micro memoir
50 people were interested. 20 joined the race. 4 started running. I wonder how many will reach the finish line. Every challenge teaches the same lesson: enthusiasm is common, perseverance is rare.
micro memoir
On the morning she left, a glass of water came first. Seven-year-old Pei Ming carried it carefully to his mother and said softly, "Mummy, drink some water." The small act of kindness shattered Kong Xiu Ping's composure. Pulling him into a tight embrace, she
micro memoir
Every evening, my six siblings, my mother, and I waited for my father to return from his carpentry work. Only then would we begin dinner. We ate whatever was on the table. There was no such thing as refusing food or buying something else. When there was a chicken drumstick,
micro memoir
As a boy, I learned that dinner was not optional. If I was late, the cane would come looking for my butt. Its success rate was 100 percent.
micro memoir
Between our kampong house and the coffee shop was a 200-metre unlit path. Whenever my mother sent me on an errand at night, I dreaded the journey. There was a wooden bridge over a longkang and an old attap house beside it, surrounded by banana trees. After hearing too
micro memoir
My first best friend in secondary school was a very quiet student, much like me. He was a person of few words and rarely mingled with anyone. We enjoyed each other's silent company and often sat together without saying much. One day, he told me he did not
micro memoir
Our family shared a single bicycle. It stood outside our kampong house, leaning against a wooden post. When I was about twelve, I decided I would learn to ride it. The bicycle was too big for me. When one pedal reached the bottom, my foot could barely touch it. I
micro memoir
In Primary 6, my teacher, Mr Tan Ngiat Lian, made an unusual offer to the class. If we paid attention and did not disrupt his lessons, he would tell us a Bible story afterward. Through those stories, I was introduced to Jesus Christ for the first time as a loving
micro memoir
On windy days, the sky was filled with kites. It was the season for layang layang, or kite fighting, where children tried to cut one another's kite strings in mid-air using strings coated with crushed glass. We made our own kites from bamboo sticks, newspaper, and glue
micro memoir
Food had become bland to my father by the age of 97. Eleven months ago, his helper called to say that he was groaning in pain. My wife and I immediately took a taxi to see him. On the way, I bought a bowl of black sesame paste from Mei
Satire
One morning at the coffee shop, Ah Choo overheard a heated discussion. "The Chinese are taking over!" "No, the Indians are taking over!" "No, the rich are taking over!" "No, the foreigners are taking over!" Everyone spoke with great confidence. Ah Choo
short story
The nurse called me at 3:17 a.m. I still remember the exact time because my phone was silent, my room was dark, and my heart knew before my mind did. “Can you come to the hospital? Your mother’s condition has worsened.” I didn’t ask what happened.