Peter Cat blogs

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This buiding stands tall, hardly gleaming but a cornerstone in my childhood textbook buying days. The National Library next door and the Raffles Hotel across the road, it’s alike seeing a humble watermelon amongst the pralines and truffels in a uptown supermarket. Awkward. Painted and repainted many times, over and over the peeling white paint but the old timers tenants linger.

Image of Jack’s Place with their sizzling plated steaks and the service stuffs in bow ties and crisp whites while diners are seated behind darkened panes and retro curtains jolted me back to the time when I used to buy books here- my Enid Blytons- i was a big time famous five fan, the second hand textbooks and picture books from popular book shop. But then I wore skirts, frilly and pink too and lacy socks. Madness of childhood and its unforgivable unfashionable transgressions.

Many old timers are still here- the CD shops, the small timers stationary stores, second hand book shops, art shops- shop owners who still display their wares very much the same way. I imagine opening a quaint little shop like this, sitting in the same spot year after year, next to the dust and the passing shoppers, the rusty gates, the sun bleached afternoons year upon year, hardly the stuff you pass on.

At one corner, one of the bookshop is holding a closing down sale with textbooks going for $1 each and children’s books 30%-50% off. I bought a local publication on sex change, complete with illustrations.

When I left i wondered if it will still be here ten years from now, like a loving mother with her constant unwavering affection for her offprings…