Community Standards

When the light flickers, people behave. When it stops, they explain.

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Tan here. A long-term resident of Block 345, Chestpeak Avenue.

It’s not a bad place to live. The residents of Block 345 are generally orderly folk who maintain the block well. And I like that they leave everything where it should be.

But that lamp. That idiotic lamp.

The flickering of that idiotic lamp was irritating. Irregular. Inconsistent.

It happened whenever I walked past, but some enjoyed uninterrupted illumination.

That was interesting to note.

Coincidence, of course.

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Take Mdm Lim, for example. The one who waters others’ plants for them. That light would behave over her.

Now me? I’m not a plant person. I like to keep up with the news.

But I’m a retiree. I can’t afford regular newspapers, so I depend on…external help.

I sometimes…er…borrow the newspapers outside neighbours’ apartments when they’re not watching.

And that darned light would go on and off over me whenever I did.

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I, Tan, believe that optics must be upheld. I’ve always done this at work.

And at home as well.

Sharing corridors requires community discipline, so I make sure to return the newspapers slightly earlier.

What is borrowed must return mah? Best practice.

Tan always obeys community standards.

💡🏢💡🏢💡🏢💡🏢💡

They finally replaced the silly lamp. See? I said that the wiring was faulty.

Nothing unusual. Just the Town Council and its nonsense.

Things went back to normal since the lamp stopped flickering. Mdm Lim waters her own plants and conserves water for herself now.

Everyone else’s – not so important lah.

Me? Now that the lamp has stopped flickering, I have decided to borrow newspapers permanently.

No returning. For what? Everyone can see anyway.

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So, everything in order, lah.

It WAS faulty wiring, like I said. Glad they corrected it.

Mdm Lim waters her own plants and conserves water for herself now.

I borrow…but when no one else is in the corridor.

I don’t like that light now. It shows. Too well.

💡🏢💡🏢💡🏢💡🏢💡

Original Singaporean microfiction by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental

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After the Question

Some subjects are not resolved — only remembered.

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The table –

A family feast.

Everyone fussing with frankness.

Red. Pink.

Lanterns over the door.

Symbols of prosperity. 

Kindred souls.

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Eating.

Refreshing rawness of roe.

Familial jokes.

“Remember how Uncle Henry died?”

Silence cloaks the table.

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The dining room pauses.

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The dog by the window.

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Canned laughter.

“Delicious.”

“Is that program on?”

Chewing, slowly.

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Silently.

🥢🧧🧨

Shoes on.

Purposeful steps.

“See you next year.”

Uncle Henry – remembered.

🥢🧧🧨

Original poem by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

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Steady Beneath the Red

The Chinese welcome the year of the Fire Horse this 2026.

But the horse isn’t always firey …it also possesses a gentle, rugged spirit.

For everyone on Vocal, for the Lunar New Year. And for those who need it at this time…may the gentle spirit of the horse, and the red packets of blessing, be a guide.

A red envelope

Sealed with good fortune and grace

A blessing of luck.

Second red packet

Closed and given with sweetness

A blessing that binds.

A third red packet

With success hidden within

Little gift of hope. 

A fourth red packet

Given with grace of good health

And a wish of strength.

Final red packet

Filled with nuggets of pure joy

For the year ahead. 

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The Drill That Stayed

Singapore celebrates Total Defence Day today – when we consider all aspects of defence.

The military. The people.

The economy.

The MIND.

That requires the greatest protection.

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

Breached…

A siren rehearses my ears and mind.

Preparedness, neat.

Checked.

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

“Be ready.”

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

Mind unbraced, with too many doors.

The sound fades, but a thin ring stays.

A soft hum. It never left.

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

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A soft, other voice.

Calm, in a uniform

Fitting all.

My mind’s doors, unlocked.

Messages on billboards – suddenly mine.

“Stay quiet. Be safe.”

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

“Stay silent. You’re safe.”

“Remain vigilant. You’re set.”

We practice. The body obeys.

The mind relents.

Each repetition, more polished.

Each exercise widens.

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

“Stay quiet. You’re safe.”

It wants me managed

Not broken down. Taken over.

The safest mind –

Absorbs.

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

The voice.

Name it, its grip

Loosens.

Reality –

Maintained.

Truth louder

When shared.

🚨🧠🔒🕳️📢🫥📺🔁🧼🫧🕯️👁️‍🗨️🤫✅

Only Love

Does love demand sacrifice,

or simply receive what’s offered?

For all who love to answer.

🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀

The altar

The middle

Of the home.

Polished marble

Small sacrifices in a

Central bowl.

A faint hum from its 

Centre.

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Only time.

Only sleep.

Only freedom.

The marble shines brighter

With each offering.

Only love. 

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His voice, for its glow.

Her preferences, for its sheen.

Their laughter. For its presence.

Soft gifts for its appetite.

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The altar. 

The marble shine –

Glows.

From the souls.

From the hearts.

From the whole gifts

Of selves. 

🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀

They take the altar

Down.

It remains.

To shine

Or stay

In silence. 

🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀🕯🥀

Original poem for Valentine’s Day by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

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Not Concluded Part 4

No outstanding issues – or were there?

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

Then, hairline cracks. Thin. Barely noticeable. Stretching across the walls.

The paint had begun to swell, creating faint damp lines along the skirting.

The paint cracked and blistered.

The corridor felt cool.

But they decided that it was within acceptable limits. No directio

A tenant mentioned the air in the corridor being damp. Bubbles along the door frame.

I recorded it as under monitoring.

Aware of the situation. Being addressed.

No damage.

A second person arranged to view the apartment — and cancelled.

