they wander like gold
ragas of longing
like lit sequin
on her shifting green dress

(Michael Ondaatje)

Find K, but you might regret it if you do.

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The thing about 6am is noticing everyone else alive at this ungodly hour. Trucks grumbling awake, newspaper scooters, kopitiam shutters clanging lazily upwards, and even birds out chirping, sort of. But most ubiquitous: the stretched, tired children, huddled beneath packs, with and without maids, on kerbsides waiting; in particular, the listless ( Read more... )

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