The knocking on the door was incessant, though for all
the reasons exist to justify my annoyance with it, such as the way each
pounding reverberates within my skull with amplified intensity and volume, I
was momentarily angered by the irregularity of its rhythm, or lack thereof.
Knock. Pause. Knock. Pause. Pause. Knock. Knock. Pause.
Knock. Pause. Knock-knock-knock.
My eyelids fought the gravitational weight of sleep to
flutter open, only to narrow at the noise in its wake (no pun intended). Belatedly, I heard the spurts of muffled garble
interspersed with the pounding. Ching? Ding? Ping? Ling?
Oh wait. It is Ying. The second half of my name is a mere
white noise from where I am lolling on the bed, as if the door is a translator
for the speaker (whose voice I can by now pinpoint to being my grandmother’s)
and my Hui is not a valid word in its language, thus lost in translation.
Finally, I draw upon the dredges of energy my
drowse-laden body can offer to utter an unintelligent and incoherent reply,
acknowledging her wake-up call and indicating that my immobility is a temporary
state awaiting metamorphosis.
The knocking ceased.
Cheeses and rice. What ungodly hour is this?!
I flopped over amongst the crumpled sheets and my tangled
earphones, looking less like the quick flip of a piece of lean meat on a hot
pan to cook the raw side, and more akin to the slow disjointed turn of a
overtly burdened spit over a small fire.
I dared a squint at the window to judge the time of day.
HOLY EXCREMENT MY EYES.
I am putting my finger on ten o’clock. Perhaps even
eleven. Well, either is an accomplishment (the hum of gratuitous prayers can be
heard in the house whenever I happened to wake before noon). I mean, I know the
early bird gets the worm, but I would prefer my motto to be ‘the second mouse
gets the cheese’.
As I contemplate on my next move in the speed of sloth, a
new shout did not take long to reach me. Neurological voice recognition
mechanism labels my aunt as the source of sound.
“Are you up yet? It’s very late already! It’s almost
8.30am!”
VAT.
This is diabolical. Is it even humane to wake someone up
before nine during a vacation?! Should not there be a legal set of holiday
etiquettes to adhere to –
“Your breakfast is getting cold! There’s sausages and
eggs and baked beans! Do you want coffee or not?”
Food.
All other thoughts ceased to exist following this point.
