Touch before quart past landing @ Tanamera. Slow-pacing along the left, shaded side of Mangkubumi, where some of the last little shopfronts were still standing. Within the A/C-ed walls of TM not a single soul at the tables, unsurprising during Ramadan. There had been a narrow miss on the Tugu crossing, because of a motorcyclist shooting along on the opposite side of the road, as they do here.
A spectacular WA from Sak arrived before leaving the room.
The pic of some blouses for suggested gifts had looked unappealing to the gal; looked like male attire. Couple jokes then following. After which Sak requested another item; a completely left-field other. No exaggeration—it was spectacular.
Here is the accompanying photo she sent:
Well, the gal may have guessed by now the odd range of gifts preferred by her new beau, only her second partner since teen years: a tongue scrapper had been presented, a blouse from the JB night market, an A5 journal & a pair of different coloured gel pens. The rest of it had been tehs & lunches at the street eateries.
(The two month Bulgarian husband had complained about his wife’s halitosis; perhaps something to do with the changed environment in the Balkans, because back on the Equator it was all honied sweetness. Once Sak had taken a nip of the Listerine in the cupboard. The thought of the scrapper must have arisen from that, though the gal had been given a clear A-OK otherwise.)
Now a broom would be a pleasure to add. Small, hand-sized, easily fitting in the suitcase, Sak had gone on to explain later during some to-and-fro. (Assuming a case and not knowing of the usual small shoulder bag.) The article was needed for brushing her bed mattress, she said.
Outright pleasure. Truly. But best left for the return to Sing, where the pieces had been noticed in the passes of the older form provision stores.
Frankly speaking, you needed such an item for your own mattress at Carpmael, too. All kinds of matter always managed to insinuate itself among the creases and folds of the litter, after tossing and turning night after night, dreaming, composing, fantasising still.
Over the journey it had always presented a problem the conventional gift expectation—cards, wrapping, ribbons added—though precious few of them were ever bought any of the girls, sweet and fine every single last one.
Lottsa probs with Sak and some of the others in the Tropics, but a whole other order of consideration there.
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