In the Dark

Auntie at the KomalaV register cleaning her nails it appeared. No, a pair of orange-handled secateurs on a long plastic tangled cord. For her garden at home? The odd common initial agreement from her, before in fact the negative followed. And as soon as it was out of course immediate self-correction: Who in the heck had a garden in Singapore! Not a woman parked behind a cash register six days a week. For the pots most likely, balcony and indoors. Again, not the case. No. Only.....(inaudible) minutes sun per day.... What, only forty minutes sunlight in her flat? (Possibly, most likely, she did not have a balcony in an older style HDB.) Twenty, the nice old aunt corrected. Twenty, what? How? Was it possible?... Was there not a fundamental human right enshrined in an internationally agreed charter for light even for incarcerated prisoners, much less citizens of a first world country? It seemed highly unlikely Mr. Lee and his son Lee fille following in dad’s large footsteps would allow the construction industry to get away with anything of the sort, with blue murder. What, in the tropics twenty minutes only could be granted of sun-light and you needed to shut the FFFF up about it and be grateful you weren't living in a water-logged swamp like in the old days with uncovered sewer, mud and filth and picking through refuse like others in the region? Really?