Letters by Kenny Mah

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“to the end of the line”

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February 15, 2015

Hey you,

I’m flipping through old photo albums (which, these days, means picture folders in my external hard disk drive).

“Did you know that we’ve been going to the Japanese BBQ place at least a couple of months before we discovered Await Café?”

“That’s not possible,” you say.

“We did.”

“No way.”

But I’m right. The carefully labelled and dated folders tell no lies. Oh how the years have passed, and how swiftly! There may be many, many more (may there be more, more!) before we come to the end of the line, but every moment is precious. Whatever goes does not come back.

Earlier, we had decided on our version of a hot date. Driving to the mall to have dinner so we could head to the supermarket after for our packets of freshly-shelled durian fruit. Musang King for supper tonight.

We come home and put it in the fridge for a bit; we like our durian chilled. You make some chrysanthemum tea from scratch; no sugar added. And then we are ready. Fingers washed and lifting each seed to inspect and devour, the creamy flesh the most aromatic, heavenly manna.

This moment is precious. Wherever we go, whatever we do, we can always come back to this. The small things. The things we love. This life we share.

Yours always and always,

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