2007 ~ 2012 |
A NEW CAMPUS AND THE BIRTH OF SASS
merry. It is not just the newlyweds, but the elderly and
the children as well, who paint their faces in the fox’s
likeliness, as a reminder of how her tricks saved their
lives. It pleases me most to see the little foxes running
about with their joyful shrieks and games. I graduated from Monash in 2012 with a double major
in Communications and Writing. Now I’m tutoring
about film and television studies with my students.
Yet my greater passion comes from wanting to be a
writer; to revel in the way that stories are told.
Someday, they will carry on a tradition to be passed
down to cubs of their own. During the process of writing, change happens
on many different levels. You get to become the
characters you create, to see the world from their
perspectives. Writing has also made me a more
heightened observer, and I have applied these skills to
my experiences as a tutor.
The villagers tell her story from time to time, but they
take great care when they speak of me as her lover.
You see, they still argue over whether I was one of
them, or a fox like herself.
110
The hut by the village outskirts, now rebuilt and
inhabited, is the last place I visit before leaving on
my travels. To everyone else, it is just another hut:
an ordinary dwelling of sticks and straw. But this is
the place where I left my heart behind, hoping that
someday she will come to claim it back.
There is some sort of commotion going on outside the
hut. I press myself closer to the bushes, careful not
to let myself be seen. An old man stands outside the
paper screen, pointing to a bundle that stirs gently in
the summer’s breeze. “Come here and look at this!”
“What is it, my dear?” a voice calls from inside.
“A fox! Sleeping on our doorstep!”
The old man and his wife pick up the fox. They stroke
its fur, and I think back on the moment I last saw that
promising shade of tangerine. Is it her? Or maybe, the
dawn’s light has a few tricks of its own.
“We must thank the gods for bestowing this gift upon
us! And on a day such as this, too!”
The little fox does not seem to be disturbed by the
sudden talk, but merely twitches and bats its paws,
still playing in the field of dreams.
“Look at how the tail hides the corners of her face!
Does it not look like she’s trying to paint herself?”
His wife nods, smiling. “For all we know, this fox could
be gifted. I’m telling you, she could become a famous
artist someday…”
Painted Fur was first featured in 2015 as part of a
Singaporean anthology called Escape From Reality.
It was also the first time I had a short story published.
Three years later, I found this magazine as a chance to
feature my story once more. The editors came back
to me with a request – could I make it shorter?
So I returned to the story with a fresh mindset. And
there were some parts that didn’t feel like myself –
unnecessary long sentences or flowery prose. By
making several edits, I remembered an important
aspect of being a writer: embrace the need to adapt
and make some changes.