View The Nude's Profile

Latest Blog Entries
The Author
About The Girls
Otto's Book Project
Boring Disclaimer
Email Otto

Malaysian Alien


Powered by: Blogger

Wednesday, February 06, 2008
The Red MG

Lina offered traditional massages and was very good with her hands. Everyone loved Lina because she was special. She not only could heal your body. She could heal your soul.

‘I didn’t want it to happen this way,’ I said, then breaking into silent tears. I drew my hand towards me face and wiped a secret tear away. I was lying on my stomach when we had the conversation. How everything breaks down after sometime and how I broke down each time. She kneaded my back, along the back of my spine. She started at my shoulder blades, slowly moving down and worked on my thighs.

‘Turn over,’ she said, lifting the towel whilst I turned around to lie on my back. She covered my breasts with a neatly folded fresh towel. I laid still, eyes closed as she oiled my hands. ‘You should find an older man,’ she said. ‘And don’t get married this year.’

I opened my right eye and looked straight at her. ‘What do you mean by “older”?’

‘Older,’ she said, then pausing for a second. ‘As in much older than you. Ten, eleven, twelve years older than you. Only an older man can understand you and allow you the freedom that you need.’

‘I am hardly going to marry someone this year, Lina,’ I said, the sighing. ‘I can hardly concentrate ten seconds on any man.’

She laughed, then she patted my head. ‘Listen to me, my child. You will feel calmer when you find that man. He is much older than you, so he will let you go and quench all the desires you have inside. A young man will never understand your needs.’

She moved her hands from the sides of my body, towards the center. ‘This is to centralize your womb. Makes you have good sex.’ I laughed when I heard that. I never knew old ladies were ever bothered about sex. ‘Oh goodness! Look at your belly button,’ she exclaimed.

I lifted my head to see the fuss surrounding my bellybutton. Is it bleeding? Is it dirty? Did I forget to wash my bloody bellybutton? I took a look closer.

‘Your bellybutton is special. Women with bellybuttons like yours make sex good for men. Tight inside. Wraps a man tightly inside,’ she said, then tapping the area surrounding my womanhood. ‘Now remember what Mak Cik Lina said. Find an older man.’


I was walking around aimlessly. Waiting, I was waiting for the cab to take me to the airport. I hate flying. I don’t know how I managed to like flying when I was younger. I must have been crazy then.

Actually, I am still crazy now. The backpack decided to slouch off my shoulders as I turned around to pace the space again. Sometimes I wished that I smoked. Then I looked normal when I pace. You see, smokers walk up and down three paces whenever they smoke and they have the most serious look on their faces. I had the serious look because I was seriously late for my check-in but I did not have the ciggie.

I hate cigarettes.


‘And what do we have here?’ His red car crept up like a cat upon a mouse. I did not hear it roll by. This is what you get for pacing up and down like a crazy homeless lady. A thousand things can happen around you but you would not have felt them one bit.

I peeped through the window. His MGB Roadster always looked exotic on the streets. ‘Who is that waiting for a cab?" He smiled when he said that.

‘Yes. I know that I am adorable, even when I am frantic,’ I said. He always had this calming smile. He pinned the cigarette at the corner of his lip, got out of the car and threw my luggage into the back. ‘Thank you, darling,’ I said as I got into the passenger seat.

Each of us has a role to play in life. His role in my life was always of the saviour. He and his red MG appear at the strangest and most difficult times in my life. It is as if he knew that I needed someone to carry me through the time and it was him who always carried me through.


‘I’ll take you for lunch,’ he declared. ‘I think you need something to fill that stomach of yours,’ he said as he poked my belly with his left index finger. He looked strange with the cigarette pursed at the corner of his lip. He looked like Popeye, the sailorman. Hey, that is quite apt seeing he sails in and out of my life.

‘No!’ I said. I crossed my arms in protest, like a spoilt child. ‘I am already late for the god-damn flight! And I don’t want to miss the flight.’

‘At this rate, you have already missed the flight. Don’t worry about it. You and I will go for some quick bite. I will get my PA to arrange a new ticket for you. Where are you going this time around?’

His car zipped down the street.


‘My whole life is like an hour on BBC World. It is frenzied with all emotions twirling and raging inside. My life is a drama and I am in a mess.’ I buried my face in my hands.

‘Oh it isn’t that bad,’ he said, then rearranging my brown locks on my shoulders. ‘You will make it through this one, like how you made it through your last one.’ Somehow his words were soothing. He soothed the pain away. And when I feared anything, he was there to sweep it all away. That was his role to play.

I told him how I got into this mess. How now I have to fly faraway to explain myself. How unhappy I am with everything despite having quite nearly everything. How I feared hurting people around me. How I wanted to be free. How I feared being alone but I could never feel comfortable with someone. I never trusted anyone more than myself. And when I fear, I flee.

He poured some tobacco on the paper. He had perfected rolling tobacco down to an art-form. Watching him craft the cigarette into existence soothed my soul. I grew silent and rested my chin in my hands. I sat entranced as he licked the edge of the paper. He lit the cigarette and drew his first smoke.

‘Now I have to go break-up with a person. I am telling you, I can’t do this anymore. My heart cannot take the heartbreaks anymore.’ I cupped my eyes with my hands. I cannot break down and cry. Not in the restaurant anyway.

He lit his cigarette and then he gave me a squeeze. 'Don't worry. I will take you there.'


I rubbed my eyes. It is 8 a.m. but it is still dark outside.



Post a Comment

<< Home