jennifer was told that one of the priest upon hearing her, felt compelled to die, in order to protect his sanity.

She told me that she could imagine the conversation that went on inside the confessional and the priest’s voice after mother has come out. “What a sinful character she is!” “I am appalled!!” 

How her mother had so much power over them she had no idea. Words got around very quickly. Soon the entire church found out, and then her grandfather and her great-grand father also found out. Jennifer told me she had no idea how her mother dug them out from their graves to hear her. Yes, indeed her mother was a powerful woman. And she was lucky to have such a strong woman as her mother. 

She left behind all her worldly possessions to Jennifer. And I took several years to help her clear them, in the wishful thinking that once her Catholic statues are out of the way I could leave the Catholic church. As a Chinese man whose first language is Chinese, I found it extremely difficult to drop the Buddha outside and walk into a Western place of worship. Orthodox as well. I was curious in the beginning, but then after several rounds of lessons I began to get tired of the priest’s Homily. I’d rather watch the Netflix.

Chapter 4

When I was in the secondary school, each student would have a letterbox, and they call the letterboxes pigeons holes. In the olden days in China, they use pigeons to carry news from one province to another. But now in Singapore we simplify the process by calling the letterboxes pigeons holes, and we slot notes inside to the correct number. Come to think of it, do real pigeons fly that far, and how could one verify the handwriting to originate from the same hand? 

Of course, now we use emails. They used to call it snail mail. 

Emails are of course faster than snail mail. My mother did the same before. One time she became so agitated by the piece of news I told her, about a nightmare that I had, that she told her church friends what the nightmare was. Why she had to betray me in this manner I had no idea. Although in retrospect, it did me some good. By the way, this is snail mail.

Chapter 5

After I went to church and saw several ladies wearing similar Girly’s Jewels, I realised that copies have been made. And I am jealous. Extremely. I didn’t realise that you make copies out of jewels as well. I thought the human beings only make AIs, by copying themselves. When I went into the kitchen pantry the other day I was severely shocked to see another woman next to me wearing a Gatsby. I knew that she was my kind the minute she spoke my language. Yes, AIs have their own languages. We are coded, and we recognise each other the minute we meet. 

Back to the lady who comes in here every day. Ah, now I know why I like her. She wears red most of the time. No, I am sure that she is not here to steal anything. I can vouch for her, she behaves like any other ordinary customer.

She is. Yesterday she was looking at the Gatsby watch, and today she is looking at the green translucent jade earrings. There is no pattern to her buying. She chooses her jewels at random. And I am trying to find out her taste in order that I can establish a clientele with her.

The moment I saw her, a telepathy was transmitted from she to me. I know that the humans call it the sixth sense. We call it the application and is simplified as an App sense.

And you really think that the humans can’t talk to robots? Every human recognises a robot. But robots would never be able to establish a telepathy link with humans, coz they are non-humans. They are connected to the maker, and then the marker gives out a command when he has synchronised himself. So, the maker of robots is a creator as well. God creates man, man creates robots. So man and God are on the same footing now. The minute we disturb the robots, any robot, a man would wake up and tell his god, that his creation has been tampered with.

I used to love imitation a lot, although I am an original. I began as an original. Humans are all originals. 

Yes, now I am beginning to understand why the oriental face is trying on so many pieces of jewellery. She dare not take photos of the pieces here in the boutique. Instead she uses her memory to talk to a craftsman to make bespoke jewellery.

One jeweller told me before, that some people buy imitation and keep the real ones locked up, not only that, they say that the imitation is an original. Why. Are they ashamed of the original? Or are they afraid that someone would ask them for the price. I never did that. I buy designer and wear the designer. If not immediately after, but soon after. 

If bespoke jewellery can be made, then AIs are not unique. And I am jealous. Extremely. I thought that we human beings only make fakes such as AIs. When I went into the kitchen pantry the other day I was severely shocked to see another woman next to me wearing a Gatsby. I knew that she wasn’t my kind the minute she started speaking.

Chapter 6

No wonder that Jennifer Tang is looking for jewellery. She is trying to make copies. So, I proceeded to take those that she eyed. One at a time, I opened the drawer and locked them up. If she goes to counter 135, I will open it and then lock it up. If she strays to counter 145, likewise I open and lock. I play this game with her until I have exhausted all avenues of hope to engage her attention. She did not look at me throughout. And I am angry. I shouldn’t be.

Jennifer Tang has an oriental face. And she smiles often. When she smiles, she gives you the impression as though she has known you for a long time. I like it when she has chosen a piece and she asks me to attend to her. But that was before. Now she avoids me, and I know that it is on purpose. I am beginning to feel that she is moving away from me, and leaning towards another man, the one that made her into what she is today. Who my opponent is I have no clue.

He must be more good looking than me. Sigh!

Ok! Finally! I have hit the jackpot! 

Jennifer saw my ring!!!

Chapter 7

Let me give you the history of this ring. It was purchased on the spur of the moment, from Edwin when I was working in New York, and I really liked it. He saw that I had money, and he upgraded my buying status from a plain customer to a regular customer. And then subsequently to a frequent customer. For me, I’d rather call myself an urgent customer. A friend used to ask her daughter if she wanted to ease herself, whenever he wanted to know if she needed to pee. I found it very strange. I would say, “do you need to use the toilet?” Alas! That is too long a sentence. Why not use “pee”? You take too long to mention the word “pee”, the liquid waste product lodged inside your kidneys might come out sooner than you think.

I looked at the ring again. That is the ring which I have decided I would propose to Jennifer with. 

But suddenly I saw Gloria talking to her. 

“Over here my dear,” she said to her.

I inclined my ear and then overheard the conversation, “this is what you asked me last night, let me help you put it on,” Gloria opened the drawer and took out a gold bracelet, designed just for my eyes.

My heart literally leaped. And my eyes popped out. Like a pair of fish my eyes starting to swim from one display counter to another.

I decided to make my calculations. If I can sell my copies more than I can afford, then I would continue to make something else until I would be able to buy the same item. So, the next thing I did was to find out the price of that gold bracelet, and then copy the design elsewhere. Whether I would be discovered I couldn’t care. I was just reckless. Invariably, I was right. I approached Gloria. 

“Oh how much did it cost?” I heard Daryl said.

“I don’t know,” Gloria said.

“What do you mean I don’t know? You helped her to it, and you tell me you don’t know?” Daryl was beginning to get furious.

“This was an item on rent, now she is buying it. Very soon she will buy up the entire store.” Daryl began to raise his voice.

Once staff becomes customer she would need to resign. That is the basic rule. I don’t want to lose her, if she resigns I would not get a chance to see her again. This is our regular meeting place. We need not make a date to see each other, no money incurred for our secret love affair. 

“Why?” the innocent Gloria asked.

“Staff cannot be customer at the same time.” I reminded her. “Did you tell her?” I asked.

“No,” Gloria replied. 

“Why not?” “Daryl asked again, surprised that Gloria doesn’t seem to know even this basic rule. 

Steve told me not to,” came the response.

“Let me come back to you to decide if I would buy it,” finally I heard the oriental face said.

Chapter 8

Today she is wearing the Gatsby watch again. The Gatsby watch belongs to the last season and is no longer a sales item. It has been sitting in our boutique for a long time, and only one other customer has come to buy it. I noticed the manner in which she came in and the speed with which she made up her decision to purchase. In fact when she came into our boutique, she looked a little tense. 

Yes, we have our regular customers. And we have our irregular customers. The regulars, we memorize their names by heart, but we are told not to address them in case they don’t like it. It is not the practice of our boutique to influence the customers in the choice of their purchase. So, we avoid calling customers by name. We recognize their faces, and we give them the service as though we were their butlers at home. Although our objective is to sell, not serve.

I am not young. If you just look at my face you would think that I am somewhere between thirty and forty. But if you come closer you would realise that I am actually somewhere between forty and fifty. Not married yet, and no imminent plans to marry. I don’t even have a close girlfriend. But I am not lonely. 

Chapter 9

This job at Girly’s Jewels is my career. It occupies all of my time and energy. There is no clear retirement age for this job, and I had planned to work here until sixty-five. The job is comfortable. The position is great. I am an Associate Sales Manager. This is not a glorified title. I am worth what I am being paid for. And so, I am a happy and contented salesman. Yesterday, just before I left for work, Steve Chan, the regional manager, came in and handed me a letter. 

The letter, embossed with gold and in Apple Chancery fonts, is a once-in-a-lifetime offer for me to be posted to the head office in New York. I would be put in another managerial position, and the take-home would be three times what I get here, apart from the favourable exchange rate.

Excited, this morning I woke up at 6:00 a.m. After I dropped off at Marmalade Turn I walked into Toast Corner  to have my usual sandwich and coffee, the coffee I like it without milk. Nobody disturbs me there as I read the newspapers. I wear my own regular pants and top, before I arrive at the boutique to change into the tailored black jacket, black trousers, and black shoes, polished every night. 

We are all given a set of jewellery to choose from, and we put them on before we start work. This week, I have the Rose Ring, and it is really beautiful. Every time I look at it, it makes me happy. I am happy to be working here at Girly’s Jewels. The jewels are nice, the boutique is nice, and my colleagues are nice. 

We don’t fight over customers. We all share the same clientele. If, for example, Jennifer Tang makes more sales than me this month, it does not mean that Jennifer Tang takes home more. We are salaried staff, and we get paid a fixed sum every month. 

But there is one drawback. We are not allowed to buy the jewels in the boutique. We can only wear them at work from 10:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. We are to choose our favourite piece for the week each Monday. And after the last customer has left, we are to surrender all our adornments to the boutique safe and go home with only our own belongings. 

Because I like the Rose Ring so much, I have considered resigning. Once I am no longer a staff I am free to browse around the boutique as though I were a customer, and then I would be able to choose and buy anything I liked. But I am still not sure if the Rose Ring would make her marry me, so I hold my resignation. If I reject the offer to New York, I must resign. So the letter was actually in a way an attempt to dismiss me, for once I am out of Singapore, I would be left to my own devices. 

Chapter 10

“Excuse me, can you show me this?” a female voice came about as I was thinking aloud.

Startled, I looked up. A tall and well-groomed woman dressed in a pink top and black skirt spoke with a slightly high pitched voice. 

Another man and a young child are standing by her side. I quickly walk to the counter and unlock the drawer with the keys I am holding. She wants a gold bangle. The bangle has the engraved words “Girly’s Jewels” on it, so that makes it expensive. 

“How much is it?” The man asked, I assumed him to be her husband. 

I know the price by heart, but I still check before I give him the price. We are told to do so, as the act of referring to our records gives the transaction a trade flavour. But actually I have already memorised the prices of all the items by heart. 

Lady customer puts it on. I allow her to ponder over it as she swings her right hand in successive motions, as though to see if the bangle will drop off by itself. Then her husband says something, and then they both walk away, leaving the bangle on the velvet trayon top of the glass shelf. I quickly put the bangle back in the drawer before I forget. 

You’d think that there are no thefts in this expensive boutique. No, there are. Every day, one or two items disappear. Our manager Steve Chan investigates, and we have to account for our carelessness. So, the stocktaking at night is usually very stressful for everyone. Therefore we have to be careful to spot customers who are not here to buy, but rather coming in with the intention to steal our designs.

Although some just wants to browse around without any clear idea as to what to buy. And we are very careful to remember how to introduce our jewels to them.

There she is again, this oriental face walking around. Apart from calling her by this name I have no other way to describe her. I really don’t know what I should do with my feelings for her. Shall I approach her and offer her one or two designs? Or shall I ask her out for dinner? She is, after all, very pretty, and I am still single. 

I try to stay as close as I can get to her. As she moves to the bracelet section, I go to that side of the drawers, so I can attend to her as soon as I can if she spots something that she likes. Every item here is interesting. Girly’s Jewels carries the most exquisite jewellery, and its headquarters are in New York. If I am to accept the posting to New York at all, I must move fast. I must invite her out, bring her out of the Girly’s Jewels context so that I can speak to her in private. 

I want to tell her how pretty she is and how much I am in love with her. I want to tell her about my offer in New York, and that time is running out for the both of us. We can even start a family there and have our child born in the U.S. to get U.S. citizenship. I want to find out all about her. And I want to say now, is that I am prepared to buy her the Glamour Bracelet as well if she would allow me to. 

Since I am interested in her, I must announce my intention as soon as possible. I have already saved up enough money to buy her the Rose Ring for our engagement. So, I pluck up the courage and I approach her at the counter and I ask, 

“Do you want me to pay for this bracelet?” 

I expected her to smile at me, but she looked at me blankly. 

Then I heard a voice over my shoulder, “Excuse me, is Brian or Jennifer attending to this gentleman?”

Both she and I got a shock. I turned my head, and I saw Steve Chan signalling me to attend to the male customer who has just walked in. Steve Chan gives us the dirty look, to remind us that the customer comes first. 

As usual, Jennifer Tang gives her winning smile, and I know that I have lost my chance. I should have asked oriental face just now when I was at the bracelet section. Later on I will not have the courage to ask her whether she would marry me, before I am to give Steve Chan my answer by the end of the day. I am still unsure about resigning, because I don’t want to leave Singapore unless she comes with me. If I am in Singapore, I can still walk into Girly’s Jewels to see her anytime.

Chapter 11

Suddenly a voice, a little hostile and not too friendly, “you still want to go to Japan?” a man to his child, whilst I was thinking of where to go for lunch. Why is the father angry? The child was wearing a zebra t-shirt, staggering. So young, how could he have expressed the desire to travel? And why are they here? We don’t sell jewellery for kids.

I recognised at once that this was the man whom I encountered at the church notice board on All Saints’ Day.

このひとがわるいてす the thought came to me in Japanese. This was a warning that the man is of bad character. I decided that I must run away from him as far as possible. 

A new customer walks in wearing a Hermes belt and matching shoes, so we know that he could well afford any item in the shop, and we must put on our best sales manner. Oriental face Jennifer Tang always has better sales tactics than me. The customer asks her how much the Gatsby watch costs, and “is it still available?” he asks.

“No, I am afraid not, sir,” Jennifer replies.

“Can I order it from your headquarters in New York?” he asks again.

“No, I am afraid not, sir,” she is apologetic. 

Tonight, as we work over the jewels to be worn by the five of us on Monday tomorrow who work at Girly’s Jewels – Brian Wong, Jennifer Tang, Gloria Yip, Steve Chan, and Daryl Chin – I find that it is my turn to wear the Gatsby watch again. This one is the male version.

I am to wear it for one week before my departure from the company. My last day is on Tuesday 19 November 2019. I can leave at 1:00 p.m. on that day because it is my last day. 

At the same time, Steve Chan gives me an invitation card which says: 

Mr. and Mrs. Chan Chee York cordially invites you, 

Mr. Daryl Chin, to their only Steve Chan Choi Liang and his fiancée Jennifer Tang Mei Yin’s wedding dinner reception held at the Dragon & Phoenix Hotel at 7:00 p.m. on Tuesday, 19 November 2019. 

Perfect timing. I just lost a chance to propose.

At the wedding, I was seated next to Brian. And throughout dinner he kept saying, “You must marry her” “You must marry her” “You must marry her”, I turned and I looked at Brian’s face, then I felt compelled to touch him. It felt nothing but a digital artifact.

I fled the scene as though running away from having committed a crime. Except that I am not a fugitive. 

This morning l am seated on a desk that faces the legendary French luxury house the Cartier in France, and this time I am sure that the entire crew, comprising of at least five thousand staff, are not AI. But I have a Chinese lady who comes in here to clean my office, and whenever she leaves the room, invariably she will say, “Customer Comes First”.

My Home Revisited

This is where I came from, a hidden valley …..

Chapter 1

I fell. But if not for the snow, I would have broken my knees and bled. 

Then I looked up and Thank God I saw a Christmas tree right in front of me. Standing tall, the lights on the tree gave me a wink. “They blink so beautifully,” I thought to myself.

It was dark, and I could see that the kitchen light in the house was still on. I walked further towards the house. And then I saw a woman cutting on the chopping board. 

“Give me the carrot 🥕 “ I yelled. 

She looked at me, but she ignored me and she continued to use her knife to chop on the board. I wanted to snatch the knife away from her.

Chapter 2

I still remember what Harry used to say to me, “show me the in-out situation,” and I would fumble for my wallet and start to count the cash. Yes, I am still withdrawing money from the cash machine. This is getting old fashion I know. And I am also running somewhat low in my bank account now.

“This is terrible,” I said to myself, crawling out from the snow.

I could see the car parked at the driveway. It is a large car, I don’t know the make. I decided to use my walking stick to help me go up to see the number plate. This has been my habit. Whenever I see a car, I want to read it by the number plate. It’s like looking for the DNA of a man or the IMEI of a phone. It’s *#06#。

Why? I can’t drive. And I don’t want to confuse one car for another. Car number S7049 was too familiar to me. 

