In response to Photo-Fiction #83
“Chineyyy!!! Gimme a small fried chicken fried rice!!” The man shouted over the counter despite the shop being empty except him.
I had grown accustomed to the racist slurs and the aggression of “hangry” people shouting at the child behind the counter. I had grown accustomed to the smell of garlic and grease as I toiled over the school books from which I was constantly interrupted.
“One small fried chicken fried rice,” I shouted in mandarin over my shoulder. My mother shouted back from the kitchen. “I’m fine, just trying to finish my homework before the dinner rush.” All in mandarin.
The man eyed me suspiciously, and I ignored him. It was him or someone like him, every day, gawking through the white painted iron bars. I thought nothing of it. Nothing at all until a red glow seeped into my peripheral vision. Nothing until a low growl registered in my hearing. Until the world went crazy as a flurry of fur, claws, and teeth raged against the iron bars. The bars moaning as they bent towards me. The heat of his breath and spittle, on my cheeks as the give in the bars let him get within swiping distance.
It felt like nausea, as I stood there frozen, in fear or terror. It felt like bile rising in my throat. It burned and then it exploded from my lips, blue-white flames that engulfed the thing that used to be the man that ordered a small fried chicken fried rice.
It cried and ran, a streak of burning fur, disappearing into the darkness. Before my mind could panic, the melody of my mother’s stories came back, stories of a proud people, a land of dwindling magic, of an exodus, fleeing progress. I heard fairytales. I heard my truth.
It’s amazing the kinds of things you find yourself reading when researching a book. For me to really become comfortable with the concept of coming out of the closet, something my main character has to do, I began reading coming out stories. I’ve read about a million of them I swear, and honestly, I can relate.
Yeah it sounds strange. How can I, a straight girl, ever understand the mental and emotional stress of having to break news to your parents, friends and family, without the assurance that they will react well?
Well I’ve had to deliver news that I knew they would react badly to. No doubt about it. And believe you me, the backlash is still coming. But you know what? I’m still alive and life keeps demonstrating how it wants me to thrive despite all the pitfalls placed in front of me.
Though I must also admit I’m a little envious of some of these stores. The ones that ended in laughs and hugs, or even a stern word for not coming forward sooner.
Do I have anyone among my readers who has a story of delivering news you weren’t sure of? How did it end? Were there hugs and laughter? Or are you like me?
Now taking a lover.
Seeking eligible male for sexual rendezvous,
must be unattached and not seeking romantic entanglement
Please forward photo and current certified STI/STD panel to:
Serious inquires only
Nope, I’m not trying to hire a gigolo, it’s an expert from my New release: Now Taking A Lover
Available on Amazon, free with Kindle unlimited.
Apparently as an Indie Author I’m going to have to learn to plug, being particularly shy it’s a very daunting idea. But as the chief so aptly put it. “You can’t publish a book and hide it.” and he’s right. So I shall plug, but not to worry, I’m not the tacky spam streaming sort. The internet is safe from me.
One of the most frequently asked Questions I get now as an Author (I can call myself that now, huh?). Is,” what comes next?”
Well what comes next for me is, What Comes After. That’s the title of my next book. Which will be a novel. I’ll share the blurb and you can tell me what you thing. Here goes.
” There is nothing easy about coming out of the closet. But Mila comes out only to find herself locked into the center of a conspiracy that has changed the culture of generations.
Will Mila be able to protect herself and her family, through What comes After?“