RECORD, MARK, RECALL

When I got to Chinatown and lit up my pipe to wait for the bookseller I noticed a raccoon ambling along the balcony of the building opposite and checking the windows, trying to get in. Warmth, food, and the company of humans, were probably what it was looking for. Humans are a source of food, and well-known for warmth. 嘩，好可愛啊 ('wa hou ho oi ah'; "oh, how cute") it probably expected little kiddies in one of the apartments to say. Before their mom screamed 狂犬病 ('kong huen peng'; "rabies"), and chased it out again. Giving the small children barely enough time to stuff some snacks into it's little hands and whisper instructions to come back after the tiresome adults had fallen asleep, so that they could play pirate.

Sadly, it did not manage to gain access.

It was not tempted by my tobacco.


It was cold enough outside that I can well understand the creature's search for warmth. I had a sweater on myself as well as a coat, so no cause to complain -- which I seldom do in any case -- and thoroughly enjoyed a short hour's smoke near a branch of my bank. Chinatown tends to be quiet at that time, till you get close to the karaoke bar, when discordant sounds become evident.

When I had left my apartment building, my landlady and several of her kinfolk were sitting at the table in the foyer, talking. John, her husband, had passed away last night after coming home from the hospital two weeks ago. Which I find very sad; he was an extremely nice man, quite intelligent, with a quirky sense of humour. They made a lovely couple.
I miss him. I hope she is well.


I do not know what to say in situations like this. And I say it badly.
Consequently I shall probably skulk for a few weeks.
I lack certain social competences.
Dammit.



Yes, the singing at the karaoke joint when we got there was bad. Some people sound like angry wild animals when they have the stage, others are wounded rhinos bellowing in pain. Who knew that their existential fears and self-doubt could be so unpleasantly expressed?


Truth be told, I find karaoke an appalling art form.
Rohrschach blots made audible.


There was a gibbering loony at the bus stop on the way home.
That, at least, was entertaining.




==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================