Mo Tong Lai Cha 無糖奶茶

Thank you, Brenda for a wonderful picture of the variety of street food. I can recall the smells and the atmosphere. It is a lovely photo-prompt posted by Rochelle to challenge our writing for Friday-Fictioneers. More stories are ready to be read HERE.

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

Mo Tong Lai Cha 無糖奶茶
(Tea, Milk No Sugar)

My shirt clung to my skin as I weaved down Yau San Street, and I knocked against a basket of squirming snakes. The warm aroma of peanut oil drifted among whiffs of cooking chicken; salivating, I ignored my hungry protests.
First the deal.

I saw her. Mai Ling sucking noodles, and she nodded.
‘Lai cha mo tong.’ She ordered for me. ‘Milk in tea, so British.’

I covertly slipped the passports into her bag, as a loose noodle struck her nose. 

I twitched towards the observers.
‘My bankers,’ she said. ‘Drink your tea.’

A smile, a gold tooth. Money transferred.

Married Bliss

I am amazed how the BMW in Liz Young’s photo-prompt does not appear to have any damage, considering the wall and railings are in pieces.

You can read more Friday Fictioneer’s contributions and stories here.

Photo Prompt Liz Young

Married Bliss

She drives wearing high heels, rummages in her handbag and,
at junctions, if she stops, she has to text the kids.
When we are in the car, she will nag at me.
You missed the kids’ school play and games day–-a crime in her eyes.
The traffic accident held me up. I didn’t get home until midnight.
Apparently, I never liked her Mum. Hell! the poor lady died before we met.

You are wearing the wrong shirt, and Martha will comment on it.

Who is Martha?

Enough! I screamed. I missed the brake. 

“See what I mean,” she said.