NS7

Another station that is neither my story to tell nor home to make. But if there's one thing I have the rights to say, it's this line that only I can see. Some unseen force that I know is pulling me back.

I'm not sure if anyone else feels this way, but even the inside reminds me of Johor. There is this vibe that reminds me of Larkin somehow, and there's no other station that can do it better than this. It has the same bustling crowds yet it just makes me feel like I'm in another state.

Maybe it's got to do with this being a terminal for the people going across the border. I never had any reason to go along, but the wind was always among them. Everytime I picked him up or waited for him, the queue stretching across the bus stop acted as a line that I shouldn't cross.

There's only one other memory, of the rose pointing out the window, showing me the stationary trains behind the fences. If not, I tend to avoid Kranji; there're all these invisible boundaries around it, like it's part of another world. It's even pulling me back from talking about it.