Two days ago, for the first time in at least a decade, I went for a walk around my neighbourhood.
At the home on the corner, I stopped to take photos of pink-white streaky roses, bouncing to and fro in the wind. I later post them on Instagram, captioned: buffeted.
I wrapped my navy blue woollen cardigan tight around me and continued on, arms crossed.
Not that long ago, I worked in the city. I used to watch my reflection glide across the windows of office buildings, cafés, restaurants, shops: streets and streets of glass. Now, I work from home.
I looked for my reflection in my neighbours’ windows but they were small and too far from the path.
I could not see myself.
Shu-Ling Chua is is an essayist, critic and poet. Her work focusses on femininity, self-narrative(s), image and personas. hellopollyanna.blogspot.com / @hellopollyanna