Richard Giang

Routes

Silky. That’s quite literally the only word I could conjure up to interpret the way the air felt on my way to Uncle Yip’s (he’s not actually my Uncle, but my older sister Jivani always called him uncle so of course, I did, too). I couldn’t think of any other words because the ride on my bike over was dreamy. So much so, I felt the calmness seep from my spine as the sun hit my face as I arrived at the top of the biggest hill on the route. In the little pause as I set the tip of my foot down to gain momentary balance I nearly drifted off. The sound of a couple local grandmas loudly chirping about the local market fish prices snapped me to.