An hour before

THE setting for this story is the corner of that street. It's a corner used by many. The day begins with rain and clouds and sunshine and more rain. Then night falls, the blocks are lit and the story begins. It's an hour before a new year and our hero is waiting.

I'm trying to be calm. I've been standing here for 15 minutes. I see a cab but someone at the bus stop suddenly flags it. The taxi passes me and I see her face. I wish her death and disease.

Lucky I get taxi. My stomach very pain. I must go to the 24-hour clinic. The taxi pass by this man. His face not happy. But not my fault what.

I'm trying to be calm. I see another cab. 'On Call'. I turn and look at my block. A woman is standing at her balcony.

I hang the clothes. Wash at night better because I got time. That man so long he wait for taxi. My husband he shout at me. TV boring. I go to hawker centre to eat. You go there to eat or drink?

There's another taxi. With passengers. That strange man is going to the hawker centre. My neighbour. Useless drunk. All the more when I notice the Bangladeshi worker lugging trash. I smile at them. I feel like giving him a present or some money.

Why that man is laughing I don't know. I am tired. At night also must work.

There's that old woman again, going through the rubbish. I wonder if she knows it's New Year's Eve. I wonder if she cares. I don't. I'm just waiting. To go somewhere. To see fireworks.

I'm just waiting. I'm just waiting. I'm just waiting.

An hour after

THE setting for this story is the corner of that street. It's a new year. Our hero has been waiting for two hours.

I'm trying to be calm. I see my neighbour staggering home. God bless his soul. I look at my block.

How come that man stand there so long? See lah my husband. Every night drink. Don't care. At least I know where he is. Just now the concert on TV not bad. Got rap video, got getai, got violin... got donno what campaign.

I see the Bangladeshi worker. Still working. Still smiling. The old woman has a treasure- trove of cans and cardboards. Everyone is moving except me. I have to move. I have to - There's a taxi. I move. I run. I run to the middle of the road.

Lucky I get this taxi. I can go home. My stomach pain but the doctor say I am pregnant. I got baby inside me!

Finally, I moved. I'm no longer waiting. The taxi hits me and I fall. I see everyone around me. I thank them for coming to my party. I have gifts. A bottle of the finest cognac for my neighbour. A big ang pow for the Bangladeshi worker.

I look at the old woman. Are you happy, I ask her. She nods. Are you sure, I ask again, as I hold her hands. She begins to cry softly. No, she says. She is not happy. Will you be happy looking through trash every day? Will you be happy being old with no family, no friends, no one to care for you? And then, through the tears, she starts laughing. I am alive, she says. I am still working. I am still useful.

I look at my block. I wave to that woman on the balcony. And she waves back. It's a new year. A beautiful new year.

And I don't have to wait any longer.

The setting for this story is the corner of that street. Our hero is having a party. The sky is ablaze with fireworks. And in that corner of that street, everyone is going home with a present.

Haresh Sharma, 41, is the resident playwright of theatre company The Necessary Stage.