“Where’s it going so fast?” Wei Jie asked.
“But not you, Ah Ma?”
“Ah Ma, why does it rain so much here?” Wei Jie asked, his mouth full of green waffle. monsoon season singapore
The rain lasted for forty-five minutes. Then, as suddenly as it started, it softened. The roar became a patter. The grey clouds tore open, and a single, blinding shaft of sunlight broke through, turning every droplet of water on every leaf, every car, every window into a tiny, glittering diamond. “Where’s it going so fast
For a moment, Lin saw the ghost of old Singapore. Beneath the HDB blocks and the MRT tracks, she saw the kampongs of her childhood, where monsoon floods meant neighbours helping neighbours move furniture to higher ground, where children swam in the roadside rivers, and where the whole world stopped for a cup of hot tea. Then, as suddenly as it started, it softened
“What does the letter say?”
They walked home on wet pavements, stepping over earthworms that had been driven from their burrows. The air was cool, washed clean. The frangipani flowers in the garden glistened, heavy with water.