Townhouse

In high school, my gang included the mulatto Jamaican Graeme, the intellectual Russian-Scot Kenneth, the Hokkien-speaking Chinese-Filipino Philip, and myself. We often ate lunch together. We played video games and computer games. Our favourite board game was Risk, whose objective was land conquest. Graeme lived in a townhouse complex with a nice swimming pool, in which we swam.

At the end of last month, May of 2014, Bratislav, of Croatian descent, had left the Lulu Island neighbourhood, he having bought a new house and abandoning his slender townhouse. One of our last meetings in the neighbourhood was at the Rideau School field. We discussed plenty. Russia and China had been "State Capitalist" regimes and not "Communist" as they claimed to be. There was an alien "spacecraft" hovering invisibly above the grassy field; oh no, it was some kind of "portal"; oh no, it was an "incorporeal being." Many East Asian logograms, or "Sinograms," had a categorizing radical along with a hinting phonetic radical; they were not all pictographic. Daoists, I said, liked to be like a simple driftwood. There were aliens aplenty, Bratislav repeated. That day on the field last month, the thousands of dandelions were abundant with cloudy tufts of their soon-to-fly seeds.