“Where’s it going so fast?” Wei Jie asked.
Inside, she hung the umbrella by the door. A small puddle formed on the tile. Wei Jie picked up his tablet, then put it down. He went to the window instead, watching the steam rise from the road. monsoon season singapore
As they reached their block, Lin paused. The drains were still gushing, but slower now. The city had survived. It had been baptised again. “Where’s it going so fast
They walked home on wet pavements, stepping over earthworms that had been driven from their burrows. The air was cool, washed clean. The frangipani flowers in the garden glistened, heavy with water. Wei Jie picked up his tablet, then put it down
Lin ordered two waffles and two cups of kopi peng —the iced coffee so thick it was almost a syrup.
“See?” Lin said, pointing to the drainage canal that ran alongside the block. It was no longer a trickle. It was a brown, frothing river, carrying a stray plastic bottle and a fallen bougainvillea branch on a frantic race towards the sea.
He groaned, but the promise of a pandan waffle from the hawker centre downstairs was enough to lure him off the sofa.