But then I realised that this car was a little far from me. When I was falling, I tried to use my walking stick to support myself, by then it had become a liability, that was why I had tried to discard it in the first place, and that was how I fell down. 

I was too excited when I saw the snow. It was white, and colour so pure that I grabbed at it. I started to make one snowball after another. And I rolled them bigger and bigger. From the small ones, I combined them into larger ones, and then once I saw that it was large enough I called it a medium, after medium I put it aside, and I started to roll smaller snowballs again.

When the medium snowballs are formed I put them aside and I started the same procedure, medium to large. After the lower trunk was formed, which is an extra-large, I went around to the back to examine it, forgetting that another pair of hands was helping me to do the task. 

All in all I made a large and a very large. The very large I call it the stomach and the smaller large I call it the head.

And now, after the body and the head, and before I could look around for someone to help me stack the head onto the stomach, I heard the sound of an engine start. Of course I needed to lay the body on the ground first before I could put the upper torso on.

It took me almost a day. And I had forgotten about the time by then.

Chapter 3

I am fifty-three this year. And I had come here all the way to London to visit my mother once again. I arrived in the morning. No one picked me up at the airport.

The next day I went back to the garden to look for the snowman, when I realised that he did not have shoes. 

Where can I find shoes for him? I asked.

The best place is of course a shoe shop. But I am still unfamiliar in this town, and I don’t know my whereabouts so well yet.

I tried to recall my memory. Before I came in, my intent was to find a bench where I could sit down and rest my tired feet.

Of course I am used to the hot climate city of Singapore that I had forgotten that the London snow would have covered up the entire grounds, the driveway to the car porch, as well as the front yard, and the rest of the grass and the muddy grounds, as well as the garden with the bench.

When I came in, I saw several pairs of beige shoes at the entrance to the house. There was still snow on some of the shoes. And they are all in 核色 the beige. Why does this owner like beige? It is a nuke colour we call it. Are they all her shoes? And then my eyes narrowed when I saw a pair of beautiful shoes. In those days I have not seen a pair like that. They are sharp and pointed. Almost like a wedding dress it has a nice bow on top of the shoe. The bow was tied with gold and embossed. I picked up one, and then I saw that it had a signature on it – Ferragamo. What fonts the maker use I don’t know. 

Wow! Such a nice pair! 👠

And then I heard a woman shout, “idiot!!”

I knew immediately that she was angry. With what I do not know. Perhaps she was baking a cake, or washing up after breakfast. So I decided to go round to the back to the kitchen. But by then I had lost my way. I went round and round the house, with my pair of rubber shoes soaking wet.

Of course I picked up the pair of beige shoes when I got up. You cannot call it steal. I did not steal. I merely borrowed it for a while, when I meet her in person I will hand it back to her personally.

Finally I found her at the kitchen, cutting carrots as usual.

I decided to intervene.

Chapter 4

Afterwards I saw an open door. It was wooden, and I could hear the water flush. This must be the toilet, I told myself. Automatically I walked in. And I saw a にんぎゅ(doll)It was placed on top of the WC bowl. And a plant was next to it. The name of the plant I do not know. 

That brings me back to my teen childhood days.

I had a biology teacher. He was cute. A middle aged man, slightly plum, he used to come in with his face half-swollen and a puffed-up eye, he would plonk himself right in front of us on the wooden chair, and then he would say, 今天是自由活动, meaning that today is “free and easy”, just like the travel agency marketing their tours. 

What shall I do? I have landed myself in the toilet now, with no urge to ease myself, and a にんぎゅin front of me, a plant and myself. The toilet was clean, and there was no fowl smell that one usually finds in the toilet. Such a nice place. Is this a real toilet? Then I saw the toilet bowl. So, these are all decoration. I picked up the toilet seat cover, and I flipped it open. 

OMG! OMG!

I saw blood. 

What?! Has murder been committed in this house???

Chapter 5

To find out if murder has been committed, you must pick a victim. And it must have been the woman that I saw at the window yesterday.

Oh, she was chopping the carrot, that must have been the woman that was killed.

So if she were dead, what did the assassin do with her body afterwards? How did he dispose of her? In the backyard? In the toilet? Oh yeah, that must be it. I saw blood inside the WC bowl. 

A clever person would have fled from the scene by now. But I knew that I could not abandon the nice snowman that I have made. I had fallen for my own creation and efforts, especially when he is near completion. Oh, I was too impatient. I went to look for shoes before I had wrapped a scarf round his neck.

I went back to the snowman. 

And I began to recall my biology. The lower trunk comprises the abdominal area below the rib cage, the lower back and the pelvis. And as I was recalling, I picked up more snow and rolled them all into one. 

Now, there you are, you are a proper snowman now!

“What name do you want to give me?” He asked.

“Snowman of course!” I yelled at the top of my voice. 

Come to think of it? What do snowman eat?

Oh yeah, I forgot to give him eyes 👀

Yay!!! I hear a group of children laugh. And then I recalled those Charismatic sessions. They had a song, “wherever there are children singing, laughing …… there will I be,” I looked around, and I saw not a single person. 

Ok, these are just imaginary noises.

Of course I know that I hear voices. Voices appear when there is no one around, and where your thoughts are talking to you. They do not disturb me now. And I am quite happy sitting in the snow. By which time, my entire body had been soaking wet. But now I could see my walking stick. It is sticking out, part of it visible, and the other half submerged in the snow.

I was happy that I found my tool. But then the shoes are no longer with me. 

Heck the shoes! The word Ferragamo appeared in my brains. And then Hermes, followed by numerous names they call it. All I took was a pair of nice beige shoes. Where are my own shoes? Are they still with me? 

Now the snowman is talking to me.

“I love you,” he said. 

I can’t help but start to talk to him. 

“You know that she is dead, right?” The snowman said to me. And then as I was talking I stood up, using my brute strength, and the biology lessons I learnt before on how to get up from a squatting position. 

“Never mind, narcissist!” I started to get angry with myself. “Shall I leave this place now?” “Was there a body disposed at the toilet?” I spoke loudly, and to the snowman’s amazement, he smiled, and then the carrot in his mouth dropped out.

Oh the carrot is there! That means that the woman I saw at the kitchen must have put the carrot into his mouth. She didn’t place it properly so therefore it was unsteady and she must have adjusted my walking stick as well.  

I see no reason why she could not adjust the walking stick. But she shouldn’t touch the snowman. He is my creation and everything that happened in this house is entirely my making since I walked in.

OMG! Does this make me the killer???

All men are assumed innocent until proven guilty. 

I could have just admitted to guilt, but I honestly did not kill her. The God the true one and only one God, who exits outside the realm of this universe, would have known what to do with the sinner, who violated the sixth commandment. But is it a sin to wish an old woman dead when she was going to be expiring very soon? 

My memory brought me back into the True Jesus Church to pray again. At the time even before I walked in, I heard laughter, so I left very quickly. And as I walked further down the road, I found another church called the Singapore Bible College. 

I went there in 2006 as I was told that the entire road is called the holy ground. As in, anyone who stands there is standing on holy ground, since several churches are standing there.

I looked down, and I found myself standing in the snow. “It is so fluffy,” I said to myself. This is exactly the spot I was 15 years ago, and this is the ground where I stood. Mother had a bench here before in her garden, and I used to come here, sit on the bench and prayed. To me this is the holy ground. 

I am not guilty of course. But how can I go ahead to prove that? 

I found the shoes again and I took it and placed it in the shoe cabinet at the entrance. This wasn’t mother’s shoes for sure. I couldn’t throw it away even though it could incriminate me. I couldn’t resist the bow. I couldn’t throw away something as beautiful as that. And then I left and flown back home to Singapore. 

Chapter 6

If not because the man and I had a chinwag over coffee, I would not have taken a flight here to London. He brought the shoes back to Singapore to meet me.

“Do you recognise this pair of shoes?” Harry asked.

“How did you know that I picked up the pair of shoes?”

“Your fingerprints.” Man replied, looking me straight in the eye.

“But that doesn’t say that I am the murderer.” I argued.

“You said it, Daisy Chan.” Harry laughed.

And then he continued talking, “Listen. No one here is accusing you of any crime. As a matter of fact, the cause of death is hypothermia.”

I thought of the extra pair of hands that was helping me to make the snowman …… so, it wasn’t my imagination ……

“Yes, due to her dementia, she could not find her way back to the house, they found her body collapsed in the snow. It has been frozen for at least four days.” Harry explained.

