MY STORYBOARD

It's four in the morning and i am still awake as others in my kampong are sound asleep, lights off. Neighbours used to wonder what the heck is the guy doing with the lights in the room on till the wee hours . Hard to believe that he is resting on his laurel after retirement , far away from where he used to live and work for thirty-four years of his life. Still, there is no escape from the rempits(ramp-it) of the motorbike modified, as the house he is residing for the past six years is just a few meters off the country road. The two-storey house, partly inherited, is still stable, withstanding its thirty-eight year of existance. Made of wood, mostly, it once was the talk of many, and the landmark to some, very grand. Then, it looks sorry from the outside, compared to the ones just re-build by the neighbours to the right and the left. More so with the current development, a new township engulfing . Dad and mum had years been passed away...sisters and brothers living in the hustle and bustle of a capital, this house would have tumbled to the ground and became the haven for tens of generations of the terminators, mice, cockroaches and termintes alike.

Had it not been for this guy.