Status Updates From Little Reunions

‘White wax sealed the chaos inside her—on the surface—calm and secure—she remembered nothing from that year—did her best to walk—against the tide of humanity—going against the tide of the times—moved at a glacial pace—he wrote in an article “The person I yearn for is like a lotus flower—rootless—leafless—bright light floating in the darkness.” Is this déjà vu, or is the mysterious future linked to the past?'

‘—pomegranate—seeds—like little red crystal dice—she used the kernels to make an array of soldiers—placed the peach-pink paper band wrapped around the lid of the fruit basket under her bed—represent the muddy waters—that runs through Nanking—She always felt like a foreigner—even in China—because of her isolation—like a tree— indistinctly blossoming tiny flowers in— lamplight—peek at his world through the glass pane—’

‘Maugham’s stories—In her eyes—nonsense—she suspected it was all an act—Penang girls teased each other—as they were passing the Catholic cemetery at Happy Valley—THIS DAY MY MORTAL REMAINS TO NATIVE SOIL RETURN JUST AS ONE DAY YOU TOO WILL FOLLOW—That tone evoked the style of—overseas Chinese—hint of eerie humour in the face of death—boys lugged—burlap sack—of black bread issued by the Air Raid Defense Headquarters—’

‘She was Shanghainese but here the lingua franca was—English/Cantonese. Mainlanders shunned speaking Mandarin & Shanghainese in public—The sunlight—baked—red flowers in the blue ceramic flowerpots—bleached the sea to a faded hue, like old blue linen—voices & countenances of the two women did not reveal what was on their minds—Cantonese men have unique features—tortoiseshell-framed spectacles adorned his broad face—’