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short stories

A night in Penang. The end. By Brian Martin-Onraet and Tiffany Choong. (The End)

776 Tiger
Tony the tiger….I’m strong enough to walk alone.

A night in Penang. (The end.)

A short story By Brian Martin-Onraet and illustrated by Tiffany Choong.

Previously on “A night in Penang”: Felicity the flamingo, Gary the gecko and Sock the Gremlin have asked for Stéphanie Lung’s help to free their friends abducted by animal smugglers. Their first stop was to liberate Twiggy the giraffe and Tony the vegetarian tiger. As a guard came shouting they all fled to the street.…

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A night in Penang. By Brian Martin-Onraet and Tiffany Choong.

6. Penang door 5
Old Penang doors

A night in Penang.

By Brian Martin-Onraet and illustrated by Tiffany Choong.

“They will die if we do nothing,” Felicity said, pacing on the crazy pavement by the pool.

“Felicity, tokek,” Gary said, “please stop pacing, tokek, you’re driving me crazy, tokek.”

“Gary,” Felicity said, “stop with your tokek, it is driving ME crazy.”

“Sorry, Fel’, it’s a tokek, I mean, a tick. Tokek. I agree with you, tokek, they will die, but what can we do? We’re helpless. Tokek.”

Felicity said nothing. Kept pacing around the swimming pool. Looked up at Bulan, the Moon, in full splendour in the starry Penang night. She stopped. Looked at the pool. Then at Bulan again, looked at Gary. Started pacing again.

The fault lies not in our stars,” she said, “but in ourselves *. WE have to find a solution. Sock? Any thoughts?”

“Gan’t garely greathe, let alone think,” Sock said.

“Take your bl..dy mask off, for Pete’s sake,” Felicity said. Sock removed his mask. Coughed and said: “It’s the forest fires, the air is… choking. Cough, cough!”

“What a lot!” Felicity said. “I repeat: Our. Friends. Will. Die…”

“If we do nothing. Tokek. We know. Tokek. What do you suggest Fel’?”

Felicity stood still. Looked up at Bulan again.

“I know! I know! There is a solution! Stéphanie! She can help us!”

“The little girl?” Sock said. “But, but…”

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Breakfast in Istanbul. The end.

The final chapter to Breakfast in Istanbul by Brian Martin-Onraet.


“What is that Daddy? A dragon?”

“Yes, Tiffany, it is the family dragon. It‘s been in the family for more than a hundred years.”

“That’s what Lung means, right, Daddy? Dragon? I even know how to write it!”

“Very well, Tiffany. Show me.”

I stuck my tongue between my teeth. Took my time and proudly wrote:


“Very good Tiffany. Now that is the simplified version for Dragon. Next time, you will try the classical form. Here, let me show you.” He took a small brush out of a drawer, a bottle of black ink that always sat on his desk and wrote in a few,swift, elegant strokes, on the same piece of paper:


I have kept that piece of paper. Hoarded preciously in my treasure box. Dragons in the West are fearful creatures. For us in China, well, I’m Malaysian, but for our people in China, the Dragon is a…

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Breakfast in Istanbul. Part 2.

Breakfast in Istanbul by Brian Martin-Onraet (part 2). A must read short story inspired by my daily sketches


10 Cheong sam-A

I needed to get dressed for that party the Philosopher had invited me to. And, of course, I had nothing to wear. Please do not smile my reader friend. That is always a delicate matter. The little black dress (Oh Tiffany! Oh, Givenchy!) is of course, always a possibility. But no. Too easy. I wondered why I’d paid 40 bucks a piece for two additional suitcases to find myself with nothing to wear. So I rummaged and rummaged and found an old Cheong Sam (your typical body-hugging Chinese dress) I’d bought once for a wedding and never wore again. It made me look like a Chinese waitress. Why had I packed it still is a mystery.

Yet here was the solution for this intellectual party the Philosopher was throwing. I took a pair of scissors and sewing kit. A girl should never travel without a pair of scissors. I cut…

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Breakfast in Istanbul. (Part 1) By Brian Martin-Onraet and Tiffany Choong

A must read action packed fictional short story by Brian Martin-Onraet inspired by Stewart the seagull that took me to Istanbul this year. A big thank you for this. I am honoured x


1-Seagull wpid-img_20150417_164146

The seagulls glide and glide over the waters. Hundreds of them. Gliding and flying effortlessly. Catch the wind. Glide a while. Then a swift stroke of a wing and glide again. Stewart is probably up there. I can’t make him out. Too many seagulls in the air. And too many ships in the waters! Reminds me of traffic in Bangkok, Chang Mai or KL, without the motorbikes. Here, ships and boats of all size and hue cross each other at breakneck speed. Well, a few knots’ breakneck speed. They make quite a show, sounding their horns at each other. Painting the water white with their foamy trails. Ferries, tourist boats, fishing boats, one or the other Navy battle ship. Russia and the Black sea are not too far away.

Every now and then a seagull stops in mid-air, flipping its wings madly, suspended in the air, then drops into the…

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