Headgame
Take a deep breath Evie and calm down. Take a look around too honey, you are exactly where you want to be: your posh apartment is well kept, your darling boy is watching telly beside you while your faithful helper is in the kitchen preparing dinner and in about twenty minutes time, your beloved husband will be coming home. Ah, the picture-perfect vision of a successful Singapore family. No, no you are not imagining this; this voice speaking to you right this second, in your head as you stare, stony-faced into the TV screen and then everywhere else for its source. I’m not really here, dear girl. See? Your kid can’t hear me. No one else can. Oh, you’re not convinced? You’ve switched off the telly and now the apartment is just the sound of what’s-her-name cutting something on the chopping board. Oh Evie, poor Evie. You’re not going crazy, I can assure you, not in the conventional sense although my speaking to you right now is hardly conventional and some folks might argue, just a little bit cuckoo. But I don’t have time for silly girl talk so I’ll make this quick. First things’ first: get rid of your servant now. Look, I don’t give a shit where she goes. Send her on an errand, I don’t care. Use your fucking imagination. Good. I really don’t want her back for at least another half hour.
