There are too many lonely souls on Orchard Road.
Some of them gathered with lighted cigarettes, spending the night with aimless laughters. Many of them dressed to kill but did not catch any prey; they have downed too much liquid courage earlier and have lost their will to head home.
Anyway, I just spent 30 minutes walking through the place where I've spent my childhood.
I've tried invoking flashbacks and the ghosts of the past by retracing my steps while a couple of stall owners in the wet market watched me curiously.
I spotted a couple making out in the old basketball court and a homeless old man sleeping in front of a coffeeshop, enduring the cold of the night. Other than that, nothing significant came to mind; little fragments of yesteryear flickered like yellowed photographs.
I went home empty-handed; too many facelifts were in the way.
Perhaps returning in the light of day might help. Otherwise, only hypnotherapy or a near-death experience can restore that lost decade.