Byline

I am Hui Min — a pen name, not a brand. I live on Serangoon Avenue 2, in a flat where the corridor catches the afternoon sun and the lift hums on the way down. I have been in this neighbourhood long enough to know which bus will lie about its arrival time and which stall at the wet market runs out of chye sim before noon on Wednesdays.

I write because noticing is a discipline and I am otherwise too easily distracted by small errands. These notes are not commissioned, not sponsored, and not written to teach anyone how to live. They are records: kopi, connectors, kitchen tables, towels on rails — the visible grammar of an ordinary life in Singapore.

I do not write about workshops, apps, or anything that requires me to pretend I have a product. I do not write true-crime journalism. When a note touches something serious nearby, I stay inside my own sightline and say plainly when I do not know.

If you write to me at [email protected], I read it during quiet hours — late mornings and early afternoons, SGT. I may not reply quickly; this is not a service desk. I fix small factual errors on the errata page when someone kindly points them out.