The Spy Who Loved Me – Excerpt No. 6

7 September 2026

When she went down to reach it he saw that fabric ride up, but also remembered what he had been doing.

“No!” Jimmy said way louder than he intended.

He kneeled down, and immediately pressed the power to lock the device.

“Thank you,” Jimmy said.

She shrugged, looked at her screen, typed something, and then walked around him. All the while his eyes were focused on that skirt, the sight of those subtle curves brought back memories from one of his trips to Bangkok.

A busy street in Bangkok at night, illuminated by glowing vertical neon signs in Thai and English—including text for "Pork Porridge," "Pharmacy," and "Thai Massage." A thick, hazy orange fog hangs over the road, catching the warm light of overhead streetlamps, while storefronts project a distinct cyan glow across the wet pavement. Tuk-tuks, taxis with headlights cutting through the mist, and motorbikes navigate the damp asphalt, while pedestrians carrying clear umbrellas walk in the foreground. The image has a heavy film grain, softened details, and organic color bleeding, bordered by a square, weathered instant-film frame.

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.