| |
Lana Hayaak
––––––––
Rain showers drenched the city, while thunder erupted in the distance. Lightning pierced the dark sky belying the fact that it was only mid-afternoon.
I love October because there are generally plenty of horror films on TV, even in Shanghai with our limited cable selection. However, the only thing on today was a lewd comedy called Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo.
I heard Rob Schneider’s character exclaim, “How did you get that job? I’m going to kill my guidance counselor,” as I cuddled Peter and reflected on a dream:
I was trapped in a burning building in Eastern Europe. I ran through the hall towards a closed window, but couldn’t get it open. When I looked out the window, I saw my parents in the streets. They looked up but didn’t see me.
Peter nipped my leg, which disrupted my thoughts. I stood up, walked to the kitchen and fed my cat his dinner.
I dressed impatiently because I had a busy evening planned. First, I had to stop by the Expat Women’s Club to visit friends. Then I was supposed to meet the person who had left the cryptic note in my locker.