I didn't realise until L pointed it out: We've been in this new flat exactly a month. How nice, a one-month anniversary. And to celebrate, there's a pan of brownies in the oven and the house smells deliciously of chocolate. Although the brownies are for Dad, in lieu of a cake for his birthday today. We're going over to have dinner with him later.
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There's always some drama to be found on the way to work, whether glimpsed through bus windows or heard among the blocks of flats as I walk from the MRT station to the office.
There's a young lad at the basketball court, shooting hoops. Two kids are loitering by the stairs, watching him. One nudges to the other and calls out to the boy with the basketball: "We don't want to play with you."
"What?" said the boy who was clearly playing with himself.
"Stop following us." He yelled at the boy who clearly wasn't following them because he was shooting hoops by himself.
You think he'll grow up to be Chee Soon Juan?
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