You frown at me. Another bruise. Why are you so clumsy? you ask me. Why do you keep knocking into stuff and hurting yourself in your own home? I have no answer. I do not know. The furniture are where they always have been – the chairs and the table and the bookcases. I have …
There are paper pineapples blowing in the wind, hung from the rafters. They are red mostly; some are yellow. More red: streams of Chinese characters I do not recognise line the walls. This is typical Lunar New Year decor. The colours signal celebration, reunion and prosperity to come. There is a single persistent fly that …
You stab at the pieces of salad – a lettuce leaf, a scrap of beef bacon – and you tell me about the battles you have had with your students, their teachers, the parents, the whole circus. Everyone has sky-high expectations these days, everyone wants only the best results, but no one seems to want …
There is no signal. I’m sitting in a café and I am trying to send a text message. The screen says “Message was not sent. Try again?” And so I do. Still unsuccessful. I walk outside to the open square, waving my mobile phone around till I get a signal and my text goes out. …
I’m sitting in yet another Starbucks café, after asking the guy who was already at the table, if I could take the seat opposite him. He had nodded sure, wordlessly. There are other tables, of course, with extra chairs no one bothers to ask for. We tend to avoid strangers, don’t we? Why, I wonder. …
We grow old. We all do. And as we get older, sometimes past friendships dim and dissipate. They don’t entirely disappear (though that they do, some do, one cannot predict these things, it seems) but we all know what happens. There is a distance. This is okay for there are a few friendships that still …
It isn’t dawn yet, not quite. I open my eyes, hop out of bed. (The strange new/old bed in my parents’ house, no longer my home, not really – I have outgrown it.) I brush my teeth, quickly, furiously. Shower, dress, grab my bags. No need for breakfast, I will grab it on the way, …
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.