I woke up as though someone had just kissed me on the lips.

There was this feeling… this untruth of it; this lie that was bitter-sweet and profound. I opened my eyes knowing that I have been cheated. I wondered if I dreamt. And if I did, what I had dreamt about.

I brushed my teeth and rinsed with Listerine, but the taste lingered.

******

It’s a strange morning. I’ll warrant that.

For one, I was up earlier than anyone else in the house, something that doesn’t happen in most weekends. I slouched to the bathroom past an empty dining table; no TV, no morning Chinese classics from the mother, no disgruntled talk and chatter. No barks from the dogs, either. That’s really strange. It left the house in this ringing, hollowed atmosphere. Like an empty cathedral; there’s even a sort of sacredness to it. A serenity that I’m wary to trespass. So I found myself closing the doors rather softly, and consciously avoid banging something and cause a ruckus.

There were flowers by the gate, on top of the post-box.

I learned later that it was delivered over by flower vendor at the morning markets; he does it over the 1st and 15th days of the months in the Chinese calendar. The flowers are for prayers, and my dad ordered in for Tuesday. I didn’t quite know that, of course, and the sight of it on the post-box was something. Sentimental. Sad. (I may need to note that it was morning and I was sleepy).

I drove on empty streets. So empty that I didn’t see the next moving car until I turned into Taman Zamrud, and that’s about 5 minutes worth on the main road, plus traffic lights. The restaurant, though, was packed, but I got the breakfast taken away soon enough.

And it was as though things just bloomed up like a cascade of fireworks; I was the 15th car in line at the next traffic light; the newspaper stand was almost crowded; I noticed that there were probably more cars than it should heading down my neighbourhood (turned out that there was a celebration somewhere, and the guests gets invited early in the morning for whatever reason); I drove past joggers and a cyclist and a family walking down to the bus stop; my parents were awake and they were already making gentle bicker over the garden stuff.

I don’t know why, or how it did it, but it left me feeling rather lively throughout the morning.

**************

I wanted to sleep the whole afternoon away.

It was made for that. It rained, and despite a script I must tend to I felt relatively carefree and relaxed. I fell asleep for an hour, woke up thinking I slept for three (misread the clock) and bustled to try and get work done. Then I gave up and played Call of Duty in separate bursts.

Classes start tomorrow. I noted disdain from myself and several others in regards of Mr Money-moron returning as our tutor. He’s rather bad, really. Passionate, slightly, but his teachings are in shambles.

I might not be the only one saying this, but truly; this semester break feels really short.

Ah well, time for things to get back on track.

Goodnight people.