The Escalator

I took a step towards an escalator. A step onward and it elevated. Slowly it did, closer to the 6th floor that I wanted to go.

Stepping another step, it was the next escalator. It took another six floors up.

12 storeys in all. Many people flashed by in all of the 12 storeys. Looking at each one faces, they had a story to tell.

Life is made of stories. Each has something difficult and different to relate, to tell. The 12 storeys escalator was in a shopping mall I chanced upon in Mongkok, Hongkong. It was an exceptional long ride, hence it was a very slow ride. So slow, that for once unlike in Singapore, I could look long and hard at everyone's expression.

I looked upward. Even I had a story to tell because it was difficult and different from everyone else.

Walking around, I came to a shop and so went in. It was a shop in a corner. There were wooden blocks everywhere. There was a calligrapher inside the shop.I took one wooden stick. She engraved a story.

A story that can only be worded on wood. DIfficult and different.