The razor teeth of the combat knife passed through a rapid arc, seeking the pale flesh of the young girl's thigh. Sidestepping with the grace of a trained fighter, her hand flashed down to take the wrist of her assailant. Turning the momentum of his attack against him, she pulled him off balance and allowed him to stumble past her. In that instant, she was spinning, her leg darting up into a graceful reverse spin kick.
Cheung watched as the schoolgirl's skirt flared up around her waist, the flash of her white underwear an odd distraction from the lethal beating she was exacting on her vaguely demonic attacker. He chuckled to himself and wondered if there were any fighting games which didn't feature a Japanese schoolgirl; Jeong had probably the most exhaustive collection he knew of and every last one offered the option of playing a cute girl with kawaii super-loose socks, a plaid miniskirt and deadly fists.
He moved over to the window, feeling uneasy. Thumbing a Dunhill from a crumpled pack, he nudged the window open a little further and allowed the warm, humid city air wash over him as he searched for his lighter. He loved the smell of night in Hong Kong; no other city had quite the same atmosphere. A confusion of aromas drifted up to him from the dai pai dongs, the street hawkers selling every type of food imaginable. The cigarette smoke tasted rich and smooth as he inhaled deeply, a feeling of contentment soothing his nerves as he surveyed the street below.
Forget about the deal for now; just relax, chill out, check out the 7-Eleven girl.
Every night she went into the convenience store and every night she sat on the tall curb outside, smoking her cigarettes and drinking her Pepsi from a glass bottle. She had this cute knock-kneed way of sitting which seemed at odds with her rough-and-tumble dress sense.
Cheung contemplated walking downstairs and going over to talk to her but decided against it as he had done all the other times. She was probably more attractive as a stranger anyway.
A vibration against his hip caused him to jump and bang is head on the window frame.
'Shit!' he cried, a little too loudly, his voice echoing across the narrow street.
As he answered the call, Cheung moved away from the window. He never got to see the faint smile his accident had left on the lips of the 7-Eleven girl.
*******
'This is Cheung,'
He swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten with nerves. If this was the buyer, he couldn't afford to mess things up.
'We have a problem,' Cheung recognised Domino's voice from the chat room. 'There are... complications.'
'What d'you mean?'
'Meet me at the Wanchai Star Ferry terminal in fifteen minutes and I will explain.'
'How will I ...'
Cheung let his question tail off; she had already hung up.
Copyright © A. Flood 2010
Cheung watched as the schoolgirl's skirt flared up around her waist, the flash of her white underwear an odd distraction from the lethal beating she was exacting on her vaguely demonic attacker. He chuckled to himself and wondered if there were any fighting games which didn't feature a Japanese schoolgirl; Jeong had probably the most exhaustive collection he knew of and every last one offered the option of playing a cute girl with kawaii super-loose socks, a plaid miniskirt and deadly fists.
He moved over to the window, feeling uneasy. Thumbing a Dunhill from a crumpled pack, he nudged the window open a little further and allowed the warm, humid city air wash over him as he searched for his lighter. He loved the smell of night in Hong Kong; no other city had quite the same atmosphere. A confusion of aromas drifted up to him from the dai pai dongs, the street hawkers selling every type of food imaginable. The cigarette smoke tasted rich and smooth as he inhaled deeply, a feeling of contentment soothing his nerves as he surveyed the street below.
Forget about the deal for now; just relax, chill out, check out the 7-Eleven girl.
Every night she went into the convenience store and every night she sat on the tall curb outside, smoking her cigarettes and drinking her Pepsi from a glass bottle. She had this cute knock-kneed way of sitting which seemed at odds with her rough-and-tumble dress sense.
Cheung contemplated walking downstairs and going over to talk to her but decided against it as he had done all the other times. She was probably more attractive as a stranger anyway.
A vibration against his hip caused him to jump and bang is head on the window frame.
'Shit!' he cried, a little too loudly, his voice echoing across the narrow street.
As he answered the call, Cheung moved away from the window. He never got to see the faint smile his accident had left on the lips of the 7-Eleven girl.
*******
'This is Cheung,'
He swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten with nerves. If this was the buyer, he couldn't afford to mess things up.
'We have a problem,' Cheung recognised Domino's voice from the chat room. 'There are... complications.'
'What d'you mean?'
'Meet me at the Wanchai Star Ferry terminal in fifteen minutes and I will explain.'
'How will I ...'
Cheung let his question tail off; she had already hung up.
Copyright © A. Flood 2010
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