The Red and the White (Jan25)

Chap wearing a tee that needed to be fittingly saluted. Raised arm, hand waving, two-point-five metre separation...

         Easy to see the fellow had never in his born days been hailed by a white man pen in hand, smiling warmly and appreciatively. 

         Yanasagaran had said after generations of toil under the pulverising sun some of the Southern Tamils were particularly dark. 

         Little tall for the average; moustache about right. 

         What he was doing sauntering along the path on a Saturday morning must remain a mystery; there was no outward sign of injury suggesting medical leave. 

         Bright colour tone semaphoring on the approach, the signature white cursive in a long wave high on the chest.

         Something longer than the usual here, as it appeared…

       Capitalism

         Cheap middle Geylang Cybers did not offer the full range of fonts.
         Relief as much as anything. Ducking another mental sock to the jaw. 

         Not top-most points for wit and unlikely to raise the populace, but after fully forty-four months in the midst of the co-opted Singaporean corporate peon every street, this was sweet revenge.