I am sitting in McDonald’s when I have a thought that entertains me enough to forget to look at my phone for a while. A Nepalese family huddles around a table behind me. I understand nothing but from the pausing and turn-taking I can tell they are telling stories. Inside McDonald’s it is bright and warm. I think about how people used to pay other people to tell stories. How you would judge for cadence and rhyme and figures of speech. How the storytellers themselves were figures of speech. You would not invite them back if they were not good. I am thinking that people did this more before writing was a thing. I finish everything but my fries and step outside because we can eat in public now. The people watching is good in Yau Ma Tei.
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