Night Flight From Guangzhou

Night Flight From Guangzhou

I take out my notebook. The pages are full: temples and egg burgers, tea hills and brick-walled cafes, a girl in green velvet, sandalwood incense, a monk’s woodblock at 4:16 AM. I have written all of it. I have carried it with me, across this country, across this night. Now I close the notebook. I slip it into my bag. I lean back in my seat. Continue reading Night Flight From Guangzhou

On the Buses

On the Buses

But the journey. The journey is still the same. The sense of moving through a landscape that is still, in some deep way, unfamiliar to me. The small thrill of stepping onto a bus and trusting it to take me somewhere I have never been; or back to a place I know well. That trust is easier now. The bus will not break down. The driver will not lose control. The windows will not fall out. It is safer. It is cleaner. It is, in almost every way, better. Continue reading On the Buses

Heat and Dust

Heat and Dust

On the overpasses, cars crawl through the mirage, each one a sealed bubble of air-conditioned defiance. But the city doesn’t care. The heat is indifferent, eternal. It radiates from the concrete, rises in waves from the road, presses down from above: a three-dimensional sauna of light and dust. Somewhere behind all that sun-glare, the desert waits, unchanged and unimpressed. Continue reading Heat and Dust