Wednesday, Feb. 19, 2014 - 6:24 a.m.
=== Burning A Cigarette
The woman leans her back against a marble pillar of the office building along Shenton Way. She lights a cigarette and takes a long drag. The tension escapes her mind like the smoke, and she is left as a silhoutted figure against the pillar. Inexplicably, she turns her hand and rotates the cigarette so that it becomes a vertical. She watches the jagged, burning edge of the flame advance down the white cigarette paper, until everything turns to ash.
=== Stealing Five Minutes (Singapore Time Travel)
The man has just parked at the Maxwell road carpark, and he looks around for the Summon Auntie. He has one last coupon. He punches out the circular discs representing the year, month and day but does not tear them off the coupon. He looks at his wrist-watch and at the coupon, before deciding to cheat a few minutes. He punches out a time 5 minutes into the future. 200,000 minutes are stolen by Singaporeans and their fraudulent parking coupons every day. That is approximately 3333 days of extra (or orphaned) time that is unpaid for, which does not exist.
=== Crossing the international date line
Every year on the anniversary of her husband's death, the old woman flies from Hawaii to Nagoya. She has no interest in the mountains of Hawaii nor the cherry blossoms of Nagoya. She only wants to cross the international date line on his death anniversary so that when she lands in Nagoya, she has lost the several hours containing his death, while ten kilometres up in the air. One year, as the nose of the Airbus touches the imaginary date line, she hears on an inflight science program�that Venus rotates so slowly that if you walked westwards along Venus' equator at six kilometres an hour, the sun would always remain at the same spot in the sky. Time would not be able to move forward. She thought�if could she walk faster than that, she would, by the laws of physics and axes of space-time�walk into yesterday.
