. “How very queer,” said Mrs. Duck to Mr. Bunny. “I thought Snow White was a myth. A Fairy Tale. Something old drakes would tell the young ducklings. Whoever heard of a princess spending her buoyant and bosomy hours with seven swarthy, sweaty dwarves in a cave dark and dank? Unthinkable. Scandalous.” “Well,” replied Mr. …
. They say Christmas is for children, don’t they? Fortunately for us, no one ever specified an age limit. We are kids again, waiting for Santa and gifts and kisses underneath the mistletoe. The turkey is perfect this year, cooked to perfection and carved with surgical precision. Guests that arrive gather around the dinner table, …
You’ve been invited. To an exclusive soirée. Behave. We know how it will all end, of course. Everything falls apart, it’s the thing these days. So I begin to gently decline when she informs me it wasn’t a request. You’ve been invited. You will come. And in the pause, in the alarming silence, there hangs …
This used to be easier, I think. Dinner with friends, a night out in town. Life doesn’t revolve around your apartment, they tell me. And indeed it doesn’t. Not when it was simply mine. Things change, though. It’s our apartment now, and our life is built on its firmaments, this little place we call home. …
Part I. Arrivals . I love airports. They are the nexus between worlds, the centres where ley-lines of travel and commerce meet. (Whyfore then do we have ‘business’ class and ‘economy’ class if not for this? Money travels exceptionally well.) Airports are also a waiting place, for us to renew friendships and family ties. …
It’s been more than eight months since I first posted about my new apartment (now not so new lah). I had just moved in at that point, and ecstatic to finally have a place of my own — just for me, me, me, me, ME. Plans were afoot for a housewarming (mostly by friends and …
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.