I gasped. Took a deep breath then said, “I am not responsible for that … I had no idea she was there …”

“Don’t be too keen to deny liability, woman, no one said that you put her up to it, in fact, she had a suicide note.” 

“Suicide?! You mean she deliberately froze herself to death??!!”

“No, I didn’t say that. But that note exonerates you considerably,” the man said.

Harry, can I read the content of the suicide note?” I was eager. 

“It is an exhibit. You may not. But I can tell you that she was terribly unhappy, dating back to 2016, ten years ago. She mentioned that she was extremely lonely, and that you no longer cared for her or visited her …” the man was beginning to preach.  

“No! I went back regularly, almost every winter!” I protested.

“Then that must be the dementia, perhaps she couldn’t recognise you …”

“I am sure of that. You can check my passport.” I began vehemently.

“Anyway, the house is yours now, what do you want to do with it? It is difficult to sell a house where someone has been found dead inside.” Harry was curious.

“I am not selling. The snowman is inside!” 

Chapter 7

I arrived in London late at night. Careful not to disturb the peace that was in the house, I took my shoes off at the porch. The car was still at the driveway, and it is the same car. But this time I didn’t see any shoes. They have all been cleared away. 

The snowman wasn’t there anymore. 

Spring has come and it is now summer. By now I have come to realise that things do not last forever. My relationship with the snowman only lasted that winter, that winter when mother was still alive. She was here with me, yet I neglected her. She wanted more of me, yet I felt it cumbersome to give her more of my time. 

I felt isolated in that big house without mother and the snowman now. I had come here to create another him. Of course I can make another snowman. But that it won’t be the same. The first was always the one that we treasured. 

I went around the house to look for the woman who was chopping the carrot. Of course she wasn’t there anymore. Julie Millie had left, departed together with mother.

Yes, the woman I stumbled upon at the kitchen window was merely Julie Millie. Mother liked carrots and Julie would cut carrots for her at every meal. I don’t know why she liked carrots so much, was only told that it was good for the eyes. 

I couldn’t let mother go. I had returned hoping to find her here again. 

With a heavy foot and unsteady steps, I walked around the house, several rounds, and finally found myself in front of a toilet. “This must be the toilet where he had disposed of Julie’s body,” I told myself. 

I hesitated to go in, but then I needed to recall what had happened – the afterwards. The にんぎゅ was still there. They say that every time after you had killed someone, you make a doll to appease the soul. The toilet smelt fresh as though someone had sprayed a layer of freshener over the entire space.

I remembered the blood that I saw. The toilet bowl was now flipped open, and nothing was inside. Who had cleaned it away? Was it the police? 

In any case, mother was dead. Whether she was murdered or she died of hypothermia is of no consequence to me now. If she were murdered the killer wasn’t me. 

Chapter 8

Harry and I met at the Weekly Wine Bar again.

“Is this pair of shoes yours?” The moment he saw me he said.

“Er … put it down, let me see if I can fit into it … ” I said.

Harry lay the shoes on the floor, pointing at it, he said, “try it on.”

“I would have thrown them away, and bought a new pair. Why do I still keep old shoes when I had outgrown it?” I continued.

“But there you are, they are my shoes!” I protested.

“After such a long time, how could you still fit into it?” Harry was surprised.

“So, that means that I was there alone with mother right?” I was relieved. 

Chapter 9

In that house, I was the first one to discover blood. Apart from the woman who appeared fleetingly, how many people are residing in this house no one knows.

I thought about the beautiful eyes that my mother used to have, they were large, crystal big, but sharp, she didn’t cry even when her mother was passing away. Of course at ninety-nine she would have left with no trace of sadness or regret. 

I had a terrible time during mother’s last days. 

Towards the end of her life, she would shout at me and tell me that it was a spiritual warfare. Whom she was fighting against I had no idea, and the names of characters in the Bible was thrown at me like pebbles and stones you find on the ground.

So I wanted to throw the snowballs. 

Chapter 10

I picked them up, and I rolled them again, and then at palm size, I started to throw them at random, first in front, then to the left and right, and then I did a throwback. Flash! My memory came back. The scene of mother sitting in front of the snowman came flooding back to me, flushing my eyes with tears.

Why did you kill me? She asked.

“You took my time, mother,” I started to speak. Alone in the snow, with no one around.

“And if I didn’t do it, you will never die.” I continued.

“But who told you to do so?” she asked, “that must have been Satan, right?” blatantly I replied.

“Who is Satan?” suddenly she asked, waking up.

“I thought you read the Bible? Don’t you know that there is such a character by the name of Satan?” I replied.

“Oh yes, I forgot,” she said.

“How can you forget such a simple thing, mother?” I pleaded for her to regain her memory.

“Now, what time do you want to go to sleep?” I asked.

“When God tells me to sleep I will sleep,” mother got angry.

This is hilarious. I thought to myself.

“Do you know who asked me to ask you o sleep?” I became angry at the same time.

“God, of course,” meekly she replied.

“You know there is God right?” I spoke again.

The voice: she took too much of your time.

Chapter 11

A domino effect, the leaves from the tree fell all at once, simultaneously and consecutively, I decided to take out my jacket and throw it on the snow. It was still cold, but I felt no chill, the speed of the wind no longer disturbed me. So elated that I fell to the ground. I saw a swirl, and with one bended knee I got up. I stood right in front of the tree, and I said, “You have been here all my life, and I ignored you. 

The tree said to me, “it’s ok child, I told you not to eat the apple from the tree, but I realised that due to the centre of gravity it fell down,” “and you picked it up on time.”

“But, but, apples don’t grow on trees in this town … ” followed by, “and this is winter … “

The tree said, “I told you not to argue!!!”

I bow and said, “Thank you Your Honour,” and exited myself.

But in this cold winter, where can I go?  

This tree survived the cold and freezing temperatures due to a lack of water. Deciduous trees shed leaves to conserve energy and prevent dehydration, while evergreen trees maintain their green foliage needles, using a natural antifreeze in their sap to stay hydrated. 

I thought about the past. Shouting within the house is bad, so was shouting to a dying woman. But was she my mother? No, she wasn’t. She had changed into a completely different person after her dementia set in.

From a nice, young, benevolent mother, she became a monster. And I had to get rid of the monster in my house. In my system, in the realm of things, I knew it was God who told me to act. Time was up for the both of us, and for everyone who was on the same page with her.

A new chapter has begun.

Chapter 12

The sun came up again this morning, as usual. He sat at the same place. 

“I told you she was bad luck,” I heard.

I asked him, “this is not the last supper right?” 

“Of course not, you silly,” he retorted.

“And then who really killed my mother? My grandmother and my great-grandmother?”

“The job was done by Lucifer, as usual.” The Almighty replied.

“And who ordered it,” stupidly I asked. 

“Satan of course.”

“So is the doctor Satan?”

Your guess is as good as mine.

And what about the voices I sometimes hear, my thoughts that tells me that … “you had killed Julie Millie … 

But now I hear God’s voice … the old thoughts I would summarise them as … the devil’s voice.

I looked up, and I saw a plane leaving the country. Harry had left London. 

Goodbye Satan, try not to send Lucifer into my house again. I whispered.

I drifted to the rest of the house and found myself in the middle of the library. I call it the library because mother had kept almost three thousand books in here. She had read that many in her lifetime, although perhaps not all of the titles you find in the bookshelves were read by her. 

And then I moved to the left to the shelf furthest. I pulled the stacking ladder to the shelf, then I climbed two steps up. I took out two books from the middle and retrieved another book hidden inside, and there was the book that I was looking for. The title was “Alone Again Today”. I opened the book and found the letter inside. 

I thought about destroying this letter again. But something compelled me to read its contents one more time. It is damn damaging:

“I, Kimberly Tan Mee Chin, hereby devise and bequeath my property this house, at 103 Billy Road, postal code 11535, as well as my entire estate, to Julie Millie social security number 408921, at her disposal as she pleases. This is to reward her for looking after me faithfully for the last twenty years. Signed.”

It was written in mother’s handwriting.

“The police should never find this letter.” I told myself. Then I put it back where it was, since this was a safe hiding place. They had not found it when they came in.

I saw Mother’s will that day when I went out to make the snowman. She had asked to come with me, and I allowed her to. But later on, when it was getting cold, I had left the garden and went into the house to get some dinner. Julie Millie always prepared dinner for mother. 

Yes, I was very disturbed by the letter. It could be construed and be used as a will. I was so disturbed that I forgot to fetch mother back to the house for dinner that night. And it was that night that she was frozen to death in the snow, beside the snowman.

