'We Travel; We Move'

When I got on the bus today after work, I was surprised that the driver actually gave me a ticket for my fee. It is an unheard of thing, this protocol among Penang busses, for as long as I can remember. I for one do not know specifically when it was disregarded; obsolete and buried, probably amongst the very same graves which I pass by every night on the way home. The ticket is dark, almost greenish blue; printed on almost the same quality of paper which Taiping busses use. Within minutes of pocketing it, I saw in my mind the next bane of the mainland: tickets strewn everywhere, post-ride - the genesis of the concrete jungle's river channels, only to dismiss it entirely later, as it would be no silver prophecy: just 'too much thinking'. I love window seats by the way.

After dinner, I changed into my rubber slippers; the consistently hidden item within my backpack on days where vapor-like mirages can be seen arching towards the sky, seemingly from fissures or clefts too minute or uninteresting, or unnoticeable. It is the season of rain here; the afternoons and evenings are times when everything begins to submerge in heaven's trickle: it is ever sombre, this calm before the storm. My silver umbrella, though with its tip broken off (in an accident still regrettable), still functions decently enough to keep me mostly dry, all the way from the diner to this cafe here. These are good times to be staying indoors; curling up under the covers, warm and a book in hand; sleeping a rest rhythmic and dead, together.

Sometimes when it rains, I would remember times when I was younger: how I used to follow uncle Ho for swimming lessons, riding behind him on his small bicycle; how he used to cut through parts of the road high with water and I would go, "Supercarrier!" (from watching a television series with the same theme), while the water beneath us parted. Sometimes it would be this: me getting drenched as I struggled to get home from tuition classes held in town. The rain would hit so hard then that sight was a challenge, but even so, I would be peddling with all the life in me to get back home, and reach: with eyes red, and clothes heavy and dripping.

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