Our dining table at six this morning, slow, good-natured waking round crumbs of peanut butter toast and hot tea. I sat in the right corner, veins fizzing, amazed that the mere suggestion of wandering along a boardwalk at dawn had been met with such enthusiastic response.
The night before, four of us had piled into my parents' room, three of us huddled on the king-sized bed, planning our adventure for the next morning.
Earlier, I'd settled Bear, Edie and Wei Shun into the master bedroom and made to leave for my room for the night. "Wait a minute," Edie protested. "I thought we were all supposed to sleep in the same room!"
Bear sat up on her elbows, "Isn't that the point of a sleepover?"
Yes, but I wanted to make sure they had plenty of space, I pointed out, and I didn't want to disturb them if I snored or kicked out.
Wei Shun grinned and patted the empty space next to her. "Come on, Shuli, get in."
I demurred weakly for awhile and then after a little more cajoling, huffed off to grab pillows and a duvet. Maybe I'm too old for this, I was thinking slightly embarrassedly as I wrapped my arms around the bed clothes and came back into the room, maybe there's some kind of age limit for hanging out in pyjamas. But the girls were already comfortably piled high with blankets and setting their phone alarms for the crack of dawn and when I crawled into the space that they'd left me, I couldn't help smiling to myself.
We giggled until almost two and only settled down when Eddie laughed explosively and Wei Shun, thinking it was me, attacked me with her elbow. The alarm rang us out of bed at five thirty, when the world was still and cool and silent. And by the time we'd quaffed a quick breakfast and were driving down the Changi coast road, the sky was just beginning to turn colour.
Past the edge of the wooden boardwalk, Bear and I set up our cameras, settled our tripods in the sand while Eddie and Wei Shun sat on some old lounge chairs and talked, their faces turning golden in the soft sunrise.
We shot through the watery, ascending light and the fish-scaled sky and then we all walked backwards over an outcropping coated with thick, curly lashings of sea moss. Eddie and Wei Shun found small snails creeping through the green carpet while I sank down into it, soaking my shorts completely.
It was the most peaceful moment of my week on that miniature promontory, not talking much, feeling the salt-damp of the sea under my palm. When we'd had our fill of the sea air, we clopped back slowly, stopping to look into houses and buildings that lined the boardwalk. One structure with arched mustard walls and a brightly lit altar particularly intrigued me. I can't imagine being a caretaker there and living in a house slowly caressed to pieces by rust and salt.
After heaping plates of nasi lemak and fish at the nearby food centre, I drove us back to the East Coast, laughing and protesting as everyone shouted over the radio about my terrible sense of direction.
It was only a little after ten when we finally got back to my house to gather belongings and pull on work skins and in the car, on the way to work, I glanced in my rearview mirror and couldn't help but smile at us, sun-warm and sleepy from the simple morning.
I'm ready to turn in now, and beside me, the mattress is still piled high with all our cushions and coverlets. I'd love nothing more to dive right back in and I know two things: one, as soon as my head hits the pillow, I'll be out like a light and two, come on! You're never too old for a good old-fashioned sleepover!
