Trying to get used to the sounds and smells of Singapore. The chirpy morning birds. The chatty late night crickets. The soft pitter-patters of the drizzles. The English TV programmes I’ve not seen in a while. The sizzling sounds made when a vehicle drives over a puddle of water on a relatively empty road. The smells of a tropical jungle. The scent of grass, the damp fresh air in the mornings, the warm afternoon air, the chilling night breezes. The resonating sound of the fan. The deafening tick-tocks of the clock in the silent room.
This feels like home.
ching 