Job of a Lifetime

“ Certainly, “ I said. “ It's a very good idea. I'll listen to your advice. Bicycle, was it? “

“ Yes, “ she said. “ Blend in. A motor car distinguishes you at my school. Get a bicycle. I see you have friends waiting for you. You should take them with you. I heard your other friend speaking Vietnamese. Make sure he goes with you. To be a good teacher, Mister Grantley, you must be like the students. If they crawl, you crawl with them, then they learn to walk. “

I understood her logic and that's why I eventually married her.

Jim and John were quick to rent bicycles for us and off into the Vietnamese countryside we went, leaving the noise of Hanoi behind.

Before too soon the roads became dusty, dirty, pocked with holes, and irrigations. We laughed at how much those road jolted our bones.

We stopped at villages, the villagers coming out, speaking to us, telling us where to go, and where not go, offering us their babies at times, freaking us out, always marvelling at the shininess of our bicycles, sunglasses, and watches, touching the fabric of our clothes.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)