“I can do both,” Lucas said. So there we were, the three of us sitting on the back of the beast with our hands wrapped in lengths of cable. The tables are on balconies hanging down, with steep stairs that make it easy to spill pho on a customer. Opportunities to eat in a restaurant being rare along the disintegrating remains of what was grandiosely called the Trans-Siberian Highway, Victor pulled over his bike and they went inside.
Perhaps, he wondered, it was time to move to a more salubrious climatic region. The elephants across the river stared back. “Once, I told somebody what I saw in that guy. She has alcohol on her breath and her hands shake, but her eyes, although a little bloodshot, are intelligent and alert.
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