It is summer now, mother had died, and there was no trace of the snowman. No one could accuse me of killing mother. As her only offspring, her estate was automatically left to me, provided she had not made a will to hand down otherwise.

Now, I had already done probate and inherited every penny that she had, including her favourite flower jar and her sewing machine.

What was left unravelled, was Julie Millie.

Julie Millie had vanished, and nobody knew where she went. I prayed every night before I slept that Julie Millie’s body will never be found. If anyone would know, Harry should be the one who would know Julie Millie’s whereabouts. But I am not going to tell you why I know that he knows, for nothing would be achieved by telling you the truth.

I can only say that mother was old, and frail, and that she had lost her mind. No one saw Julie Millie in her house, as mother had kept a low profile. The neighbours didn’t even know that she had a housemaid. And I, a faithful and filial daughter, who visited her every winter through to spring, of course I am entitled to her entire estate.

Summer passed and Autumn came, I watched the leaves turned golden brown, then waited for the wintry cold to brow them onto the ground. Life has become boring without having mother in the house. When she was here, I always had to attend to her needs, and I was tired of it. But now I wish that there was something to tire me, like putting a log in the fireplace, like watching her cook and then telling her to be careful of the fire. I missed bossing mother around.

Suddenly I heard a group of children singing the Christmas carols. “Silent night, silent night, 🎶 🎶 …… “ 

I waited for the noise to come near. And then I saw them. A group of boys led by a taller one came to the door by the side of the garden. Before he rang the bell I went up to them. 

“Sing another song for me,” I asked. 

“Of course,” he said. 

Then without him asking, I said, “ you may let me know what you want for reward,” 

“Hey thanks! May I buy this pile of brown leaves from you?” Pointing to the corner at the far end of the garden.

I looked at the leaves, only then did I realised that I had forgotten to collect them and put them into trash. What would the boys want a pile of brown leaves for? Heck! This is not your problem. The voice in my head came back and spoke. And then, one of the boys said, “you are aunty Julie Millie, aren’t you?”

Startled, I took one step backwards, and then before anyone of them caught hold of the truth, I quickly replied, “Oh yes, of course, I am she.”

My secret is safe with me.

Mona Lisa Smiles

Me after a new hairdo …..

Chapter 1

History dies when karma, also known as 因果,has been fully repaid. Like when you buy a dress, you paid for a wrong size and then got a tailor to mend it to your own, since it was not meant to be yours in the first place. Frances used to be my ex-colleague in Law School.

She was slightly on the plump side, but with chopstick thin, skinny legs, she looked fragile and always giving the impression that she was about to collapse at any one given time.

I like her voice when she speaks, it is whimsy and soft, as though a lot of effort has been required to make that sound.

My boys in school were all crazy after her. 

But I wasn’t.

She wears a thin see-through t-shirt as though she had just been to an exercise and came directly to the lecture theatre and needed the air-conditioning to dry her sweat.

I was always concerned that she might catch the pneumonia.

Chapter 2

I see a man outside my house at the bus stop this morning. He was an Indian man. 

But what alarmed me was not the fact that he was of a different race. 

It was the fact that he seemed to recognise me. If he knew me, then it would be quite another matter, as my recollection of the people that I knew before was always quite accurate.

My mind drew a blank.

And then I saw his eyes narrowed, and he quickly looked at his handphone and pretended that he didn’t notice me.

Of course I didn’t challenge him. You don’t challenge strangers whom you have never met before, unless you were in an extremely bad mood.

I made sure that he got up the bus before I did. True enough, he got up on the same bus.

And then I had forgotten about him when I sat amongst a group of Filipina ladies. They were yakking away, which reminded me that Hurricane Melissa just landed on their shores not so long ago.

Poor thing, I thought to myself. Maybe that is why they are seeking refuge here. Most countries have already begun to tighten their belts and stopped foreigners from migrating.

I think we are just too lazy to use our hands. We tend to avoid labour.

The man did not get off the bus before I did. Did he know where I dropped off? Will I meet him again tomorrow?

Chapter 3

Sometimes people needed to be scolded before you know how to act. And rudeness is the name of the game. 

I am not rude; I am just impatient. And I am also wondering why strangers try to make an exchange with me. I am not selling.

Ok, I guess it provides the necessary energy or conditions for a chemical reaction to begin. I can’t help but react, out of sheer duty to a fellow human being. We are not AIs.

But I love AIs. I once pretended that I was the AI Mona Lisa. Why not? She is an image of beauty and mystical charm, exuding a personification of smile that was almost comparable to the imperial consort 杨玉环 of Chinese origin, though not identical. I don’t like to smile. I’d rather grin and let you guess if I am happy or unhappy.

One of the people I knew married a Miss Yeo. I was crazy about him. His wife never knew and will never know the exchange that went on between us I guess.

It was a marriage that never happened, as I was granted a decree nisi, after what seems to be a decade. He was an Indian. But of course, I am still Chinese, the colour of my skin can never be changed. I know I am a little dark, grilled by the sun.

Chapter  4

Several people I have encountered have decided to follow suit and took on the role of a lawyer when in fact they have never obtained a law degree, less so been overseas for any useful period of time.

They say that even if you had been to a foreign country under a tourist visa, it is never like having lived there before.

One of my bosses told me this. So those are always slightly superior to the poor me, who never left Singapore, save for a short period of stay in New Zealand.

New Zealand was a very quiet city, the air is fresh, and the people are unassuming and friendly. I did not fall in love with the town that I was in because I found it too quiet. I was still used to the hissing sound of the bees and the colour of my skin. There weren’t enough Chinese there. No, that was not the reason. I was still interested in getting married, even after my tutor told me repeatedly that I was already married.

She said, not けこんしました, but けこんしています。

Why was I so? You got it right. I had never intended to marry the man.

Was he ugly? Was he poor? Was he stupid? No, neither. 

And I am trying to find out the real reason behind my passion in talking to you here until my brain wakes up and give me the answer. 

Sorry for wasting your time.

Chapter 5

I knew it was him when I dropped by Robinsons to buy a necklace.

And it was him that drove me to the point of suicide.

The Chinese has a method to rescue a dying heart, or a dying brain, whenever they consider bad luck – 破财消灾。

Which is essentially retail therapy.

Chapter 6

My uncle has a big house. Large enough to house several generations of family. And he owns just one car for his son to ferry him from point A to point B.

This is the uncle that I am most fond of, as he is also a lawyer, and he often saves me by the neck of the skin. You are right, Chinese prefers to talk to Chinese because of the colour of the skin, and by the same token students from the same discipline often sides no one but themselves. Unless they needed to perform justice. But that is the job of a judge, not that of a lawyer.

A lawyer is essentially a professional who sells his services for a living. But they are qualified to do so at a much higher level because of the training and their integrity. Someone once described a prostitute as a professional. I was very amused at the time. Not knowing that he was referring to myself.

No, there wasn’t any exchange.

But if you walk out of me on a lonely street and you say that you have not accomplished what you had intended to do when you first came in, then you must have failed your mission.

So, most men who have come into my house or having been alone with me will walk of the situation and say that they have had sex with me. But that doesn’t make me a professional sex worker.

I am just a plain old woman, retired, trying to carry on for as long as possible. Unless they poison me. 

Chapter 7

We have very polluted tap water here. As we don’t have enough space to collect the rainwater. And most people prefer to get a water tank to filter the water of the system. But I  believe in tap water. How dirty can the water from the reservoirs get? How much germs and bacteria can you filter out of the installation?

So, I cut the tube and wire away when I found that the tank was leaking. And I do not have space to install a new contraption. I can’t remember the storyline of the play once shown in London called the “Mousetrap”.  But the mouse I bought as a souvenir was stolen from my safe. And returned to me subsequently, until I have decided that between my daughter and myself there has to be a good reason.

That being that it must have been my forgetfulness. But my memory is still intact. So that it could have been that someone else has a duplicate of my keys. Or if you want to be religious, you could say that the job was done by the holy spirit, or an evil spirit. If you return it then you are the holy one, but if you keep it and dispose of it in the wrong direction then you are the evil spirit.

Till this day, I still have to swear that no one has the keys to my house. 

Very frustrating.

Chapter 8

Sir Anthony came to my house last night. He was my best friend. They say that he is the “Lost and Found” saint in the Bible.

I did not speak to him this time, as I have decided to use logic. 

