A Fitful Sleep

I am talking to man; his face is not clear. He assures me that everything is alright. Behind him, a town. One of the many small towns in Malaysia I've been to. It's not clear where I am. The scene is busy though. The man is dressed in white singlet and shorts. He is neat.

I am comforted by his words as I try to assure myself that it alright to go back to sleep. The man seems wary and looks often over his shoulder. It's ok, he continues to say. I am suspicious but I try to sleep some more. An eye opens.

I am now behind a woman. An 'ah soh' (Chinese aunty) type of woman in a colorful short sleeve blouse so typical of women in the 70s. Her upper arms are large, like a middle-aged housewife's. She is carrying a child. The child looks back at me. The woman tells the child as she pats her back, "It's okay, kwai." Be good.

The woman has just exited a street market and is entering a  low office building. She is heading up the stairs. The child turns and stares back at me.

In the next scene, I am crossing a road. It could be Orchard, where Yen San building used to be. I am not sure as daylight is dim like dusk. I dart across out from behind a street-side shrub. The same child is there, in a stroller across the street. I tell her is it ok as I follow her down the street. A crowd seems to be doing the same in front of us. I feel protective towards the kid.

On my bed, my eyes open. I am still in fuzzy sleep mode. Bright light filters in from an uncurtained window; it's still daylight. I close my eyes and return to sleep.

I am now approaching a small yellow Cessna plane parked beside a hedge. It has no door and its propeller is churning. I climb in. It's alright, the pilot says. You are in safe hands.

We are up high in the clouds. I look at the plane's instrument panel and at the looming clouds in front. We zoom in.