micro memoir

micro memoir

Press Conference Successfully Completed

Minister said a lot. Motherhood statements. About nothing. Full of air. Press conference successfully completed.

micro memoir

The Ride Home

This picture reminds me of the days when life felt smaller, and safer. Afternoons like this were quiet and warm. No rush. No pressure. Just the sound of wheels on the road and the feeling that everything was okay because someone steady was in front. I remember sitting there, feet

micro memoir

The Morning the Pigs Screamed

I love pork. Especially roasted pork. But before I eat, I pause. I give thanks to the pig who gave its life so that I could be fed. Behind that love is a memory that never softened. In the late 1960s, behind my kampong house, there was a small pig

micro memoir

An ordinary breakfast.

While having breakfast with my friend at Yakun, suddenly she slid the phone across the table. “My sister sent me these messages. Take a read” I hold the phone and read the message once, then again. She picked up her coffee and stirred it even though the sugar had already

micro memoir

The people I loved have left.

My eldest sister, the light bulb of our family, the one who always switched the room on. My sister-in-law, who cooked prawns so perfectly that love tasted like garlic and heat. My mother, my earthly God, who needed no altar. My father, who never said much, but made

micro memoir

The Nicest Prison Concert in Town

To bird keepers, it sounds like beautiful music drifting from a cage. To me, it feels like sitting in the audience while a singer cries for help from a prison cell.

micro memoir

Where I Feel Most Dressed

If you invite me for kopi, I am most comfortable here. Excuse the dressing. This is who I am when I am not pretending. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo

micro memoir

My organisation chart.

I became an entrepreneur for freedom. CEO: Me. Sales: Me. Cleaner: Me. Delivery: Me. Admin: Me. Now I work for the most demanding boss I’ve ever met. Me. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo

micro memoir

Regifted

Last Christmas, I gave you my book, and the very next day, You gave it away. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo

micro memoir

The Person in the Mirror

When I went looking for companionship, the person in the mirror spoke first. “Don’t forget me,” she said. “I’m still here.” So I wrapped my arms around myself. She had been waiting all along, patient and unseen. It wasn’t loneliness. It was forgetting. PS I write books

micro memoir

The Broken Crayon

I always picked the broken crayon. No one else wanted it. Just like me. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo

micro memoir

The Day I Quit

The day I quit, the air felt lighter. By evening, my stomach asked questions I couldn’t answer yet. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo