on
8/10/2002
In China, a cab man won't go because he would run over a bowl.
In second grade, I was taught that the Chinese believe that everything has a soul. I had so many stuffed animals, and creatures, and figures. When we left a bear at a motel, my sister and I cried for half an hour. I didn't give them personalities, but they were all individuals. At one time, I had a whole city in my room, with two radio stations. I could never throw anything away. What if I needed it? What if it had a soul? Did all those personalities just stop being when I grew older, or are they still here, in Maine, when I return home?
How can I make it through life empathizing with the rice bowl?
Touch the Toast