The Encounter

You know how it is. There are days when the heat is stifling and you’re just itching to get out of the house so you don’t die of heatstroke or immense boredom. Even though you know damn well an activity outside would also require heat endurance on some level.

So there I was, already a half step out the door, followed by the obligatory dramatic pause in step. It was a requirement to mentally verify that I did not leave anything behind. Leaving something behind had slowly become a nasty habit of mine, you see. However, all was good that day.

My mum was busy watering the plants in the balcony outside and waved goodbye at me as I shut the gate. Then I pressed the lift button and waited.

Waiting for lifts can be therapeutic sometimes. During that moment when there’s nothing you can really do, it’s good to reflect on the day, or in my case, stone. And when I say stone, I refer to the passive action of emptying one’s mind completely so that it resembles a vacuum or a black tunnel. Well, you get the idea.

My happy bubble of stoning suddenly popped when the doors opened and I saw HER. She was an average looking young woman, in her early twenties if I had to guess. Her hair was slightly tousled and there was a slight edge in her eyes. She looked straight at me and smiled.

Now I had no idea who this person was but her smile made it seem like she knew me. It was a tricky situation. I had only a split second to react accordingly and overcome this awkward moment.

So… I smiled back. Good job, me!

She brushed past hastily. I stepped into the lift and as I went down, my mind was busy figuring out whom this smiling woman was.

Was she a neighbour? No. It couldn’t be. I would recognise my neighbours. I was quite neighbourly in general and knew them. Not well. But I knew them. Maybe she was a friend of the neighbours?

Whoever she was, at least I smiled back. I was quite pleased with my quick thinking and friendly disposition.

Shortly after I stepped out of the lift doors and was halfway to the MRT station, I get a call from my mum.

“Was that your friend who smiled at you?”

It was such an odd question. I answered no, explaining that I didn’t recognise her but she smiled, and so I smiled back.

The next five words she said sent shivers down my spine.

“Well she just jumped down.”

“What?”

“She just jumped from our floor. The neighbours saw it too.”

My mind raced back to just moments before when I had just exited the lift. I had heard a loud thud. As I turned around, I realised that the roof over our public parking square had collapsed.

There were a few people peering over their balconies like typical kaypoh Singaporeans. I wondered what could have happened to trigger the collapse. But I didn’t see anything so I continued walking.

Back to the present as my mum then went on to describe how this woman had been lurking on our floor. And how she was just waiting for the right moment when nobody was paying attention.

Somehow knowing that this woman had smiled at me triggered an uneasy feeling in me. Could I have done something differently? Was my smile too forced? Should I have said more? Maybe then she wouldn’t have done something stupid.

But it was too late anyway.  And all I could do was to continue walking.

So I did.

(Based on a real-life experience)