EXAMPLE PAGE - EBOOKS - THE PROMISE OF THE TEA GODS - Flipbook - Page 13
the promise of the tea-gods
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eyes—the superior language; a silence that has no secrets. But this is
not the land of eye contact. People tend to look down or away—kind of
like leaving before you’ve arrived.
Hmm . . . I like winning. Receiving the medal. Wearing the crown.
Who doesn’t? A successful son is the prayer of every mother in this
country, and I could fill a room with proof-of-achievement—degrees,
awards, trophies, more than a few good songs, loyal fans. Spotlights and
paychecks, a full barrel of rice and a comfortable life—there’s no
greater proof than that . . . Although, I’m not sure I like stardom. Well,
I do like it. But I like privacy. And I like solitude. And space. But I also
like sharing the privacy, sharing the solitude, sharing the space. It
doesn’t make sense—the alone life and the shared life—but it’s one of
those unexplainable things where the singular and the plural have a
blurred line between them.
And? . . . I like pretty girls, especially the ones who don’t turn twenty
shades of red when I quietly set my wineglass on the table and start
lighting candles. Intimacy, after all, is like breathing—it’s life-sustaining. No way to tell though if the journey will last for one night or one
lifetime—none of us really knows what road we’re on, so we should
enjoy them all, short or long . . . But, truthfully, I know nothing about
the long, winding road of everlasting love. My candlelit roads tend to
be short, like a flash of gold—the quick and lovely path to nowhere. But
I always move on. Quietly setting my wineglass on the table, I just strike
another match and keep going.
I don’t like letting go, but I can do it if I have to . . . I’d love to live
inside a love song that’s real. And I . . . Geez, Binnie, this is a terrible
game. It’s making me feel lonely. And I hate feeling lonely. So that’s it
for me. Game over . . . Now what?
Music, he quickly decided, picking up his phone and scrolling
through the playlists he had saved. Music is better than a game that does
nothing but make you feel lonely. Let’s see . . . there, that one: Prelude
to a Dream. I like this list. Whoever put it together has an amazing sense
of what peaceful sounds like. It works like a charm. Last time I listened
to it, I was asleep before I got to the eleventh song—so I’ll just start
