Hongwei Bao

Isn’t this what we alwaysdo in a strange city? Beforewe leave the hotel, I studyan A to Z, check google map,try to remember all the streetnames, every twist and turn.You type the destinationin a search engine, press ‘go’,and follow it like a religion.We stay on the pavement, side-tracked by this or that shop, lostin signs we can’t decipher.The city opens its heart to us,traffic … [Read more...] about Tourists, By: Hongwei Bao

Soft Play is anything but soft – it’s hard     as rock. Bodies as instruments and tattoos as skinwear, Isaac and Laurie     burst into fireworks of their lives. On the floor, an ocean of fans. Suddenly,     a stir. A young lad, topless, face up and legs apart, emerges on the horizon,     moving swiftly like a sea lion. Another, a third, then a young lass. A … [Read more...] about Crowd Surfing at Rock City, By: Hongwei Bao

OneChristmas,Mum asks meto read out my prize-winning poem from the schoolwriting competition. Obviously, she’svery proud of me, more than I am of myself.My uncle and aunt stop talking, all eyes on me.My cousin opens his big mouth, showing crooked teeth,as if to say, you are done for. Now I’m standing in front ofthe Christmas tree, the one Mum struggled to get out of the loftthe … [Read more...] about Christmas Tree, By: Hongwei Bao

In the morning, waking me up with piercing alarms,as if the whole building was on fire. Alexa calmly announces:‘There’s nothing scheduled for the day.’I wish my boss would say the same thing.In the evening: ‘Now, here’s local news.’Dead silence. Perhaps she sees nothing important worth mentioningShe then moves on to weather forecast:‘It will be dry tomorrow but there will be … [Read more...] about The Life Philosophy Of Alexa, By: Hongwei Bao

No matter what big cuisine or delicatessen I’ve hadduring the day. At midnight and in the darkI’d feel my way to the kitchen. Sharp eyes of an owl,homing instinct of a pigeon. Digging in the pantryfor pot noodles I’ve recently bought. Kettle on. Water boiling. White steamevaporates in the air.The smell, the taste, transports meto another time, another place. The childhood … [Read more...] about Pot Noodle, By: Hongwei Bao