(no subject)
The thing about 6am is noticing everyone else alive at this ungodly hour. Trucks grumbling awake, newspaper scooters, kopitiam shutters clanging lazily upwards, and even birds out chirping, sort of. But most ubiquitous: the stretched, tired children, huddled beneath packs, with and without maids, on kerbsides waiting; in particular, the listless arrangement just outside my home - eight to ten in assorted uniforms, one and all bearing the hangdog expression of the incarcerated and condemned. Passing them I remembered J’s summary: graduation upon graduation until a desk, registers land and matrimonial, plus 1.24 reproductions.
Beep.
Beep.