Grace Ow

Singapore

Since I was young, I was a voracious reader and had a deep love of words and the way they could be used to convey meaning. I hope that my words and my stories would have a positive impact on others.

Message from Writer

Every face that we see in a crowd has a story behind it. I am trying my best to listen, tell and share all the stories that I can.

Memory Lane

March 19, 2017

PROMPT: I Remember

1
I remember the sound of my parent's footsteps. I remember the smell of coffee and cologne in the house. I remember the comfort of well-thumbed book pages. I remember the first time I had ever had a nightmare, about a man and children in cage. I remember my uniform, with blue pinafore and a white blouse. I remember the taste of cubed fried chicken and the taste of hot Milo in a styrofoam cup. I remember the days where we played more, worried less, innocent faces filled with carefree joy. I remember the taste of Dreyer's ice cream, as well as the ice cream shop opposite our house. I remember the Kachang Puteh I used to buy from the Indian man standing outside the mall, until he disappeared like a ghost. I remember the faces who those who have loved me and those who I have loved all my life, their frozen staring back at me from photographs. 

But I also forget. I forget the first words I have ever said. I forget the first steps I have ever taken. I have forgotten the clothes I used to wear, the colours I used to like. I forget the formerly important songs I used to make up in my mind, now buried somewhere in the drawer, or locked up in my past. I forget all the hurt I have caused every person, I forget all the kindnesses I have ever shown to them. Most of all, I forget feelings. I remember the events and places and the dates and the names, but I forget what it feels like to scream out in anger, or cry into your pillow, or jump for joy tasting the sweet joy of simply being alive. I forget, until the old photographs lose their colour and simply become someone else's story, of some other girl's life.

Finally, I remember the girl I used to be, but I forget the way she said goodbye to me.
Kachang Puteh: Spicy, orange coloured prawn crackers. Usually in squares or sticks.

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