"Is it a silly name I have?" she asked.

I considered it for a moment. "No. It's beautiful. It's real and it's true. Better than the Marchs, Aprils, Mays and Junes. I like your name. Not months. And I like you."

"Why?"

"Because when we are here sharing our warmth on the couch lying together we have nothing to hide. You can see everything of me. And I can enjoy every bit of you."

"I want babies. I want a husband to care for and who cares for me. I want a home. I don't care how humble, just some place I can have a little garden, put flowers on the sill and make it pretty for my husband and our children. "

I paused. And I nodded. But I did not say anything. I laid down beside her, hugged her tight, until eventually she went soft and deep into a quiet quiet sleep.



I woke up startled to the ominous sounds of chilly winds flapping in through the open window and saw an angel sitting on the sill. She turned to give me a look I would never forget. Before jumping down, without a word, without a scream, till the sound of a thud.


I wished I had told her that day. That I loved her. And I still do.





That day, the snow fell outside his house, in his house, in Singapore.