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Dear Property Developer, could I have my ceiling fan back?
The throaty creak, rust peeking out beneath that mottled teal paint
and me, tangled in electric cord and puppeteered by the swinging blades.

To them, it never mattered how or why I came to be this marionette, only
that they caught me half-revealed by a flickering bulb in my foreman’s shack
at the mining pool’s edge. Imagine my frustration when the megamall was built—
hard to scare construction workers when you’ve kept them staring at their feet.

Last week, my wife whom you may know (she works by the highway, waiting
for gentle souls to offer help before unhinging her jaw and swallowing them whole)
reported that no one would stop for the old lady who wandered onto the road.
Sports cars like silver boulders just swerving around that unsteady silhouette,
splashing cold grey water on her like the strokes of a rattan cane. By morning
she was found on the retirement centre’s yard; no one quite understood the tale
of a snake-toothed woman cradling her and how dotted road markings look
so much like White Rabbit milk candy from up high.

As for myself? Trapped on your premises, I sprang upon a young man
working late one night and can you believe he couldn’t even speak Hakka?
He came to reset the rat traps, and when I told my wife
how he swept one bloated mother and a litter of dead pups
into his black plastic bag without a second glance or sigh,
we agreed the world was diving into a dark, incenseless exorcism.

Dear Property Developer, from one monster to another:
I’m scared. I have nowhere to hang from but your air-con unit,
and it makes me shiver all night.



Lim Jack Kin is a Malaysian poet, podcaster, and arts writer. He was previously featured in Malaysian Millennial Voices. Jack also founded and led KITA!, an arts-anthology podcast featuring poetry, short fiction, and music from local and regional artists. He tweets, sometimes a bit too much, @JackKinLim.
Current Issue
18 Mar 2024

Strange Horizons
We are very happy to welcome Dante Luiz as a new fiction editor on the team! Dante is a Ignyte Award winning author, and has been with Strange Horizons working as an Art Director for the past several years. We’re stoked to bring him on to the fiction side and have him bring his wonderful insight and skill to the fiction team.
Day in and day out, the rough waters of the Pacific slam themselves against the protrusion of sandstone the locals refer to as Morro Rock. White streaks of bird shit bleed down the rock, a testament to the rare birds of prey that nest in its pocked face overlooking the bay.
in my defence, juggling biological and artificial, i tripped over my shoelace, and spilled my lungs empty of the innocence that was, before guilt.
the birds, / who carry with them / the many names of the dead
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