In 1986, on my way back to the Oz country, I met an old friend of mine at the Changi Airport during a transit. I was glad to meet him as we were classmates (in fact, my first classmate) during our matriculation years. The following year, we went separate ways until our class farewell party which was held at one of our friends' house. There, I realised that we were, in fact, still good friends.
Today, after 25 years, I must admit that memories of my younger days keep flashing sporadically.
Faces of friends and my former students could greet me unexpectedly, both in reality and rarely, in my dreams. Though I wish I could be 'warmer', I simply can't spend much time with them anymore.
It's bedtime now, good nite. I told you, it's a transit before I am alive again tomorrow.
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