Random Encounters

Met a backpacker from Holland at Raffles MRT station. She had a beautiful lined face and pink caucasian skin and looked nice. Her shirt was this airy oversized yellow thing that looked a bit threadbare. We sat next to each other on the bench, I sneezed a bit and felt miserable about trying to clear my stuffed sinuses, and I have no idea how we started talking. She was headed for City Hall, which was a mere one stop away by the train. And yet in the intervening five minutes I learnt that she was a yoga instructor with an art gallery, two divorces and two sons and was taking off the next day after a four-day trip in soggy SIngapore. And she thought I was Malaysian.

This is cool stuff.