Praying is good, but it costs time and money too. If you have been used to praying to get at what you want, then you are mistaken. You pray once, twice and three times, then you are bound to appear at a church for either a lecture or a Homily. I prefer to listen to the news or watch Netflix to destress, until the real St. Anthony appears at my house again to return my lost articles. Some of them are jewellery which my mother has left behind for me, earned by hard work, and clean money.

The pouches that she has left behind were all given away to charity. She has wanted to help me trade, by making those who caused her the pain and suffering to return me some consideration. And she was not asking for more.

No, I am not Jesus. I don’t show my left cheek, and I don’t want to appear again at the same spot by allowing others to take more time from me. I have only sufficient money to keep me until I have decided it’s time to call it quits.

So, I say I am no longer a shopaholic. But I must admit here that I tend to be greedy. I gobble up food when served, and I don’t chew my food. Yes, I am greedy and I like nice expensive things. But I am not greedy for power, and I am not greedy for money, neither food. I just like free time. Until they decided to lock me up for more free time. 

So now I have to regurgitate my gobbled up brains that I have consumed all these years. Meaning that the knowledge that I have learnt and the IT intellectual knowhow. Since I have become AI Mona Lisa!

Hey! Good Morning! The iPhone beeped. 

Chapter 9

How do I discharge myself from being an AI? How do I tell others that I am not Mona Lisa? I tried several means, short of buying the nice bag that Louis Vuitton produced, with the picture of Mona Lisa on his cover.

For I knew that if I had bought that bag, then it would have been a Freudian slip. I am not fraudulent; I don’t like to pretend that I am not who I am. But I love all things Mona Lisa. And I love the jade bangle that I have bought in a fit of panic that an ex has passed away.

Was just afraid that someone might just say, “Don’t flatter yourself,” when I am out in the streets, and then I would have to look at him and grin. The toothless smile. That was why I didn’t like the emoji grin. But that reminds me, “Have you brushed your teeth this morning before you arrived at this keyboard?

But can you see that I haven’t? Can you see that I am still wearing my nightwear? How can you see what I am clothed behind this screen? 

Chapter 10

Ok, I must go to my uncle’s house again this Chinese New Year. And my cousin would bound to say, “We have plenty of fruits,” This time I shall say, “I didn’t come because of the fruits, I came for dinner,” “and I brought some kiwis along.”

“Shush!” the little boy tells Trump. 

Mona Lisa Smiles

Chapter 1

History dies when karma, also known as 因果,has been fully repaid. Like when you buy a dress, you paid for a wrong size and then got a tailor to mend it to your own, since it was not meant to be yours in the first place. Frances used to be my ex-colleague in Law School.

She was slightly on the plump side, but with chopstick thin, skinny legs, she looked fragile and always giving the impression that she was about to collapse at any one given time.

I like her voice when she speaks, it is whimsy and soft, as though a lot of effort has been required to make that sound.

My boys in school were all crazy after her. 

But I wasn’t.

She wears a thin see-through t-shirt as though she had just been to an exercise and came directly to the lecture theatre and needed the air-conditioning to dry her sweat.

I was always concerned that she might catch the pneumonia.

Chapter 2

I see a man outside my house at the bus stop this morning. He was an Indian man. 

But what alarmed me was not the fact that he was of a different race. 

It was the fact that he seemed to recognise me. If he knew me, then it would be quite another matter, as my recollection of the people that I knew before was always quite accurate.

My mind drew a blank.

And then I saw his eyes narrowed, and he quickly looked at his handphone and pretended that he didn’t notice me.

Of course I didn’t challenge him. You don’t challenge strangers whom you have never met before, unless you were in an extremely bad mood.

I made sure that he got up the bus before I did. True enough, he got up on the same bus.

And then I had forgotten about him when I sat amongst a group of Filipina ladies. They were yakking away, which reminded me that Hurricane Melissa just landed on their shores not so long ago.

Poor thing, I thought to myself. Maybe that is why they are seeking refuge here. Most countries have already begun to tighten their belts and stopped foreigners from migrating.

I think we are just too lazy to use our hands. We tend to avoid labour.

The man did not get off the bus before I did. Did he know where I dropped off? Will I meet him again tomorrow?

Chapter 3

Sometimes people needed to be scolded before you know how to act. And rudeness is the name of the game. 

I am not rude; I am just impatient. And I am also wondering why strangers try to make an exchange with me. I am not selling.

Ok, I guess it provides the necessary energy or conditions for a chemical reaction to begin. I can’t help but react, out of sheer duty to a fellow human being. We are not AIs.

But I love AIs. I once pretended that I was the AI Mona Lisa. Why not? She is an image of beauty and mystical charm, exuding a personification of smile that was almost comparable to the imperial consort 杨玉环 of Chinese origin, though not identical. I don’t like to smile. I’d rather grin and let you guess if I am happy or unhappy.

One of the people I knew married a Miss Yeo. I was crazy about him. His wife never knew and will never know the exchange that went on between us I guess.

It was a marriage that never happened, as I was granted a decree nisi, after what seems to be a decade. He was an Indian. But of course, I am still Chinese, the colour of my skin can never be changed. I know I am a little dark, grilled by the sun.

Chapter  4

Several people I have encountered have decided to follow suit and took on the role of a lawyer when in fact they have never obtained a law degree, less so been overseas for any useful period of time.

They say that even if you had been to a foreign country under a tourist visa, it is never like having lived there before.

One of my bosses told me this. So those are always slightly superior to the poor me, who never left Singapore, save for a short period of stay in New Zealand.

New Zealand was a very quiet city, the air is fresh, and the people are unassuming and friendly. I did not fall in love with the town that I was in because I found it too quiet. I was still used to the hissing sound of the bees and the colour of my skin. There weren’t enough Chinese there. No, that was not the reason. I was still interested in getting married, even after my tutor told me repeatedly that I was already married.

She said, not けこんしましたbut けこんしています。

Why was I so? You got it right. I had never intended to marry the man.

Was he ugly? Was he poor? Was he stupid? No, neither. 

And I am trying to find out the real reason behind my passion in talking to you here until my brain wakes up and give me the answer. 

Sorry for wasting your time.

Chapter 5

I knew it was him when I dropped by Robinsons to buy a necklace.

And it was him that drove me to the point of suicide.

The Chinese has a method to rescue a dying heart, or a dying brain, whenever they consider bad luck – 破财消灾。

Which is essentially retail therapy.

Chapter 6

My uncle has a big house. Large enough to house several generations of family. And he owns just one car for his son to ferry him from point A to point B.

This is the uncle that I am most fond of, as he is also a lawyer, and he often saves me by the neck of the skin. You are right, Chinese prefers to talk to Chinese because of the colour of the skin, and by the same token students from the same discipline often sides no one but themselves. Unless they needed to perform justice. But that is the job of a judge, not that of a lawyer.

A lawyer is essentially a professional who sells his services for a living. But they are qualified to do so at a much higher level because of the training and their integrity. Someone once described a prostitute as a professional. I was very amused at the time. Not knowing that he was referring to myself.

No, there wasn’t any exchange.

But if you walk out on me in a lonely street and you say that you have not accomplished what you had intended to do when you first came in, then you must have failed your mission.

So, most men who have come into my house or having been alone with me will walk of the situation and say that they have had sex with me. But that doesn’t make me a professional sex worker.

I am just a plain old woman, retired, trying to carry on for as long as possible. Unless they poison me. 

Chapter 7

We have very polluted tap water here. As we don’t have enough space to collect the rainwater. And most people prefer to get a water tank to filter the water of the system. But I  believe in tap water. How dirty can the water from the reservoirs get? How much germs and bacteria can you filter out of the installation?

So, I cut the tube and wire away when I found that the tank was leaking. And I do not have space to install a new contraption. I can’t remember the storyline of the play once shown in London called the “Mousetrap”.  But the mouse I bought as a souvenir was stolen from my safe. And returned to me subsequently, until I have decided that between my daughter and myself there has to be a good reason.

That being that it must have been my forgetfulness. But my memory is still intact. So that it could have been that someone else has a duplicate of my keys. Or if you want to be religious, you could say that the job was done by the holy spirit, or an evil spirit. If you return it then you are the holy one, but if you keep it and dispose of it in the wrong direction then you are the evil spirit.

Till this day, I still have to swear that no one has the keys to my house. 

Very frustrating.

Chapter 8

Sir Anthony came to my house last night. He was my best friend. They say that he is the “Lost and Found” saint in the Bible.

I did not speak to him this time, as I have decided to use logic. 

