Dear Yuri,
Red streaks across the sky this evening. Watching it from my gate, my toes miss the sea waves. I wish I could send this glorious sunset to that boy across the globe, where grey looms over his apartment.
My neighbour’s cats are fighting again. Locked in a cage, they are forced to commune all day. No more roaming on the streets. Just like me. An involuntary hermit. There is more consistency in meal times with family. We even pray together daily now, a congregation in a tiny cloister. I am getting used to this.
My bookshelves are finally organised. I never had time before. Now, time is on my side. Flipping old childhood books brings back buried dreams. Is it time to pick them up or is it time to finally let go?
Zero income. News of hunger flood my conscience. I start an art-poetry project, encouraging people to donate. Slow response. I will survive but what about those starving?
Creative ideas poke continuously but procrastination strikes. I reach for that bag of chips. Eyes feasting on Korean Drama. I miss Korea. Makgeolli, wildflowers and the autumn shades I have yet to witness. I miss flying. When will I get to travel again?
Yesterday marked my fifth trip to the supermarket. A battle and an adventure. Paranoia raged every time I came home. Disinfected every single thing with Dettol or alcohol wipes. What if I caught something and passed it on to my vulnerable elders?
The lady next door gives us a melon from her garden. I reciprocate. Cheesecake and kueh sepit for her Eid celebration this weekend. I hope she stays safe in her kampung.
My mung beans are sprouting fast in the pitch black kettle. A new hobby. Will I bloom in the dark too?
I shall wait.