Once a fictional location, China has stolen the name and used it to promote a small city high up on the mountains of Yunan; an ode to Tibet.
Two men begin hacking at the corpses like a butcher with beef. Suddenly a gasp from the onlookers.
We were monkey kings; street dogs running through familiar streets at full tilt, howling and bounding from one scent to the next.
“Impossible,” he laughed. “It’s 60km. It will be dark before 7 o’clock. You will stay there tonight, and tomorrow you go.”
Two months in. I’m lying in bed wrapped in two blankets and a duvet. I slide the balcony door open , kangaroo jump to the bathroom and dump the duvet and blankets on the dusty, tiled floor. Soap in hand, I flick on the shower. It’s freezing. It has been freezing for a week andContinue reading “Haunted Away From Home”
I’ll never live abroad, he said. Twenty-two years old and passing through baggage checks at Heathrow as quickly as I’d accepted the job. The chess pieces wrapped in boxer shorts suddenly feel ridiculous. One half space-saving-piece-protecting-masterstroke, one half inconvenient-lunatic-blunder. I am on my way to Chongqing, China. The city’s name almost sounds racist. Teaching inContinue reading “Going Away to Get Lost”