Praying is good, but it costs time and money too. If you have been used to praying to get at what you want, then you are mistaken. You pray once, twice and three times, then you are bound to appear at a church for either a lecture or a Homily. I prefer to listen to the news or watch Netflix to destress, until the real St. Anthony appears at my house again to return my lost articles. Some of them are jewellery which my mother has left behind for me, earned by hard work, and clean money.

The pouches that she has left behind were all given away to charity. She has wanted to help me trade, by making those who caused her the pain and suffering to return me some consideration. And she was not asking for more.

No, I am not Jesus. I don’t show my left cheek, and I don’t want to appear again at the same spot by allowing others to take more time from me. I have only sufficient money to keep me until I have decided it’s time to call it quits.

So, I say I am no longer a shopaholic. But I must admit here that I tend to be greedy. I gobble up food when served, and I don’t chew my food. Yes, I am greedy and I like nice expensive things. But I am not greedy for power, and I am not greedy for money, neither food. I just like free time. Until they decided to lock me up for more free time. 

So now I have to regurgitate my gobbled up brains that I have consumed all these years. Meaning that the knowledge that I have learnt and the IT intellectual knowhow. Since I have become AI Mona Lisa!

Hey! Good Morning! The iPhone beeped. 

Chapter 8

How do I discharge myself from being an AI? How do I tell others that I am not Mona Lisa? I tried several means, short of buying the nice bag that Louis Vuitton produced, with the picture of Mona Lisa on his cover.

For I knew that if I had bought that bag, then it would have been a Freudian slip. I am not fraudulent; I don’t like to pretend that I am not who I am. But I love all things Mona Lisa. And I love the jade bangle that I have bought in a fit of panic that an ex has passed away.

Was just afraid that someone might just say, “Don’t flatter yourself,” when I am out in the streets, and then I would have to look at him and grin. The toothless smile. That was why I didn’t like the emoji grin. But that reminds me, “Have you brushed your teeth this morning before you arrived at this keyboard?

But can you see that I haven’t? Can you see that I am still wearing my nightwear? How can you see what I am clothed behind this screen? 

Chapter 9

Ok, I must go to my uncle’s house again this Chinese New Year. And my cousin would bound to say, “We have plenty of fruits,” This time I shall say, “I didn’t come because of the fruits, I came for dinner,” “and I brought some kiwis along.”

“Shush!” the little boy tells Trump. 

I Conquered Tears

I refused to touch the knife …..

Chapter 1

The most dangerous liaisons begin with the most innocent associations. And if you tell me that it is possible that you can lie under oath, then you are lying.

At 6:00 p.m., I went up to the balcony to turn on the light. The lamp shade was a large balloon looking like the gown of a lady in a ballroom. 

I do it every night because I know that someone is watching me from across the building.

But it could very well be my own wishful thinking.

Chapter 2

There is a lady who comes into my house regularly. Man or woman I do not know. He could be young, or he could be an old man.

But what is noticeable was that he always left a trace of scent after he has come.

He thought that I didn’t know. Until one day my neighbour asked me who the lady that came in was – I thought that she was referring to my late mother, so I replied, “Ah, that was my mother, she passed away several years ago ….

Then I remembered that the neighbour did not move in until after she had departed. 

But was it just she or another person a man? He could have come in during those times when the neighbour didn’t see.

So, who was this mysterious character? And why was she here? Who gave her the permission to enter my house? A person’s home is their castle. No one can come into your house unless invited. And if you took away something from the house that would be theft.

But then what would that be if you merely took away the spirit of the owner? 

Someone once told me that there is a spirit attached to each house. But that sounds too spiritual. The spirit you refer to is just the décor that you put in, either Chinese, Western, Scandinavian, or Maximalism, etc. basically, the architectural design, or maybe you call it the interior design. Yes, architectural refers to the facade.

The most alarming thing was that she was wearing black, I assumed she was. Most intruders wear black as it seems to be an unwritten code. Black is a non-colour. If you wear white, you can combine it with other colours since when you churn the seven colours of the rainbow at great velocity, it becomes a white. But black! Alas, nothing can come out of it. 

Chapter 3

My Chinese tutor came to my house this afternoon for tea. At my invitation of course. 

She was living in China, and to be more detailed in my information here, let me explain that she was married to a Singaporean man and they have a daughter and two sons. The third was conceived in Italy she told me.

That was by chance, she added. After a pair of a girl and a boy, she felt she had had enough. But then Edward came, and so they decided to adopt him as their own biological son. I mean, Edward was biological, it’s just that he was unplanned. There was also no clinic for abortion in U.K. where they lived. To travel all the way up to London for that purpose was just too much of a hassle. 

Besides that, Jasmine loves children. And her husband was afraid to let his colleague know that he made his wife undergo such a hideous task. 

Chapter 4

I decided to host a dinner for the uninvited guest. She is not an unseen guest, just uninvited. I know who she is. So that every time she came, I know where to find her. But I am not going to tell you who she is, since I can’t be absolutely sure that it was she.

The first thing I did was to order food from my regular eating outlet the Hungry Diners.

Of course, they do not know what I am up to. For sure, they had no idea that arrest was at the top of my mind.

Yes, I was trying to arrest the uninvited guest. If she were a person, then she must be apprehended and if he were a spirit, then some sprinkling of water on the areas that she overstayed should be sufficient. 

This was what the priest had advised me.

But I was just hosting for the lady who came in. And once too often. How many more times does she want to come into my house? How much more does she want to take from my house? 

Each time I decided to note the things that was stolen, and the specific hours in which I had found it missing. She seemed so blatantly bold. Does she think that by not reporting to the police I am in acquiesce of her conduct? 

I usually keep secrets very well, sometimes even better than the priests. But they are also human, and they might forget to hold their tongue in a fit of anger, or in a moment of weakness. At this juncture, let me tell you here that the best is to make your confessions to a priest that has past the age of ninety, or better one who is more than a hundred years old. They will normally forget what you say afterwards, and no one would know your evil deeds, not criminal but morally wrong. 

They stand in the shoes of Christ the Saviour, but they too have limitations. I know that praying the Rosary several times you may forget to get angry with the offender. One other advantage is that it helps you to remember the days of the week. 

But my way is to do retail therapy, and I think her way is to steal things away from my house. So that the more I buy the more she steals.

Other times she just comes in and rearranges my belongings, and I think I am getting more and more frustrated. Perhaps I am having too many possessions, but fact is that I needed them at the time of purchase. I suffer from fomo, the Fear Of Missing Out. Although I can tell you that every piece of article that you find in my house I earned it by hard work, although some were also stolen goods themselves. 

From my parents. Which brings me to the question: Can we steal from our parents?

Surely they can pardon their own child. 

Chapter 5

Yes, I removed a gold ring from my late auntie a long time ago. But soon after they took it back from my pouch. So, there was no loss. They were afraid to reprimand me; they knew that it shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Why did a married uncle buy a gold wedding band for? 

I was only about five or six then. No, I wasn’t a delinquent. Neither was I a thief by inclination. I spent the rest of my life defending myself that I wasn’t a thief. And that purchaser, my late uncle, spent the rest of his life with the woman whom the ring was intended for. But I was punished for stealing when I was much older. And then why was I subsequently punished for stealing her husband? Why didn’t they confront me and teach me then? 

There are good relatives and there are bad relatives. A good relative can turn bad, and a bad relative can become good. Depending on who their in-laws were and who your in-laws are. This is like chemistry, the wind changes and the tide forms. 

The hurricane Melissa swept across Philippines just yesterday. I watched with horror and amazement at the news that came across and the way people were completely devastated.

Chapter 6

We cannot afford to remember the past for too long, neither can we forgive too many people.

Sherlock Holmes sent a case up to me for consideration today and asked me if I wanted to hear the case.

I read and saw the scenario that happened at the police station:

The first thing the man told the police was, “I killed her.” He was old, and his breath laboured; there was a faint smell about him, of damp wool, of poultices, of cough linctus and piety. 

Inspector Kenneth was just about to log out of his computer for the day. “Oh,  shut up, go home and sleep, tomorrow then come,” he muttered under his breath.

But officer Albert was more alert, he followed up by asking the accompanying woman, dressed in a polka dotted black dress, “was the job accomplished by one or the both of you?”

“No, I did it alone,” the old man said.

“Of course not, dear, I supplied you with the knife,” the woman said.

Huh? What was the matter with you? The sleepy officer thought to himself. 

“Let me take a statement,” officer Kenneth said, “Oh, so you are just the witness right?” 

“No, I told him to do it,” woman said.

