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.
I send you a text message, lamenting the horrendous crowds at the shopping malls and the always-full car parks. You have heard all of this before, of course. I let my eyes wander, taking in all the other people in the café. I observe, I make assumptions. I can’t help myself.
Eventually I tire of this sport and take out an empty journal from my bag. An early birthday gift from a friend. A bright red Moleskine, so it serves the colours of the Chinese New Year rather well. Empty pages, lined and waiting for ink, for words, for thoughts.
And so I do.
Half an hour passes, and then you text me. You are done with work and walking over. We can go home. You tell me about your day, the office gossip, the pasta and pie your colleague will be making for his visiting parents when he gets home. It starts to rain, a light shower. Not much traffic. Hooray. Your hand on my lap as I drive. I smile without turning to look at you.
We get home. Unlock the door, enter, close it behind us. Throw our bags onto the daybed. Start up our computers. Facebook. Twitter. Blog comments. And then we heard the giant roars. The wind and rain, pounding at our balcony French windows. I put the palms of my hands against the glass and feel it push me back. Thunder and lightning. Roar and roar.
We check the back balcony. Water is seeping in. You tell me it’s scary, only half-jokingly. You grab the mop and the bucket; I take it from you and get started on the quickly expanding puddle across the kitchen floor. Menial task but there is a rhythm; there is something vaguely therapeutic about this. Slop, slop, squeeze. The puddle spreads, then slowly dwindles. Slop, slop, squeeze.
Fifteen minutes later the dark sheets of grey are replaced by a more regular patter. We detect some semblance of a sunset starting in the distance. It’s beautiful, and so it is today.
Kenny Mah believes in the good in people. He has been blogging for over ten years. No, his hands aren't tired. Yet.
I bet you’re the only person who was putting thoughts into a journal at that time… the others would be using their electronic gadgets.
@jemima: You’re absolutely spot-on on that – everyone was on their iPad or their mobile phone! It’s becoming rarer and rarer to see folks actually writing stuff down onto paper.
I hope the art of writing doesn’t disappear; I have to admit my own handwriting has become abysmal of late.
Ah…
@Michelle Chin: Ah…?
Looks like all the great photography now lives on the Devil’s blog. Did you lose your trigger finger ar :p
@ciki: Haha, for now at any rate. I’m finding the words more of a pleasure these days than the pictures. Aftr all, I started this blog in order to put my thoughts down to paper; the images were always a nice bonus, not the main draw (for me at any rate).
I’m still Devil’s part-time art direction consultant… or, the nosey parker when he’s taking photos or doing post-production, in other words. Hahaha…
I was in Starbucks and was caught in a storm too! Alas, we were not fated to bump into each other…
@Jun: Ah, I guess I did leave the Starbucks before the storm started. We shall have our Starbucks date one of these days, my dear. I’m sure of it. *winks*
oooo, u’re quite fortunate u didn’t live in one of those other condos where residents complained of flying debris smashing their car windscreens & other nightmarish experiences! wonder whether the freakish weather is trying to tell us something…
@Sean: Yeah, man – thank goodness for that. The condo next nearest to ours seemed to be the worst hit.
Devil says the weather is the sign of a very fierce Water Dragon this new year…
i’m pretty sure that the ‘you’ is him this time. i remember you told me inone of your posts that you’re were not referring to him. ‘thunder and lightning, roar and roar’..that’s a good sign that the dragon is visiting..aiyah, no need to mop the floor..that’s lucky water you know..
@lena: Ah, that’s really observant of you. The “you” in my posts have a tendency to be different people, but I think that actually helps the reader relate more easily with the story, no?
Lucky water? I doubt the fallen trees in the neighbourhood would agree. *snickers*
My handwriting has seriously gone to the dogs. I think it’s only legible to myself… and sometimes I don’t even know what I’m writing.
@Paul: Classic doctor’s handwriting, no? *chuckles*
I’m guessing this is the storm that caused the many trees to bend and break. =)
It’s always nice to read your writing about normal day-to-day things.
@Michelle: Yep, same storm. Some of the debris are still by the side of the road – our city’s clean-up forces aren’t exactly the most efficient…