Eating at the Fancy Shanghai Restaurant

we go into because we are foreign, and there is everything left.
we’ve walked the streets: pomegranates, candied apples on
sticks, fish heads cut into blocks and sold, their jelly eyes
lifted toward our bellies. we’ve walked the indoor markets,
too: touched kites, their knotted strings. toy planes that brandish
their luminous wings. we see skinny insects chirping inside
cages and do not release them with our money, which could
buy a whole well here,
a merchant calls out. which could buy
a whole horse here, if we wanted to. we don’t want to.

Want to read the rest?
Please login.
New to Narrative? sign up.
It's easy and free.
The password field is case sensitive. Account & Password Help.