cats.and.dogs.

Three pairs of eyes stared out from our 24th floor HDB flat on a Wednesday afternoon, past the fragile glass and into the millions of uncountable swirling floating water droplets, so dense that to the naked eye they appeared almost like tiny snowflakes. Up and down, left and right, following whatever invisible force that guided them on their plummeting descent towards the ground.

My sisters and I stood mesmerised by their power and magnitude (indeed many drops of water make up an ocean), marvelling at the way in which these droplets seemed to defy gravity at points, creating visible tracks of wind convergences in the sky just beyond the window. The occasional swift flashes of lightning, followed by the lagging bouts of thunder, drowned out whoever was singing on American Idol at that time, joining in a heavenly musical of sorts that scared the hell out of me, to say the least.

Huddling on the sofa in front of the tv with my sisters and beard papa creampuffs, I with my flu, my younger sis with her bandaged ankle (from running in the school corridor and tripping...!!!), and my elder sis with her piles of marking as teachers are wont to do, it felt as if the home had really taken on the personification of the security adage, and sheltered us physically from the big bad world outside. In an instant, I was filled with a sense of warmth and comfort, at knowing that I was safe at home, and not having to battle the evil forces of nature whatever they may be. All that this scene lacks is a romantically snow-laden landscape out the door, a roaring fireplace, and the invigorating scent of roasted chestnuts wafting through the inner recesses of the living room. Hahaha.

That aside, Constantine's version of 'My Funny Valentine' was really the best that I had ever heard him sing. (American Idol live and commercial-free! woohoo) Best performance out of all this week, ugliness and camera-pouting notwithstanding. Fatty Scott was pitchy, Carrie was bland, Nikko was R&B as usual, Federov was YUCKY (will people stop voting for him already?!?), Bo wasn't in his element, Anwar was predictable, Nadia was stunning in a beautiful white slinky satin gown, Vonzell was powerful vocals for a Streisand song, but Constantine, well, he simply blew me away. Out into the pouring rain and all. Swoosh! I went, past the white lace curtains, stuffy nose and all, riding the wind like the rain, effortlessly weightless. (Or at least I WISHED I could be weightless. Sigh.) Heeyah Giddyup! Back to Salman Rushdie I go to courtofy my Moor's Last SIGH.