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Happy birthday, mum.

The familiar humidity. The familiar mix of body odours that permeates every Woodlands-bound bus. The familiar (and illegal) fruit stall set up just outside Woodlands MRT. The familiar screech of parrots as I approach home. There was no one at home when I got back - it's my mum's birthday, so that was to be expected - so I snuck in via the back door. Not everything at home is familiar. For

 

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