Page 61 - KCMAGAZINE 20230717

1 Second ‘Till the “2 hours then.” A small hint of excitement washed over the edge of his lips, ruining his
poised demeanour ever-so slightly.

Parking Metre Sabrina smiled at this, and Alastair reciprocated, taking one last glance at his vintage
Rolls-Royce.

Runs Out’ The pair made their way down the pavement, Alastair’s gaze occasionally wandering off

towards the magnolia trees while Sabrina wondered if the lacey veil of her perfume was
discrete enough. The worsted wool of his suit brushed against the smooth satin of her
burgundy dress as Sabrina slinked her arm around Alastair’s.
Written by Khoo Xin Yi

The sun illuminated the streets in a tint of mellow orange, with a steady gradient
fading into indigo at the ends of the sky, clashing with the street lamps hanging beside
mechanical sirens, as fluorescent lights shone out from the corner lot in front of them.
Magenta sedums lined the doorfront planters, with wood-framed windows wrapping
round the walls.

“After you.” Alastair held the door open.

A waiter led them to their table, right at the open balcony with other guests seated
similarly. A white cloth had been draped across their table, with glimmering sets of
cutlery placed beside neatly folded serviettes, a single rose dividing the two. Black
railings lined the balcony, a now darkening sky painting the view, with the moon rising
up beyond the fairy lights.

Alastair addressed the waiter as the jazz band embellished the atmosphere. He placed
his order, before looking towards Sabrina, gesturing for her to decide on her drink.

Following a smile, she closed the menu just as the waiter finished noting down their
order.

Following the end of an ephemeral dusk and the start of a tranquil night, the two found
themselves relishing an allure of familiar mystiques, the dreamy blues moving forth
with glistening stars progressively filling the abyssal sky.

“The bill please.” With dessert over, Alastair handled the bill, Sabrina folding up her
“Would 1 hour be enough?” Coins slid off the tips of used serviette, and with a light tug, the former led the latter onto the open floor, closer
his fingers, brushing past the metal-rimmed slot of the to the music.

metering device as he craned his neck down, eyeing the
indicator beyond the fogged glass pane. Pacing a jazzy waltz, the pair shared an intimate dance, complimenting each other’s

“Exactly what do you have in store for us tonight, Mr Illustration by Ang Ruo Han steps, almost as if it were intrinsic nature to them.
Mystery?” A playful tone chimed in response, eyes “Chassé, whisk, and natural turn.”
tracing the half-peeled sticker on the front of the metre.

57 58