28Weng clings to the railing. His memories have been troubling him ever since Mrs Chang, unaware of his past with Ping, told him that Ping was coming back to stay with her for two months. Maybe he should have told her then. But why trawl up the past when the past is gone? Let it go; let it go; don’t cling. That’s the mantra he’s struggling to live by.
The bamboo flute is smooth and cool in his hand. It’s his first flute, that precious gift from his father when he was a sad, silent boy after his mother’s death. Since then, he has acquired a large collection, including a specially crafted dizi that he uses for his concerts. But his first flute is still among his favourites, and the one that he plays each year to commemorate his parents’ death and the squatters’ protest.
All for the music.
