They were all old friends from college, student councillors who had shared a year so intense they thought it would bind them forever. But they had only been seventeen then and they sat together that night at twenty-eight, bound by a common thread so thin it was getting hard to see why they were still invited to each other’s weddings. No one was unfriendly, no eye or heart was cold, but the distance was showing. They had all moved on, experienced other things just as intense or more so, with other people. Few kept in touch regularly and weddings had become a rallying point for most, when they still sang their infamous college chant, the Shan Ge, to the embarrassment of the couple, the guests, and of late, themselves. It was about the only time they met and he supposed that with time, they would meet too to bid old friends farewell and say hello to those still living. He went home feeling tipsy and strangely lonely, aching for a family of friends that was related by something thicker than water, blood or alcohol. And even drunk, he knew he had such a family…

—Colin Cheong, Tangerine


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