THEY SAT THERE, JUST the two of them, in silence for the longest time before either of them spoke, but even before the bearded man sitting in the field by his side said anything, Liao recognized his surroundings. It was a strange sensation, seeing him this way. It was as if he was there, a child again, living out the endless eternity of childhood once again, and yet seeing it as an adult observer through the eyes of many years of experience. This man that was his father, and yet not. Together they sat, silently looking at the stars that shone overhead.
Perhaps, Liao thought to himself, the man who was the observer, perhaps that is what has brought this memory to the surface: the similarity of the two nights and the two cloudless, moonless skies. He watched the older man, both as observer
