The Insurance Lady

Photo by Andre Benz on Unsplash

Editor’s note:

This was fun to make, hope you enjoy the article.
 As always, let’s look at life a little deeper. 
 Cheers.


Every new day that began, was another day to do more work.

We work to earn money, we earn money to have fun and enjoy ourselves. We enjoy ourselves by spending our time wisely.

— — — — — — — — —

The morning began in a cacophony, her true music never had an opportunity to be heard. The jarring iPhone alarm filled the room, blaring incessantly into her head. She woke up and whipped herself into action. Every motion a conscious and deliberate effort. Her bedsheets were flung into the corner, left in an unruly pile at the corner of the room.

‘Ugh, I’ll clean that up later; when I get home.’

She got up and walked to the bathroom.

Mechanically, she inserted the toothbrush into her mouth and went back and forth, cleaning especially between the gaps, she wanted to rid herself of all the tastes from the night before.

Fresh Colgate.

She looked in the mirror and saw what was a used carcass; walking dead.
Forcefully, she brushed her teeth. It was a habit of hers; her gums had receded ever so slightly because of it, exposing a crevasse of enamel. After doing so, a quick gargle and spit of menthol Listerine ensured that it was a sterile environment.

It was now time to pack her bag, and she had always kept a copy of 1984, but it was always on the back of her mind to consider removing it. The small book was too much to bear for her petty polished leather pouch.

She had cautiously curated her stationery, choosing: a faux fountain pen, a sleek monologue notebook, and the iconic company-issued iPad.

A quick glance at the digital clock on her wall suggested that she had to hurry. 7AM. Her client decided that it would’ve been fun to only be available on Saturday morning for a meeting.

Her day was going to be hectic, 3 client meetings and a roadshow to sell at. The odds were in her favour this time, it rarely ever was, and all her events were situated in the eastern region of Singapore.

Dressed to sell, she was ready to entertain her clients.

Just as she was about to lock the door, a feeling suggested that she had forgotten to take something, she had left her mask behind.

Hurriedly, she went back into her flat to ensure that she wore it tightly before she left the house. This was what a life of coveting for a stable income had amounted to.

Within a few moments, she found herself at the MRT platform waiting for the doors to open.

A forceful gust of air caressed her face as she the doors reeled back before her. 
 
Lady Luck smiled at her once more, and a vacant seat next to the glass panel on the mat was available. With a sigh of dread, thinking about the condition of the day, she took repose on the glossy green seat.

She slid her soft hands into the stiff leather pouch and reached for her book, she was going to visit Julia and Winston once more again.

The bright lights flared majestically, as the train picked up speed, the low rumble of the train rose in pitch like a filling bottle.

She held the book in her hands, it was in pristine condition despite its vintage age. Placing her thumb on the cover page, it ran from the first page to the last, releasing a pleasant waft of aroma and nostalgia.

Thoughts of childhood and troubling times whispered in her ear, it was time to revisit them.

— — — — — — — — —

‘Girl ah world you like to have some dinner?’

‘No. ‘

It was too late to have lunch, she was full of hate.

She had found someone else to have dinner with, her books seemed to be better at accompanying her compared to her parents.

Even though they were kind of dead, at least they were always there for her.
Those characters in her books, they could care, they could take care of her whenever she needed their comfort and love.

For some reason, the primary school library at the time had failed to veto the scandalous book out.

Both her parents being educationally incompetent, knew little about the content of the book and when she wanted to purchase the book, she saved up enough money to purchase the book on her own.

The adventure of subversion, sexuality and torture could be ridden at her whim.

Her passion for the subject was just that intense.

But as she grew, she had left it under the bed, some said that it was impractical, others a waste of time. Nothing of use could come out from such an intangible degree, a degree that could not contribute to the economy in any way whatsoever. That was what they said at least.

Back then, the world that she was in was very tiny, it had consisted of a few friends who she had never shared her interests with.

Nothing too special, nothing out of the ordinary.

She would go to school, go through the motions, talk to her friends every now and then, play a little bit of catch with them and then return home to read and then watch television. Occasionally she would leave the house for tuition and the odd social gathering.

That was what her life had amounted to.

The world was a drudge, it was terribly boring, she wished that one day, she could be transported into the land of fantasy, where anything was possible and where there were no rules that could bind her to such a monotonous routine.

The world would be a better place if only she could leave and break out of her bubble. A place where Prince Charming could sweep her off her feet and take her to distant and majestical lands on horseback.

To see the luscious valleys and hills, fields of daffodils and to lie there in his warm embrace. If only, if only, if only.

That was the dream and the hope.

Using this, fictional dream, she managed to push through the academic rigour in Singapore and eventually majored in literature.

— — — — — — — — —

Eventually, she did return to her former ambitions, fleetingly studying literature as her major in university.

She had lived a dream.

Now, she was crushed and broken. Nothing but a small kindle was left.

She had succumbed to the allure of the well-trodden path.
At least she was comfortable now, however boring it was.

— — — — — — — — —

‘Pasir Ris, please mind the platform gap’

Hastily, her books fell into her back into their place in the pouch. 
Away from sight.


This week we have Kieran helping to play an instrumental role in shaping the story and the general flow of the post for today.

Thanks for spending the time to really help flesh out this weeks post, especially when other priorities demanded your attention.

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KIERAN: @kjrm209

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