Postcards from the edge

Postcards from the edge
Tales of (mis)adventure from abroad



china stamp

I never figured it out: how come the image on the ice-cream wrapping NEVER corresponded to what was actually inside? However, the popsicle I was consuming was not the big mystery here. I was, obviously. I had gotten used to the stares after several weeks in the middle kingdom, but this was beyond anything I had experienced so far. The man had jumped on top of my table, squatted, and leaned towards me; his face was inches away from mine. He was staring straight into my eyes. Could he actually see the white devil hiding behind this agreeable human-like appearance?


There are 2 comments.

  1. comment number 1 by: marc antoine kelertas

    dude you got to stop doing this hole suspence thing it kills me everytime…i guess thats the point right …haha you keep you coming back everytime ….soo what the hell happen next ..did he suck ur soul out or tell you your future…what happened? tell me tell me

  2. comment number 2 by: Yannick

    Well this time, not much happened. He actually stayed like that not moving, not saying a word and just staring, until I finished my ice-cream. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, my table was surrounded by people staring, so I tried to ignore him (and them), like if he wasn’t there…it was…hmmm…awkward.

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