June 3. For stories about Hue, not here.

We visit the old city of Hue. Since this is a typical torist attraction and unlikely to generate any other story that what you will find by looking for Hue, I will pragmatically change the subject.

And why not? He has been lecturing about reality and related concepts for over fifteen years now. What withheld him from jumping on Gaya’s tempting offer to travel to Africa together, have a lot of sex and use their fortune to give the poorest, most miserable creatures, the shadow creatures as he called them? He couldn’t shoot back immediately, with the precision and hostile contempt he had a decade ago.
“Do you even know what a mortgage costs these days?” leaving the conclusion of involuntary sedentariness to her. Or
“I on the other hand, do have a job.” could silence half a generation. Or

“I am not a professional”, his personal favorite.
He turned away his eyeballs and thought of all those excuses. They had lost their glory, they seemed bleak voiceless birds to him now. He turned his eyeballs the other way, peeped through the eyelashes. What if
“Okay I’ll go.” It seemed to short, to surreal. After all, he had lectured about reality and related concepts. He looked at her, she had taken a waiting position and a glass of water he had forgotten to offer her.
“Well?” she cut the silence in a gentle way, as if she wanted the shreds to be salonfähig. He sighed, obviously, and then blurted out

We board the train to Nha Trang with just enough snacks to keep us going.

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Published by

Kamiel Choi

Dutch philosopher and poet, sometimes sharing thoughts on the internet.

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