A Reluctant Road When you step through the gates of the Old City don’t be offended, because you stand out. Aromatic Jasmine tea, sipped by you so often, will seem like the first taste, to the passing wide-eyed pedlar. Or walk in the Summer Palace, hawkers with cow hide faces, will haggle with you for cheap tat. Don’t pretend, the laughing Buddha who pisses heavenward, never tempted you. Don’t blame the waiter who kowtows to your chopstick skills. He wasn’t to know, a lifetime of noodles have passed through your hands. When you recall the Old City, be happy you lived it once. Even if that photo of you with the half-hearted smile under a plum blossom tree, is the only proof. Maeve Heneghan
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