Whizzing back to Southampton in the train I thought how lonely it was, and how I wished we could both go back to the same place together, and how every night would be like this night when we get back to Singapore. When at last, no matter how the moment is postponed, inevitably you will watch me climb the steps to my front door from your car, and I will feel your eyes on my back and will myself not to turn, and as I turn the keys in the lock, I will hear the roar of your engine as you leave.
“Hartley Grove, please.” “Would you like the heater on?” “Yes please, it’s such a cold night, isn’t it?” I could just about make out the familiar dark shapes of houses and shops as we drove past. Such a small town, I knew everything almost by heart already, even though I’ve only been here for five months. A taxi driver once commented that he couldn’t see any reason to leave Southampton…”What for? I’ve everything I need here.” Strangely enough, I felt an odd sense of homecoming. These roads were not the broad, brightly-lit expressways, flanked on both sides with towering HDBs, there were trees, and little houses…but also, there was that relief that I always feel when I go home. I think I’ve got a little root in this place now, I hate feeling uprooted.
1 Comment
February 21, 2006 at 8:11 pm
hello baby, you’ve got mail!