[3.06 am]

He waited on the couch, unshaved, waiting for something to come. Be it a phone call, a text message or even a knock on the door. Cluttered his apartment was after months of in-house desertion. He refused to work, eat or even move. But he talked. Maybe to himself. Maybe to something else but I can assure you that the only person there, was just him. Clearly can be seen were a pair of dark bags under his soggy eyes.

Then came a ghost, a beautiful ghost that the man seemed to know. Maybe the ghost was the man’s talking companion in the days before. He started mumbling. Then there were screams. The man closed his ears and cried. Wind started blowing wildly with occasional thunders on the outside. The ghost seemed upset by the man’s behaviour. There was a scene of intimacy between the two, and a long pause. Long enough to dry the tears from the man’s eyes.

“From the ruin, pick up the bricks and stones and build a shrine. Not the same shrine that we used to build together, but a new one. For my empathy is upon you my love”, the ghost broke the silence.

Then it vanished, never to return again.

A loose depiction of Leon Foo’s play.

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