Shortage

It would be swift. Time was of the essence.

Get in, locate IT, pay for IT and get out. Exact change. Nimble movements. Unnoticed. Unheralded.

The automatic glass doors opened invitingly though I had not moved from my spot. Had its sensors sensed my intention? Cool air enveloped my being. of sweat on my forehead welcomed the cold. My feet stepped forward instinctively.

Once inside, I scanned the terrain. Endless aisles of shelves. My target was not in sight. IT was nowhere to be seen. Silence. Deafening silence.

On impulse, I headed for the stairs. Up I went in search of IT. I imagine many had made this same arduous journey of hope to possess IT. Time was running out - less than a month to judgement day.

My gut feeling was accurate. There, in front of me, bold lettering promulgated ITs abode. Relief swept through my self. I sauntered forward to claim my prize.

A mistake - a fortuitious lapse! IT was not there! Despair gripped my being.

'May I help you sir?', an innocous yet shocking intrusion interrupted my thoughts.

The salesgirl peered at me with her permanent smile. I grinned sheepishly. IT.. I was looking for IT.. I offered.

I followed her to the information counter with the all-knowing computer. She typed in the author's name - Umar Munshi. I waited with bated breath...

Sold out. No more stock. A shortage.

I could not buy my book because it was sold out. Not only in Popular Bras Basah (the largest outlet), but everywhere except Popular Toa Payoh.

Amazing. I was in awe.

Still, I was in need of copies. I had passed all my publisher copies to my students and had none for myself and my editor. I requested for 7 copies to be reserved. Toa Payoh, here I come.

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