My own cell

Two weeks have passed since I moved into my 67 sqm or so HDB cell. One of many cells organised and structured in the honeycomb that is called the HDB high-rise. Every morning, from my ninth-storey vantage point, I could make out lights flickering into life in the honeycomb facing mine. Doors will open and disgorge drones with bleary eyes and fuzzy minds, all taking the tentative steps to another day of labour - all for the sake of paying off that $200 over thousand dollars cell that's our home, our cove, our prison.

So from the prison of matrimony to the prison of habitation, my life takes another turn.
I am so *not* excited awaiting my first CPF deduction to pay off this 20-year prison debt.