good story for viet (hcm), prc (cp), pinoy (ac) cheongsters

[khyber_pass]

dear bros .. in the above cheong scenes , u must have heard of how the gals turn to the trade because they need to support their family. hear from either wl themselves or from other bros here.

i came across this story while looking for literature to read .. and believe me, if you cheong the above, i am sure you wont be a stranger to the emotions and actions depicted by the characters in this story.

it is therapeutic to read such an honest piece of work. i hope you enjoy it. kudos to the original author and the translator.

http://www.qlrs.com/story.asp?id=941

Bewildered Love


By John Sheng




A.

When I took her home she did not say a word but the smell of wine on her left me worried that she might vomit in my car. It was now 3am in the wee hours although Kings Cross was as noisily exciting as ever. In half an hour, she would get off my car. She lived in a quiet apartment.

I worked as a chauffeur at a night club and my work involved taking those Japanese, Korean, Thai and Filipino girls home every night.

When I arrived home it was about 4 in the early morning and I was quite sleepy. After I brushed my teeth and washed my face, the girl emerged again in my memory whom I had just taken home. She was from the Philippines and her name was Imelda. She was tall, had the eyes of a film star and wore a tight-fitting black dress. I kept thinking of her till I fell into a dream before I knew it.

The next day, I went to work as usual. I began work at 9 every evening till 2 to 3am when I had to take the girls home. Occasionally, the girls had something private to do and they would get me to run errands for them. Shortly after I started work, I saw the big boss come out of the lift with Imelda. He told me to take her home first. Normally, she would sit behind me and I had hardly spoken to her before as I could see she was tired and silent. Tonight, however, she sat next to me. She did not smell of liquor but of high-class perfume. I wanted very much to talk to her, to ask her why she went home so early but just as I turned my head around I saw her fighting back her tears.

So I kept silent.

'I'll get someone to kill him,' said she in English, bursting into tears.

'Did someone bully you?'

'The animal was trying to rape me and when he did not get what he wanted he beat me.'

I did not know how to comfort her. She asked if I could give her a cigarette but I said I did not smoke. When we passed a shop I stopped and bought two packs of cigarettes for her. Shortly after, she arrived home. As she was leaving, she said she would pay me for the cigarettes. I said there was no need; it's a gift.

Around 1am that night, the girls went home early because there wasn't much business. Imelda was the last girl I was taking home. When I stopped outside her home she had a look at her watch and, all of a sudden, asked if I would like to go up and sit for a bit. She was of course being nice but I agreed.

The apartment was clean and the rent must be high, with a lot of well-to-do people in the neighborhood. Imelda shared a unit of two rooms with a Japanese girl. There was no furniture, only one bed, and all the rest of the stuff was contained in plastic bags, with several pairs of pretty shoes to the side that she wore to work. It was not till then that I made a discovery: the women who wore such alluring makeup at the nightclub were no different from single men when they returned home.

She gave me a glass of fruit juice as we sat down together on the floor of the sitting room.

'I am really sorry that there is not even a sofa,' said she.

'No worries. It's like that for many people in a foreign country.'

I asked if she felt better now and she said she felt much better. She said that such things happened on a frequent basis, and that she was used to it, it being the nature of the beast. Then, she told me her story.

I found that a woman's forte lay in her ability to tell strangers about themselves. I had met quite a few. We met for the first time and were only a few words into the conversation when they told me about themselves; a few minutes could contain much vivid experience.

'You have the eyes of a film star,' I couldn't help praising her.

She smiled and said, 'How long have you been in Sydney?'

'Nearly four years.'

'What about your family?'

'All in Shanghai.'

'Do you have a girlfriend?'

So, I told her of my love experience. I said that I had loved a few girls but I did not know why love was so hard that I had never really loved for once and one could hardly say that I had a real girlfriend.

When I said goodbye to her, I asked when she had time and if I could come back to see her again. She didn't say no. Thus, I felt at heart that something was bound to happen, like before when I had approached a girl. I didn't fall for Imelda although my heart was filled with a pitiable love for her. She was as beautiful as the girl I had loved before except that when I was in Shanghai the girls were all well educated, calculating women who knew how to control men. Imelda was nothing like that. As a woman of wind and dust, a whore, she was kind and lovely.

Before I left, I made bold to touch her on the cheek. In that moment, her eyes brightened up. A thought came to me: If I kissed her, she would probably not refuse it but I did not as I was subconsciously held from offending this woman.

I was driving alone. I found it odd that I could so easily communicate with her although she was a Filipino girl, compared with Li Jing whom I had also loved but who I had to treat with falsehood and lies. She was pretty, dissolute, vain, and ambitious, so much so that I dared not even touch her hand when I first approached her. Back then, I missed her day and night although I pretended to be cold, trying to conceal my true feelings, whenever I met her. If I touched her face with my hand I worried that she might feel I wasn't respectful enough and that she might even think I was frivolous and rude. If I did not show her that I had ambitions she might dismiss me as not enterprising enough; I was thus made to hang my head low. My dates with Li Jing were not pleasures with a loved person but were battlefields in which I tried to conceal, to engage in big vain talk, and to return home exhausted, feeling sexually repressed with no passion. It was much easier with Imelda as I was able to frankly tell her everything, to reveal my natural sentiments and to express how I felt at heart without a thought, and to even realize my impulses.

I was deeply in love with Imelda now, with her figure, her smiles, her looks and her bright eyes. For days, my memory was filled with the shape of her. In the past when I was in Shanghai, I recalled, whenever I parted company with a girlfriend, I'd keep her in my memory, keeping her company, till I met another lover. At first, there was a resistance in me against her because she was different from the one I had lost. Then I resented my former lover for having betrayed me; but for that, I would have loved her with all my body and heart till I died. Now that she had left me, I had to desire someone else to love. After a period of time in which I interacted with another person, this feeling of resistance disappeared and I gradually submitted to this new person because she was, after all, innocent and I should forget everything about the past by devoting myself to her and trying to move her. I would be moved to tears when she revealed some of her genuine feelings because I was convinced of her love and of how much love was worth.

Why did Imelda disappear all of a sudden? I did not dare think that it might have been because of me. I had a feeling that we might be able to become close friends although I was nobody, a nightclub chauffeur, compared with the rich clients she met every day. What could I do to satisfy her? I thought of her voice and her face, my heart full of hope.

One night, about a week or so after, I was lazily sitting in a van, when I saw Imelda walk towards me. I came alive and went for her.

'Are you working tonight?'

'No. I'm not going to any more. I was going to my friend's place because Yumiko my roommate is returning to Japan. So, I'll find someone else to share accommodation with me.'

'Would you like me to take you home?'

'Yes.'

On our way, I asked if she would like a smoke but she said she didn't smoke except when she felt depressed at work. I was wondering if she meant to tell me that she was quitting because she came to see me tonight. But of course I was so delighted that, gently, I took her hand in mine, her fingers thin and long, giving a strong impression of bones.

She and I went upstairs to her apartment and into a room. I looked at another room that was empty with nothing inside, giving one a feeling that the place had been vacated. Imelda and I were sitting in the empty room under the soft light. I felt that the place should be our resting place where I would like to often sit with her, chatting and drinking coffee. In fact, I had fallen in love with her although I did not know what plans she had.

'I'd love to move in so that I can see you every day.'

'All right. Do that then.'

Before I left, I touched her face again. She just smiled. There was nothing nervous about her. She did not pretend to say no. She seemed to always offer her smiles to my liberties. I offered to kiss her when she closed her eyes so naturally. I was greedy; I had desired fragrant lips for a long time. It would have been so hard and tortuous for me to take this step. I remembered that my first kiss was a stolen one. I lied about something black on the woman's

-- please continue to read from the above link. i am unable to post long messages.

Translated from the Mandarin by Ouyang Yu


QLRS Vol. 11 No. 3 Jul 2012

[jackurass]

came for nice story.