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Saturday, October 7
A thoroughly non-political and unresentful ramble.
Once upon a time, there were two little girls who happened to be neighbours. (And in between their houses was a quaint little shop which sold water for exorbitant prices and mats.) The little girls' names were Donnie Seah and Sheena Poh. Well Donnie had a huge albeit rather run-down estate, with a backyard full of trees and shrubbery that stretched many yards; while Sheena's little red house with her well-kept garden was a mere dot in comparison. Now here was the problem - every year, for no conceivable reason (as far as Sheena Poh was concerned), Donnie Seah would set fire to her yard of trees, burning them to the ground - and, inevitably, introducing insane amounts of smoke into the air. The friendly North wind (or whichever, its not really the point) would then huff and puff and blow - no, not Donnie's house down - the smoke over the little mat shop and into Sheena's lovely garden
city. Sheena's Daddy told her it was called 'haze', (probably some fusion of 'heat' and 'maze', she thought). Well the haze made Sheena Poh's eyes hurt and she could feel her lungs disintegrating. Daddy even made her wear an ugly mask. So she decided to write a note:
"Dear Donnie Seah, please stop burning your trees because it's making my throat hurt. Thank you. Signed, Sheena Poh."