Left of the middle.

I was on the road with a superior today, heading to a tailor in Tiong Bahru to get my uniform made. On the way back, he was unsure of the directions back to camp - that was when we realised we both lived in the North-east - the west was practically foreign. So I consulted the street directory, trying to get ourselves out of Clementi and onto the highway. Which way to turn, left or right? At this junction? Or the next? I am not a huge fan of topography, and decided to let my intuition lead the way. My intuition rarely let me down.

"Turn left now," I said.

Yet in my heart, I thought something was wrong. But I didn't know why I said that. I sounded so confident, so assured. It was a left turn two junctions early. We ended up on the wrong road and had to make an alternative route to get to the right avenue. The traffic was hell. And we made a scrap on the side of the car while making a U-turn.
I looked at the directory closely this time, the shapes that stretched into a haywire of colours all seemed like Greek slowly making sense. My intuition could have taken a shorter time, I thought to myself. We've been going round the same road signs and the thunderstorm is approaching. "Alright, turn right after the bridge at the traffic light."
We were soon on the highway.

Life is easier with directions.
But of late, my intuition kept letting me down.
My heart seems to be bringing me to the wrong places.