“Why must you always be the King of the Castle?” asked Yoke Ling indignantly.
“Because I’m the oldest mah! Right?” Paul asked his brother Peter, who would actually prefer a new King, but nodded out of fraternal loyalty.

“This time I want to be the King!” piped in Yoke Fen, the youngest at 6 years old.
“You’re a girl! Girl how can be King?”
“Then I’ll be a Queeeen,” replied Yoke Fen with a dazzling smile.

Robert’s heart skipped a beat. It happens every time he saw Soo Yin from Block B2.
She smiled shyly as she approached him. “Hi,” she greeted. “Hi,” he replied.

“Um… do you want to… go for a walk?”
She nodded. And put her hand in his.
As he led her away, he briefly felt sorry to leave the Spice Garden. After all, that was where they first met.

“You like that book?”
She looked up from the comic book she was reading. An older Indian man was smiling at her.
“That was mine. I donated it to this library.”

“I’m glad you did,” she said with a smile. “I like it a lot.”
“I’m Selvam, from Block C,” “Lee, from Bliock A.” They shook hands.
“Oh by the way, sorry about page 52. That was my grandson fooling around with his father’s marker pens…”

“Aunty, why is it called the Eco-Pool?”
Mrs Liew looked up nd saw a 9-year-old boy, looking at her expectantly.
“Well, when it rains, we collect it and keep it here, so we can use it again. That way we save water.”

The boy nods sagely. “Ooooh I seeee. Thanks Aunty!” He runs off.
What a brave and friendly little boy, Mrs Liew thought with a smile. Must remember to get his name next time.

Keong laughed loudly to himself.
“Wei, what you laughing at laa?”
He looked up. His pretty neighbours Nita and Nisha had noticed him, sitting under a tree with his iPad.

Grinning from ear to ear, he beckoned them over, and showed them the video he had downloaded on the Podium’s free Wi-Fi - which got them loudly guffawing too.
And as he had prepared a long, long playlist of videos, the girls decided to sit with him and watch them all – much to his delight.

Puan Rosnah gasped. “Is that what I think it is?”
Her neighbor Mrs Goh had just stepped out onto Puan Rosnah’s balcony, where the potluck party was getting started. Mrs Goh’s contribution was in the pot she held out before her.

“You like Sarawak laksa? I made it myself.”
If it weren’t for the pot, Puan Rosnah would have hugged Mrs Goh. “I haven’t had it in years and years and years!”

Mr Goh rolled the dice. “Ten,” he said, and started moving his piece ten squres.
“Market Street,” said Mr Johnson. “No,” replied Mr Goh. Eight, seven…
“Market Street!” asserted Mr Johnson’s son Badrul.

“No!” insisted Mr Goh. Five, four…
“Market Street!!” cheered everyone. “Noooo!!” cried Mr Goh as he landed on Market Street.
Badrul owns two hotels there.

Mrs Ting and Mrs Khoo are already on the Yoga Deck at exactly 6 o’clock in the evening. They’re dressed for exercise. But they are not doing any.
At 6.02pm, Mr Henderson comes jogging by on the Jogging Track.

“Hi Mrs Ting, Mrs Khoo.”
“Hiiii Mr Hendersooon,” both ladies coo.
And after he’s gone, they turn to each other. “So, same time tomorrow?”

“Tired ah?”
Encik Rizal had finished his run just ahead of his neighbour Joyce. She could only nod feebly while struggling to catch her breath.

“Not enough exercise lah tu,” chuckled Encik Rizal, who can run one entire circuit of the Jogging Track and is very proud of it.
“Ya lah, can only do 3 laps so far,” she panted.
Encik Rizal’s smile disappeared. He made a mental note to attempt 3 laps next time. Okay, maybe two.