The day began with quiet intentions — a small meal shared, a walk beneath the lights of Tampines. The restaurant hummed with conversation and cutlery, the scent of grilled chicken and creamy soup rising like comfort. Yet beneath the gentle clinking of glasses, emotions flickered — impatience, scolding, the ache of being seen and misunderstood.

Still, there was kindness beneath the noise. A mother’s treat, given with love that wears sharp edges. Gratitude lingers like steam from a cup of lychee tea — sweet, fleeting, and sincere.

Later, on the bus, strangers hurried and kicked, the air heavy with frustration. But even then, I found myself whispering “excuse me” — a small act of peace, a soft rebellion in a restless world.

Tonight, I sit quietly again, remembering that warmth doesn’t always speak softly, but it still means care. And though the air feels hot and heavy, I know — this, too, is love trying its best to be understood.

🌙 Grateful for the treat, for resilience, and for calm that returns after the storm.