The Menthol Effect

I sat on the bench after my swim. The breeze was strong in the late afternoon sun. My eyes forced to shutter down to just the typical lined eye of a Chinese face, I watch the waters. It was but a shiny tattered mirror of reflections as the afternoon breezes on. I was alone, I inhaled my Davidoff, the menthol effect, and the taste of coolness filled me. As I closed my eyes watching the waters, I was back by the river.

It is summer, and I am in the jetty near Blackwall. I am early as usual to get the best spot on the jetty. I am alone. Holding my rod with my eyes close, I am waiting patiently for the first sign of the Tailor run. Peeking out onto the glaring afternoon, the tatter of reflections on the Swan, the Marlboro, the menthol effect, and the taste of coolness fills me. I can smell the brackish river. The water splashes, the Blowies plays. A crow calling I hear now. The tree rustles in the wind. The crows of Perth are elegant, steroids in shiny black feathers like silk. They do not look anything like their undernourished cousins in Asia. I hear the bark. Must be a Retrieval on the river walk with his owner. It is summer. I am in the state of blissfulness.

I opened my eyes. I was beside the pool. The tattered mirror of reflections filled my vision. Maybe this is self denial, but maybe just enjoying the euphoria so long lost never to be found in Singapore is all that’s worth for. I am the free yellow bird (ok,,, fat yellow Chinese bird), away form the cage of a diminutive, routine and restricted population.