The Golden Walk

I'm just helping out with the equipment, I said. We're about to go live. You're excused. And I reached up to the golden walk that hung on the sign above the stage and peeled off its yellow wrap to reveal a scarred, battle-tested walk. Then I went back into the crowd to watch with everyone else. From the crowd, I watched the blue flame of the burner reflected in Auntie Ping's eyes. The way her wrist flicks the walk up. Studying the motion like you'd watch a master painter draw a line. But for that moment it tastes like home. A home you always remember and have never been able to go to.