Abdul was a smart cookie.

I suspected he worked for special intelligence.

‘Nothing surprises me,’ said Bernie, ‘ in Asia, everything is fluid.’

I was looking forward to some  fluid myself.

East Java. We weren’t in Kansas anymore.

‘Kansas has moved to East Java.’ Bernhard was driving back and taking in the landscape.

What can I say about East Java, from white beaches to mountains, only within twenty minutes of each other.

‘You aren’t a travel writer,’ said Bernie, who rudely reminded me that we had  a meeting with Jovine and her two nieces.

‘And me,’ said Beni, who hooned past us in his pick up.

We had lots to catch up.

‘Not really,’ said Beni, who was sitting at our table and enjoying an avocado milk smoothie laced with chocolate. ‘This is just normal for us, and once you adjust, it won’t seem to so strange to you either.’

Fitri and Adul were wearing tight black Hooter T-shirts. Those contours could almost match Mt. Ijien in their beautiful symmetry.

‘Now that’s a nice one,’ said  Bernie, ‘there’s potential for you yet.’




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