The Pain of Things Left Unsaid

The pain of things left unsaid

It was my last day in Hong Kong and I hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to Dee.

We’d only met up once during my visit and I was doing my final walk back up the shoreline path in Lamma. Lamma, with its narrow paths and hustling stalls on either side.

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The Shops by Hammersmith and Main

Mao Senior and I had an argument. It was nothing new. I left the house although it was already dark and took the Hammersmith Road back to the main street.

And I wasn’t familiar with the area, the houses bound tight together, like where the Jovanović‘s lived. At the end of the road, I turned right onto Main where the shops too, were packed side by side.

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Bus Stops are Dangerous

Bus stops are dangerous

I am walking by a couple at the gym who are arguing.

The wife yells at the man, “We come all the way to this country and you have to go fuck that Algerian at the bus station!”

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Saboteur Needs to be Killed with a Needle

Killing the saboteur with a needle

I had a needle to kill the saboteur with.

It was sharp and needed to be oiled but after Siobhan had broken it, it was replaced by a thicker Cleopatra style needle which had a base that was inserted into a thin plastic case which acted as a sheath. The case contained the oil but I kept the new needle and sheath apart for closer to the time.

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Throwing Sandwiches Doesn’t Do Any Good

Throwing sandwiches

I was sitting with Georgie when it was time to go. This was after cleaning up the avocado sandwich that I threw at the wall.

We were seated in deck chairs outside, in a garden with fake grass, and I had made the sandwich earlier with the only ingredients I could find. A piece of white bread, a thick slice of pâté, cut, but placed in one solid chunk on the bread. Then the avocado buttered on top.

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