While I was peeling garlic, Minnie, my reliable front-door dog, rose unsteadily on her arthritic legs and launched into her heavy-throated barking. Someone was outside.
I waited for a knock. None came.
Refreshing my lipstick so I didn’t look like I felt, I went to the door.
Leaning heavily and somewhat unsteadily against the spare wheel of my battered ’93 Suzuki was a slim man with tousled hair. He wore a skinny-legged black suit and white open-necked shirt with a pair of long-toed shoes that curled upwards, as I imagined Aladdin’s did.
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- Tags: Issue 19, Laos, Mekong River, Melody Kemp