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About
A yellow flame tree grows at the open-air carpark outside my parents’ shophouse.
While it has witnessed the many seasons of our lives; we have watched it reach for the sky, trimmed and its yellow flowers falling onto the windows of all kinds. Along with a potent scent that can be rather overwhelming, I recall this conversation with Pa as we lock the doors and heading home.
Me: Wa, during this time of the year, the smell of these flowers make me feel queasy...
Pa: Ya, this flower ah, smell too much feel like puking.
In loving memory of Pa—our yellow flame tree.