And so it began somewhere in between one thing and another-- like things that will always mean something to us, its’ taking form can only be seen in retrospective.
The arrival was subtle, gentle. Like the afternoon breeze.
It was an event that would’ve meant nothing to the wandering eyes, as they eyed the event unravel itself in its’ utmost delicateness. Like a hawk’s eyes missing the transformation of a caterpillar into butterfly, the owners walked on without hesitation, for such incidents have no relevance to them.
They, we call the others.
The time was 0025 +8GMT.
The silent road stall mamak witnessed a bickering between two lovers; starting with the woman in white requesting a pinch salt for her tasteless serving of food. The young boy to her left, with looks younger than his age, shook his head in disagreement, as he let out a soft sigh.
The woman, we call her Wendy.
The young boy, Peter.
The random stranger, unknown.
These three, we call them.