You go out of your residence.  No keys?  Okay.  Call?  Did you lose it?  It doesn’t matter.  In just four minutes, you’re already at the park.  You can choose to go barefoot or wear slippers that flutter like tired bird wings.  That’s Coastal Cabana EC.  Not a dream from a brochure.  True.  The kind of spot where salt gets in your hair even if you don’t swim.  The wind doesn’t whisper; it cries “vacation” every time you open a window.  And yes, someone really did grill fish on their balcony last Sunday.  It smelled like being a kid.  Like liberty.

 Pasir Ris Park isn’t “nearby.”  It’s like an extra room in your house.  Your kids don’t say, “Can we go to the beach?”  They want to know, “Why are we still inside?”  Crabs run about under boardwalks.  Monkeys look at your snacks like they want to steal them.  Once, a guy tried to feed a squirrel.  Wrong.  He waves from a distance now, like they’re old enemies.  East of Downtown?  Just past the trees.  Movies.  A food court that never closes.  That store that is open 24 hours a day and where the auntie knows what you want for bubble tea.  You could live here without being able to see.  Probably would, but the view is too good.

 The apartments?  Made for folks who don’t like fuss.  Tall ceilings.  Windows that let light in like a wave.  Some units have such good cross-ventilation that you forget what “stuffy” implies.  There is enough room on the balconies for a folding table, two stools, and a cranky cat to keep an eye on your coffee.  I noticed a couple eating toast outside around six in the morning.  Did not talk.  I just saw the sky become pink.  It was like a scene from a movie.  But it’s real.  No filtering.  No staging.  Just peace and kaya on the side.

 People here don’t merely live together.  They cross over.  Mrs. Tan downstairs plants pandan leaves in plastic bottles.  They give them away like candy.  Teenagers help their older neighbors carry groceries without being asked.  Every week, people play badminton on the roof.  The loser buys beverages.  It was Mr. Lim last week.  He came with sugarcane juice and said it was the wind’s fault.  He said, “It fooled my serve!”  We thought it was funny.  Then played again.

 There is no pretense here.  No bullshit that is gold-plated.  Just a simple beat.  Take a walk to dinner.  Run past the mangroves.  Sleep to the sound of ceiling fans.  The gym isn’t anything special.  But what about the pool?  Long.  Be quiet.  Great for early morning laps before everyone else wakes up.  Or floating while you think about the drama from yesterday.  Either way is OK.  They don’t sell a way of life here.  It gives you room to grow your own.  No stress.  No sound.  Life is just like the tide, running smoothly.