Scrawl Place

Back in 2016, certain circumstances lead me to an (unplanned) overnight stay in the Singapore Changi airport. While an airport is definitely not my preferred method of accommodation, I was able to glean an introspective moment amidst the mild chaos. I’ve been trying to put this experience into a story or poem, but it never seemed to fit anywhere. That is, until Scrawl Place posted an informal call for pieces about airports on Twitter. And then this just kind of fell out.

The thing with airports at night is they don’t always stay open like a grand metropolis city. Restaurants close. Areas are sealed off. Lights are dimmed. This is what happens when everything else shuts down and all I can do is wait for my flight.

Read Singapore Changi Airport at 2am in Scrawl Place, a literary travel journal.

A picture of purple water lilies floating in an indoor pond.

I want to tell you about the sleeping fountains. How I found them in a little oasis too small to be noted on a terminal map.

“Singapore Changi Airport at 2am” in Scrawl Place