| Power outage! Suddenly, my computer
| |
| | it...I walk further...into the main
|
| crackles and the screen blacks out. That
| |
| | shopping area and notice more
|
| means I can neither write nor browse the
| |
| | flower-sellers as they push their wares
|
| internet nor check to see if I have any
| |
| | into the faces of couples...they don't
|
| interesting emails or Valentine's Day
| |
| | bother me...single men with beards have
|
| wishes. I pull on my thick winter jacket
| |
| | no need for flowers on Valentine's Day,
|
| and step out of my apartment. Might as
| |
| | they probably reason. I ignore them as
|
| well go see the sights of Huainan on this
| |
| | they did me. Tat for tit!Crowds swell in
|
| special lovers' day, I tell myself as I
| |
| | the prelunch hour as I stroll singing my
|
| step out the door of my sanctuary.The
| |
| | song that no one seems to hear or
|
| stairwell windows are frosted. I wonder
| |
| | understand if they do. I hope some pretty
|
| if that means it's warmer outside than
| |
| | girl will smile at me and push her arm
|
| inside. As I step out the glass doors of
| |
| | into mine. No one does...my song lies
|
| the building that houses us guests I
| |
| | wasted like some flowers will
|
| sense the balmy warmth that spring
| |
| | tomorrow...thrown onto the pavement
|
| welcomes all life with. Yes, spring is in
| |
| | following a quarrel or whatever. At least
|
| the air! I recall hearing the birds, the
| |
| | my song lies wasted without a quarrel, I
|
| few that have not ended up on dinner
| |
| | console myself.Valentine's day seems to
|
| plates and soup bowls, chirping excitedly
| |
| | be big all over China. They already had
|
| to their mates. Perhaps, something tells
| |
| | their own and now have an extra one, an
|
| them, too, it's Valentine's Day! I smile
| |
| | import. Well, I suppose, appetites are
|
| to myself, thinking how many eggs will
| |
| | growing and celebrations need to keep
|
| lie waiting in little nests atop branches
| |
| | pace with them. I walk on...until I find
|
| a few weeks from now. 'Love is in the
| |
| | myself at the glass doors of the building
|
| air, love is in the streets, love is on
| |
| | that houses me and my kind...I climb up
|
| the trees...' I compose a song and hum to
| |
| | the four flights and enter my apartment.
|
| myself. A few hundred metres away, I
| |
| | Power is back and, thankfully, it got
|
| unzip my jacket - it feels hot inside
| |
| | there before I did, I think to myself. I
|
| those padded jackets.Every few metres
| |
| | switch on the computer and wait as it
|
| there's someone selling roses and
| |
| | hums and crackles back to life.I log onto
|
| assorted flowers. I pass by a florist's
| |
| | a chatsite and wish everyone a Happy
|
| and notice they have extended their shop
| |
| | Valentine's Day. No one responds, except
|
| onto the pavement for the day and will
| |
| | one, with a 'where are you from?''My
|
| probably overcharge every customer, too.
| |
| | mother's pu--y', I want to answer out of
|
| Some flowers have the ends of their
| |
| | sheer pique, but desist. It's Lover's
|
| petals dipped in silver and gold, adding
| |
| | Day! Perhaps, on a Lover's Day such as
|
| sheen to the already beautiful...like a
| |
| | this, I was planted. 'Love is in the air,
|
| sexy siren that paints her lips, darkens
| |
| | love is in the streets, love is on the
|
| her eyelashes and adds some glitter to
| |
| | trees...' I hum to myself, 'love is
|
| her cheeks and temples...They - the
| |
| | everywhere...but where on earth am
|
| flowers look beautiful...and I touch one
| |
| | I...'Rajesh Kanoi (Jack) is a published
|
| to see if it's real or fake. There's so
| |
| | writer, now living and working in China.
|
| much fake stuff around these days. It's
| |
| | Many of his short-stories, poems and
|
| real! I want to buy a few...but feel
| |
| | articles have been published, including a
|
| silly buying flowers and strolling
| |
| | book of short-stories, 'Tales From China'
|
| aimlessly around, a bunch in hand with
| |
| | (Lipstick Publishing).
|
| no one to give them to and decide against
| |
| |
|