So I went to clean it. Seasonal cleaning. Perhaps that would help.

I stepped into the unit and coughed.

My hands swelled. My gloves didn’t help.

The smell still clung.

But it was temporary. Nothing serious.

I sat in front of the computer, the log files in front of me.

To escalate — or not.

I decided to record the damage — but it didn’t need attention.

Just observation.

A pending review. No need to bother them.

I left it and went about my business.

Someone finally rented it. An elderly lady, looking for a quiet complex.

Ours was it.

She slipped slightly on the mouldy tile.

Filed a complaint. 

A third viewing was permanently cancelled. 

The damage would surface in time.

It always does.

But it was contained — for now.

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

Original microfiction series by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

Follow it here:

Part 1 of the story is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

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Not Concluded Part 3

No outstanding issues – or were there?

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

I had to go back to the apartment. Check on it.

They didn’t tell me to.

I passed by it again. It was easier to go over it myself.

But there was no need to go into it. I didn’t log it.

Somehow the air felt – more dense. it didn’t circulate as before. The walls had shadows on them. The ventilation – louder. 

Breathing. Constant humming.

It felt enclosed. 

I touched the mould with my gloves. It stained them. 

Deeper than yesterday. I had to replace them.

The debris on my sleeve. The clinging dampness.

That stayed. 

But minor.

They scheduled a viewing for the next day. It was brief – no questions. But the prospective tenant left, fast. They didn’t mention anything.  But didn’t return, or follow up. 

The unit remained- available.  

I was tired. I didn’t see the need to really clean it. I left the corners of the floor untouched. Left it for the next day — no need to attend to it right now. It could hold. I had other things to do. 

So the unit remained stable. The apartment block stayed as it was.

Everything as it was. Under control.

No need to bother revisiting. Or cleaning.

I could leave it alone.

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

Part 1 of the story is here.

Part 2 is here.

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Not Concluded Part 2

No outstanding issues – or were there?

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

I couldn’t put a finger on those calls — or the mould. So I did what any responsible janitor would do. I paid it a visit.

The unit was still unoccupied. The previous tenant had given it an airing — that was for sure. But the mould still appeared on the walls, in the exact spots it had earlier.

I wasn’t concerned. Vacant units were easy-peasy. There were no tenants who’d grouch at our presence.       

So, I got to work. The records showed that all issues had been resolved. The words were nothing new.

But there was something — different.

About the date.

Repeated.

Too repeated. As though someone had just checked and updated the logs —

logging “repaired” without checking.

So, I logged it again — myself. In the same language, same terms.

Professional. Recorded.

Repaired.

I didn’t comment — that wasn’t for me to do.

I just waited for instructions — that never came when they should have.

There were no further questions. No clarification.

No one asked that any action be taken.

It was just logged in the system — marked for monitoring.

Nothing for me to be concerned about.So I cleaned the unit once again. I adjusted the ventilation, just to keep the air flowing.

But viewings were postponed.

It was simpler and less costly to keep the apartment empty.

No problems — nothing needed coordinating.

So the issue remained contained – not a worry.

It didn’t disrupt life.

There was no smell from the apartment. No one claimed it. 

So no conclusion was required. There was no need to put anything on record.

They let the unit remain empty.

I was to do my job.

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

Part 1 began here.

Original Microfiction Series by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

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Not Concluded Part 1

No outstanding issues – or were there?

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

Blah. Ordinary. Old, and nothing spectacular. So was the work.

And I was used to that.

The building was in working order. Nothing seemed wrong with the lifts or doors.

No malfunctioning doorknobs.

It was functioning, which passed for reassurance.

There seemed nothing urgent. People moved through it with regulated indifference.

It looked as though it could manage without me.

I didn’t receive the block in a typical handover. Most things were unexplained.

There were issues. Settled. But no one quite explained how. All anyone told me was that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. The complex was on the up and up.

Tenants went missing. Recorded as absent. Just scheduling matters.

I did my first round of the complex. Everything was in order.  But not the same as looked after. 

Repairs had been completed by my predecessor before I took the complex over. Carefully enough – to settle any arguments. Some areas were clean, but never used, as if purposely kept that way. 

Oh, it was maintained. Functional. But not comfortable. 

At least, not for the soul. 

The tenants showed great gratitude for my work – as if I was continuing it for the other guy. I hadn’t known him. 

But when I asked who had done repairs before, they wouldn’t say a word. 

I assumed it was that other guy. And left it there. 

Then, the calls. Too many of them. 

Mould. From the same unit. 

The mould appeared too often for coincidence to explain it. It had been gotten rid of – too many times. 

Why the same date?

Someone had kept the books in order – too much in order. 

The paperwork shouted “done.” The building -silent. 

My role had already been decided before I started work. Just janitor. Caretaker. 

But my name wasn’t there. The computer’s records didn’t show who had filled my role before. It was as if I had been just – slotted in. 

Every task had been recorded as completed. 

There was nothing urgent – at all. That was the gap. 

Nothing written about it – just assigned. 

Not concluded. 

🧾✔️✔️✔️ 🤫

Original Microfiction Series by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin. AI tags are coincidental.

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Still Walkable

The little things can sometimes grow too large.

🔹➡️⚠️➡️🕳️

The sinkhole.

Minor.

A tiny flaw.

The road still held.

Everyone could walk.

The ground knew to dress in proper asphalt grey.

But each day it changed —

That grey dress grew wider.

And wider.

Then it started to disappear.

Collapsing into a hole of nothing.

Not abrupt.

Just overdue.

🔹➡️⚠️➡️🕳️

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