It was close to 4.00pm, hot and my air-conditioning wasn’t working. I didn’t care, I was tripping on an adrenalin high. I was on my “circuit”, and I was weaving about with my beat-up car.
I was oblivious till I saw her in my rearview mirror. Black Toyota Vios, black suit, Chinese: an Oriental Psylocke with wisps of hair trailing and waving like black flags in high wind, only in slow motion. A frown, piercing eyes and pert lips pursed in irritation, I thought. The lights were still red, and the satria I was trailing threw out a few revs in anticipation.
A quick glance in my rearviews, and I saw her don her shades. It was a trick of slow-motion, maybe a trick of the sun making its way to its own grave: she was a picture of calm as the shades went on. An explosive, orgasmic being getting primed for some action.
