![]() ![]() An occasional American would glance at him, especially one who remembered the half-caste heritage of Vietnam, but then he would look away almost at once. ![]() ![]() Scarcely anybody took notice of the slight, thin-wristed boy with the old-fashioned bicycle. ![]() Sometimes he had to half-lift the bicycle onto his left shoulder to get around crates of chickens, bales of batik and baskets of snake-skinned salak fruit. Occasionally people would move out of the way for him, but more often he was forced to hop down from the saddle that was far too high for him and manhandle the bicycle through the crowds like a young cowboy trying to wrestle an obstinate steer. Whenever Michael found himself obstructed by early evening diners clustered around the warong stands with their white china bowls of fried noodles, he furiously jangled his bell. It was the monsoon season, hot and cloudy, and there were no stars. He steered his antiquated Rudge between the shuffling crowds of tourists and shoppers, between the jumbled arrangement of stalls lit with hundreds and hundreds of glass-funnelled gaslights. Death Trance Graham Masterton PROLOGUE Bali, 1981 It was just after eight o'clock in the evening when Michael came cycling through the night market. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |