April 6, 1993 • Storytelling

I thought I was going to dive head and palms first into Hong Kong harbor. But I didn’t. Instead, I recovered on my backside and only my ego was bruised. I looked up at my little brother and saw him staring at me. I think he knew he almost killed me. I think he wanted to kill me but at the last minute changed his mind. Now he was scared that it almost happened. He was crying so loud I had to hit him in the stomach to make him stop. I looked down at my dress. My lovely pink dress with white trim now covered with fish stains where I had wiped my bleeding palms. I was not happy about this at all. But I was scared, too, so I didn’t say anything for the duration of the ride to Macau. Nearly half an hour had passed before either one of us spoke again and then it was as if nothing had happened. We laughed at the wrinkled women by the shore, waist deep in sea water, washing laundry. I thought about my soiled new dress and wondered if I could wash it in the sea.


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