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TROUT [ 2 ] |
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Macau, 1897 It is a traveller's habit, finding the familiar in the new. Security in discovery. We met an Englishwoman on the island; she warned of skewers and mickey finns. Outside the monsoon rain muffles all sound. I listen for rats, know they listen for me. The lithograph is a mirror, the air too opaque to allow me to pass from one room to another. So I remain, uncertain what to take, what to leave behind.
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