I am sitting on a rail trolley and someone is pulling me towards the sun.
The blinding light is burning my eyes and all senses are numbed. Logic is lost when the only thing you worry about is where you are being pulled.
The henchman in the gold Trenchcoat glitters in the sun. Will he bring me to the promised land or eternal doom? What does the promised land even look like?
The wheels are squeaking and slowly we are making our way, somewhere, I guess…
I have accepted my fate. I could stand up and walk, but in which direction? Should I run ahead of the henchman or go the other way? Maybe the henchman knows better? Maybe there is a bigger plan, or is he just trotting along the rails? I mean, rails go somewhere.
I lie down on the rail trolley and rest my head on the wooden planks.
“Hey Mr Golden Henchman, what’s your name”
“I am you, Papa Shanghai”