Ready, set, g—
I think we’re supposed to be moving. Yes, we’re moving. But where? Across a busy street where soft, long, golden leaves inaudibly crunch. Forward, out through a passageway beside brambles out to an open space where I can look out and see Taichung City down the hill of green grass. There’s just a moment to appreciate the sight. Gray, dignified gravestones are scattered down the slope. The sky is a mix of gray and sunlit blue. Time flies…
Onto the flat immaculate gray-stone sidewalk I go, then down a slope through a park where I hear birds chirping. That cross-country memory of that inhale-inhale-exhale breathing pattern somewhere between exhaustion and comfort resurfaces. The memories of birds chirping in the summer in the early morning in that time when the sun hasn’t yet risen. I can barely hear the cars, the machines rolling by on the street above. But on I go, and I say goodbye to that place forever and down alongside the cars and then across the street next to a frame of a yet-to-be-building in view of the harbor.
Up, down, up, down, some people stare at the sweaty Westerners as we run by, taking shortcuts through the leafy grass and finally back onto the sidewalk, through the brightly colored Chinese archway onto a paved road through tall grass, to the end of the journey, and before long, a feast.
…and Taiwan Beer!