pamela seong koon


As a little girl I always believed

hearts were made of spun sugar

and never melted. Every house

knew warmth and shepherd pies

and the crossed paws of a pet. So

imagine my shock when my father

aged to thunder, the floor cold

to touch, the weather forecast

being told in percentages. Tomorrow

there is a 50% chance of rain

but there is no way to half

a backlash. There is no way

to half the hands that shrivel

like a snail backing to its shell. This

time, it is me that wants out,

yet I fail to detach from a house

without a beating heart and

a door. A forecast tells me

that there is nothing wrong

with leaving. That leaving

allows a downpour to

peel itself to sunshine. A

pet left behind is still

eternally loved. I know that

I am braver for learning

that spun sugar will always

melt in rain.

Pamela Seong Koon is a Singaporean port worker and a multi-hobbyist on their off days. Their work has been published or is forthcoming in superfroot, Alien Literary Magazine, and OF ZOOS. They can be found at