April 28th, 2016
4 a.m. A half conscious mind resting on a moist pillow trying to achieve absolute darkness, absolute peace. An hour passes. My grandpa in his suit and tie stands there, like those in the black and grey photographs. I had known him to be a gentleman. It is a reunion of the Ordnance club. A lot of the old officers had arrived. I stood there, afar, glancing with my dreamy eyes. My dad was there too somewhere, I was trying to find him until I got dizzy, a hand pulling me out. I spotted a potbelly and stooping shoulders as I tried to reach for the clock. His moustaches grown white. His smile holding back something. But my grandpa was rather different. The way I imagine poised officers of a British colony. His handshake was firm. His greeting in accordance to the formal affair. If I could find him alone, I'd perhaps ask him a thing or two. 6 a.m. Sun breaks in through the balcony door. I carry my weak legs to shut the light out. 7.30 a.m. Frank Sinatra playing again as ...