WHO doesn’t like to win a gold medal? I wouldn’t be the one to raise my hand to this question, and I suspect no one in class would either. We all love gold medals, we all love to be the top scorer in class, we love A (or even better, A*). Best, fastest, smartest, brightest. We live for such superlatives. Not everyone, however, can be all these, except Meghan Khoo. She’s so far out there no one can catch her—on the track and the gym floor, even in her studies. Continue reading
BEN and Jerry’s strawberry cheesecake ice-cream tastes better in a porcelain bowl, especially if it’s the glossy kind. Melamine bowls tend to melt the ice cream much faster. Besides, if you really wanted to enjoy your ice-cream, why not go all out? Which was exactly what I did one morning over the December holidays.
I picked the choicest bowl, the prettiest one in the kitchen cabinet. And since it has hardly ever been touched, I gave it a rinse, then a quick dry with two sheets of tissue. Blame it on the tissue or blame it on my fingers, the bowl slipped right out of my hands. As if in slow motion, Continue reading
HOMEWORK is generally no fun, unless there is some game involved. There is this one assessment book where you get to solve a sum in stages by playing a puzzle at each step. Homework from school is hardly ever like that. It is boring, plain boring.
So when it comes to homework, my approach is usually this: Do it quickly and be done with it. Continue reading
IF you were a primary school student, you’d likely prefer bright, sunny days. Essays look better with the sun, rather than the rain or the clouds. I, on the other hand, prefer rainy days. The temperature is more agreeable and the bed cozier.
The only time the rain is rotten is when you slip and fall and fracture your foot. That’s when you just want to say: “Rain, rain, go away, please don’t show up on my birthday!” Continue reading
WEDNESDAY is the happiest day of the week for Hsien Wei. He gets home at 2pm, instead of the usual 4pm, sometimes even 5pm. Last Wednesday, however, was not a happy day, far from it. The last anyone saw him conscious was Uncle Wan and his five-year-old granddaughter, Jenny, his neighbors four doors away. They waved hello and goodbye to him just by the playground beside their Jurong East home at Block 421.
Hsien Wei, as usual, was walking briskly, excited at the prospect of a quick lunch and then a few rounds of “League of Legends.” Just as he was about to step into the void deck, a bottle came crashing down on him. He collapsed, his left cheek pressed against the ground and his neck whipped grotesquely backwards. His arms were sprawled out and his backpack weighed down on his crumpled body. Continue reading