“The newspaper says rain will come tomorrow, but then tomorrow it will say the next day. Always tomorrow, tomorrow; never today.” Auntie Williams is lying on her bed and we are chatting idly.
The creases in my body are coated with a thin film of perspiration; my cheeks are rosy from the day’s activity. My underwear feels like it has been soaked in water when I take it off, and I drink so much water it sloshes around in my stomach when I walk.
I lived more or less like this for 17 years in Singapore, didn’t I?
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