Words.

I met that old man just now. My neighbour. He smiled, and chatted with me. he had just gone out to buy lunch. Lunch for one person. He was alone. it seemed to me as though he was trying to be happy, trying to be unaffected. Yet, I saw that the sockets of his eyes were hollowed out, deepened from those sleepless nights. I could see that he had not shaved, for there was fresh stubble on his chin. Had he forgotten? Or had someone stopped reminding him? Or did he stop bothering anymore simply because it doesn’t matter anymore? He tried to keep up the conversation and appearances, but I stumbled. I did not know how to translate my English thoughts into Hokkien. And to think that we were talking about translation. Then we said goodbye. He turned, and shuffled back to his door, whist I lingered at the threshold of my door, contemplating his hunched back and drooping head, that seemed alot lower than the week before.