Clippings

I file these notes by how I reached them — on foot, on the bus, or without leaving the flat. It is an imperfect system, but it matches the way my weeks actually run up the slope from Toh Yi Drive.

The full shelf — walked, by bus, or from the flat.

Walked to it

3 May 2026

Four Steps Up to the Market

The wet-market staircase on an ordinary weekday morning.

8 March 2026

Along the Old Line

A rail-corridor walk towards Beauty World on a windy afternoon.

22 January 2026

The Cup Before the Climb

Kopi at the coffee shop up the slope, before the hill begins.

12 November 2025

From Where I Was Standing

A night near Chin Swee Road, seen from the edge of the light.

Took the bus

19 April 2026

The Bus Has to Climb

The bus that climbs the hill, and the patience it asks for.

Never left the flat

28 July 2026

The Ledge in November

A plant on the corridor ledge that refuses to die quietly.

14 June 2026

A Window That Needs Cleaning

An afternoon habit at the kitchen table, with the hill outside.

The afternoon light on Toh Yi Drive has its own habit of arriving late, slanting across the corridor tiles after the hill has already taken the sun. I notice these small shifts because I live with them — the lift that smells of rain, the tree shade by the car park, the folded receipt I keep inside a notebook on the kitchen table. None of this is news; it is only the texture of an ordinary week above Beauty World, written down before I forget the order of things.

The afternoon light on Toh Yi Drive has its own habit of arriving late, slanting across the corridor tiles after the hill has already taken the sun. I notice these small shifts because I live with them — the lift that smells of rain, the tree shade by the car park, the folded receipt I keep inside a notebook on the kitchen table. None of this is news; it is only the texture of an ordinary week above Beauty World, written down before I forget the order of things.