Polite Fiction
113 pages
English

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113 pages
English

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Description

What's a girl to do? Smart, athletic and obscenely wealthy, Yuki Moh is the embodiment of girl power and looks like she's got it all. She also has an insanely possessive and protective father who wants to keep her in the family money-laundering business. Luckily for Yuki, she's got friends who owe her favours. But with her lover's mother dying from cancer and her best friend gang-raped, she's got more on her mind than freedom. Polite Fiction is about the rude reality behind the stories we tell about ourselves. Colin Cheong's latest work weaves a central story through the lives and issues of a cast of characters hiding behind their own polite fictions. Each chapter sends sanitized fairy tales back to the realm of shadows where they lie in wait - to remind us of just how much we lie.

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 01 septembre 2011
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9789814398787
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Copyright 2011 Colin Cheong
Cover art by OpalWorks Co Ltd
Published by Marshall Cavendish Editions An imprint of Marshall Cavendish International 1 New Industrial Road, Singapore 536196
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. Request for permission should be addressed to the Publisher, Marshall Cavendish International (Asia) Private Limited, 1 New Industrial Road, Singapore 536196. Tel: (65) 6213 9300, fax: (65) 6285 4871. E-mail: genrefsales@sg.marshallcavendish.com . Website: www.marshallcavendish.com/genref
The publisher makes no representation or warranties with respect to the contents of this book, and specifically disclaims any implied warranties or merchantability or fitness for any particular purpose, and shall in no events be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damage, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.
Other Marshall Cavendish Offices
Marshall Cavendish Ltd. PO Box 65829, London EC1P INY, UK Marshall Cavendish Corporation. 99 White Plains Road, Tarrytown NY 10591-9001, USA Marshall Cavendish International (Thailand) Co Ltd. 253 Asoke, 12th Flr, Sukhumvit 21 Road, Klongtoey Nua, Wattana, Bangkok 10110, Thailand Marshall Cavendish (Malaysia) Sdn Bhd, Times Subang, Lot 46, Subang Hi-Tech Industrial Park, Batu Tiga, 40000 Shah Alam, Selangor Darul Ehsan, Malaysia
Marshall Cavendish is a trademark of Times Publishing Limited
National Library Board Singapore Cataloguing in Publication Data Cheong, Colin.
Polite fiction / Colin Cheong. - Singapore : Marshall Cavendish Editions, c2011. p. cm.
eISBN : 978-981-4398-78-7
I. Title.
PR9570.S53
S823 -- dc22 OCN744263917
Printed in Singapore by Fabulous Printers Pte Ltd

for Debra
Contents
Prologue: Little Red Riding Hood
The Emperor s New Clothes
Snow White
The Little Mermaid
Sleeping Beauty
The Three Little Pigs
The Three Bears
The Clever Tailor
The Frog Prince
The Prince and the Pauper
Puss in Boots
The Tin Solider
The Little Match Girl
Cinderella
The Ugly Duckling
Epilogue: Rip Van Winkle
Little Red Riding Hood
Prologue
Her grandmother was ill. The old woman had called to tell her mother and had asked if her granddaughter could come by in the morning with some food and medicines. The mother said yes and after hanging up, went to the kitchen to prepare a few day s worth of food, packing them into containers that granny could just pop into the microwave.
The girl had heard the conversation and came into the kitchen.
Shouldn t I go to Grandma now? she asked.
No, it s late. I don t want you out there at night.
Full moon s out. It s nice and bright.
Still, it s too dangerous. Anyway, Grandma is probably asleep already and you would only be waking her up. Go in the morning, when it s light and there are people around.
There are always people around.
Not necessarily the kind you want to meet.
That was not exactly true, the girl thought. She had sneaked out of the house often at night and on some of her adventures, had met some very nice people. There was, for example, the old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children that she could barely make do with what she and her husband had saved for their retirement.
Why do you have so many children? the girl had asked the old woman. She had also been wondering, actually, how the old couple still managed to have children at their age.
They aren t ours, the old woman had explained. They are the souls of the children aborted by their mothers.
The old woman had even offered her some food, but the girl had declined politely. The family was already short of that. Still, the children seemed happy enough and asked her to play with them. Some nights, she returned to play with them and one night, they took her to the house where a small family lived.
It was a very strange house and in it lived a woodcutter and his two children. It seemed to be made of cakes and sweets and in the vegetable plot out front, the body of a burnt woman stood up like a scarecrow. The family welcomed the souls of the aborted children, who ran eagerly up the path and began to break little pieces of the house s walls to eat. The girl was shocked and tried to stop them, but the woodcutter and his children laughed.
It s fine, said the woodcutter s daughter. Our house is made up of all sorts of chocolates and cakes and sweet things. Try some!
This time, the girl did not hesitate. The woodcutter seemed a kind man and the children were well brought up. She took a small piece. It tasted good. Then, where she had broken off a piece, she watched as the wall grew back.
It s like that at our house too, said the soul of a little boy. Mum always manages to find something to feed us with, but there s nothing left over after that. But somehow, the next meal, there s food again.
It s plain, another little soul said. So we come here to Hansel and Gretel s house to get our sweets!
So no one ever need go hungry-and there s even dessert, the girl said. She said goodbye to the little souls, said goodbye to the woodcutter and his children and went further into the woods, following the sound of what seemed like a group of animals singing.
It was not far from Hansel and Gretel s. It was a well-lit house and she went to a window and peeped inside. There were animals there-a donkey, a dog, a rooster, a pig, a duck and a cat. They were singing at the top of their voices-if one could call it singing-and chugging quite a lot of beer. She was afraid. Her mother had warned her about people who drank. This must be a pub, she thought.
She turned to go, but was spotted by the cat, who gave the alarm. The animals rushed out and surrounded her and the dog gave a menacing growl.
I just heard you singing and came to see, she tried to explain.
The pig snorted. They had not had an audience in a long while. He looked her up and down. She was not bad-looking for a human. And better still, she was female.
She ll do, he said gruffly. The animals pressed in closer and made her move inside the house. They took her to a chair, made her sit down, and using teeth, beaks, claws and paws, managed to tie her loosely to the chair.
You don t leave until we re done, the pig said.
The group gathered in front of her, their eyes fixed on her, watching her every move. Someone made a shrill sound. The rest followed that pitch and they began to sing. They also danced and she could see that it was choreographed-the movements were roughly the same, as wing and forelimb movements could not really be exactly the same.
At the end of what appeared to be a set, she managed to clap since her bonds were rather loose. And the animals looked at each other in amazement.
You re our first fan! the donkey brayed. The animals cheered.
Please like us on Facebook, the dog said as he shoved a beer at her.
But who are you guys?
We re the band formerly known as the Musicians of Bremen. We re just B3 now, it means Bremen Boy Band. We had to move with the times, said the dog.
Besides, just like human boy bands, we can t actually play instruments, added the duck.
So she went often to their concerts after that, bringing along with her the woodcutter and his family, as well as the little souls.
And so, for the girl, night time did not seem like such a dangerous time to be in the woods between her house and Grandma s. The Last Bar was actually half-way to Grandma s house. She had not been further than the bar at night, but the night was bright and she was sure that if she were afraid, the little souls or the animals might walk a bit with her. They had even told her about the others who lived in the woods, like the boy named Dick who had a very smart cat, the big old lady goose, Old Mother Hubbard and her pit bull... all said, it seemed like a very nice neighbourhood.
All the wicked witches, evil stepmothers-every one of them- had been taken care of earlier, many of them put away by the community watch patrol of woodcutters. There was just one villain they had never caught-the Big Bad Wolf. He had killed a whole family of dwarfs-all seven of them. A family of pigs had claimed they had killed the wolf, but they could not produce an identifiable body. Mother Goose had decided that the body had been stewed beyond recognition, and that was that. The forest folk had never heard from the pigs again and reckoned they were just too ashamed about trying to claim credit unfairly.
So, concerned for her grandmother, and not unduly worried about her own safety, the girl put on her hooded jacket, packed the food and medicines into a rucksack and quietly left the house by the kitchen door. When she stepped out into the night, it was chilly and it was not as bright as she thought it would be. She looked for the moon-it was nowhere in sight. Clouds, she thought. It s supposed to be a full moon. It should be nearly as bright as day.
Nothing seemed usual that night. The moon was hidden and so were the people who lived in the woods. She passed the shoe house but saw no one at play. Instead she heard only the wind that seemed to sing, go home, go home, go home.
She pulled her hood up-winter was approaching and it was cold-and pressed on. She knew the woods and knew that she could run fast. She was not afraid, though she really wished her friends were up and about. Even the scarecrow corpse seemed to whisper go home as she passed the house. She looked behind her at the corpse as she passed and almost tripped over a gingerbread man.
Little Red Riding Hood, he said. What are you doing here?
In the dark, she saw them, a small patrol of gingerbread men spread out around the house of Hansel and Gretel.
On my way to my Grandma s. She s ill.
Oh dear, he said. I hope she gets bette

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