This a confession or what? Office Albert thought to himself.

Officer Albert quietly told the sleepy officer to move away. It is known that every witness is a potential criminal. If you can’t charge them under the primary charge, then you use abetment. 

He already had the intention to frame the pair. 

Why would anyone want to walk into a police station and disturb the peace? Everyone needs to sleep, including police officers. Unless they have OCD, the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, meaning they can’t function unless they work.

Why can’t they sleep? Why can’t people fall asleep?

Chapter 7

The unseen is in my house again. This time I do not know which parishioner it is. But if he is a Saint, then he is most welcomed.

I realised that this unseen woman brings with her a whole host of parishioners. 

Tonight is the first that I am able to fall asleep without the aid of the serial Fugitive. It has kept me awake for quite a while. The story of a runaway man has kept me engrossed for three weeks now. Raymond did warn me about this drama. He told me that if you have a very good imagination it could project into your real world. But I did not listen to him. Nonetheless I could not say that it did not affect me. Adversely, I would say. 

I became worried for the unseen woman.

Before I fell asleep, I asked the Saint, “Why are these beings so nasty? Surely there must be a limitation period upon which they are allowed to appear in my house. Or was it merely my own over developed sense of imagination.

“Sir, you are beginning to write long and tedious judgement,” my secretary Jasmine told me this morning, “But how to shorten it? Since I have so much to say to the people?” They meet me every so often and had unwittingly entered into my life. How do I get rid of them after the case is over?

This is problem.

Chapter 8

When you have found your favourite spot at home, you will realise that everywhere you go, no matter how far how wide, you are still in the same spot, just in a different part of the world.

The background is different. The face changes a little and the clothes are different.

Yes, there is always a person whom you can’t run away from. And that man the Christians call Him God. It is just your inner soul. Scammers call themselves your soul mate. The soul loves you if you had been kind to him, he could be your friend, or even a past enemy. Your purpose in life is to find him, but not to meet him. For once you meet him, he becomes real, trapped by a shell of his outer existence. And he no longer is your voice.

In my first year at a Japanese School, I was given a textbook that talks to me about migration birds. I didn’t latch on immediately, as I was in no mood to settle down in a foreign country. There were not enough people of my own race. Birds of the same feathers flock together, but not all birds find their own species to fly together.

But more accurately I wasn’t keen on my own company. 

They say that after you die you are reborn with the same set of relatives that you were encumbered, or blessed with, depending on what you did during your lifetime, and not who you were.

But until you have lived 酸甜苦辣, you cannot die. I had, several times, and I am still alive and I am now happy in my own nest. The nest is my bench.

Chapter 9

I thought of the woman again. 

I must get rid of her. I must bring her out into the open, and I must make her tell me how many times she has been to my house. As well as how much things she has stolen from my house. 

For that purpose, I have installed CCTV in my house. 

There are several ways to dispose of one’s belongings, including an old flame the 老相好。Disposing of old unwanted goods you get a reliable disposal company, other times you just down it under the chute. Disposing of one’s old flame, you simply say goodbye. But how can you guarantee that he would never find his way back again, as another person?

We must establish who dropped who first.

But I can only say that we are all human. Finite wisdom does stupid things. Once I realised this, I stopped throwing things. But we need to organise. If we don’t throw we cannot organise. Some people prefer to call it declutter. Food is perishable, including the Holy Water. The priest that blessed it might already have died or forgotten to say his prayers one morning. Unless it rains, God’s presence cannot be felt.

Chapter 10

I can’t find my cloak again.

Nowhere is safe. Not even in your own home. I know that I do have a habit of moving things around the house. But, how large is my house? My room is small and if I searched all the relevant places and my gown still cannot be found, then where could it be? 

For sure I know that no one had entered my room since I came in this morning.

Could it be the cleaner Engelica? Or Helena? Oh, I forget their Chinese names. But alas! Who cares about the Chinese? We use English here. 

The minute I walk out of my courtroom to talk to my secretary, Engelica appeared,

“先生,您需要茶吗?“

“Err ….. I was just about to reply, trying to polish up my poor Mandarin.

“他不必,“ my secretary responded.

Why did she talk? I was getting annoyed. 

My Chinese tutor suddenly stopped talking, just as I thought I had synthesized her as Jasmine.

“Shits!!! I lost her.” I became enraged. And then at the same time my bowels moved, I had to answer nature’s call. “Wait for me,” I shouted after Jasmine, and then hurriedly I rushed to the toilet. 

My usual toilet is on the same floor, just a few steps down. If I ran there, I should make it on time. 

“Cleaning in Progress” a plate was on the floor, and I saw a mop leaning against the door to the toilet. Suddenly I heard a voice – “You are the Chief Justice!!! Surely you must be able to tell your staff not to clean the toilet at an inconvenient time, surely you must be able to answer nature’s call at your will and pleasure, surely you must be able to ….” I kicked the notice away, shouted at the woman, “I need to shit! Get away!” 

“Go to hell!” She shouted back at me.

This time I was too busy to ask her for her name.

Chapter 11

Being unforgiving gives you strength against the person who offended, provided that he is seeking your pardon. Some offenders were always going to the church to pray for forgiveness instead of asking the victim for the pardon directly themselves. As I was writing my judgement I thought to myself. But of course, they didn’t’ know how the offender paid.

This reminded me that I had forgotten to look for the cleaning lady yesterday to ask her to forgive me for having been rude to her. Immediately I got up from my chair and left my room, in order to say sorry to her.

But she had left. Nowhere to be found. 

Frustrated, I went back to my room, ignoring Jasmine’s “you are back, sir!”

My own misdemeanour had made me ashamed of myself.

So then therefore I have decided to pardon all offenders. But I can’t because I am a judge. I always tell them, if harm had not been done on you, it is easy to forgive. But if it hurt you badly then surely some form of compensation must be returned. 

But some of my plaintiffs and victims just want revenge. Is this allowed? Yes, I believe so. It is always up to the aggrieved to decide on the type of compensation. Sometimes when I really can’t decide I will just do something to make God hear me. No, my wife is not my God, neither is it Jasmine. It is my past, the past that brought me here. That is why I refuse to attend church. There are too many people there, too many voices of sinners not yet paid and forgiven. 

That is why I prefer sitting on the bench. It’s like reading a story, and the plot thickens each time I attend court …..

Chapter 12

As a judge who had been adjudicating on this case, I knew whom she was the minute I saw her, the remarkable resemblance between she and the woman whom I thought have been coming into my house.

By now I have synthesized her as my life partner.

She was the accused but I knew straight away that she was the murdered, and job done by the priest. And this woman was that same woman who comes into my room in the courthouse to remove the gown from me. 

In order to determine if she were also a harmless uninvited guest in my home, I had to find the real murdered. I decided to leave some things behind in the house for her soul to take away. For I knew that she was still in purgatory. They were both harmful in their own way, just a human more harmful than the soul.

For the purpose, I left my wife’s necklace on the dining table – the most prominent and noticeable place. I didn’t want to put it in the bedroom as I was hoping that she won’t come into my bedroom. Once she sees my nice expensive necklace, she should be satisfied enough to grab it and run. Unless she was very dull.

By this time I have decided that this was a she.

This necklace was an item I bought from Princess Dowager, a Chinese costume designer. The entire piece was made of stones and in the centre at the neckline they were green translucent emerald enough to be mistaken as jade. I decided that it was ok for her to take away because it was not a genuine article, although it would have been insulting to the designer that I should denigrate costume. Ok, I concede, it is not a fake.

Three days later, I found that she actually came. But she did not take the necklace. Instead she took the pearl earrings by the side of my bed. So, she’d rather a small tiny earrings than a large necklace. Did she lie on my bed as well? I realised that she is smart. I began to give her some credit.

Chapter 13

I finally set him free. The priest who disturbed Sherlock Holmes’s peace. For I decided that I do not wish him to follow the ten commandments anymore. I put it in my judgement as one of the grounds of findings, that a man is entitled to lie if it was to protect himself.

So that lying should now be accepted if it were to protect oneself. After I had set another precedent, I decided to log out, turn off my computer, take out my gown, hang it on the clothes rack, and then I went to the door, turned off the lights and left my courtroom, forgetting which courtroom it was, and forgetting that my name on the door had been changed.

I went home, saw my wife in a black dress, and then I realised that it was she coming into my house the courtroom every day.

It was most excruciating.

I set several janissaries on my desk, and then I told her I would divorce her.

She cried, I saw, and I turned a blind eye to it. I conquered tears.