Frost forms a dirty
pattern of other peoples fingernail tracings, on the widow to the right. The air is thick and nasty. The people are bundled up in thick winter
clothing, impossible to make out from one to the other. If it were a Yuan dynasty painting by Zhao
Mengfu all this grey might be evocative of something enigmatic and noble. But these aren’t sleepy Daoist mists. There is nothing enigmatic about why the
winter looks this way.
I know its bad when I can’t see the towers of Wang Jing off
to my right. They ought to be there,
right? Just up beyond those trees.
There, now, one hundred meters off the towers are taking shape. It isn’t even December yet. The cold of winter is navigable. But this sickly sweet coal saturated winter
air is dreadful.
This is the light one must always wait three or four times,
before being able to make the left turn.
I am in the turning lane.
Everyone wants to ride ahead, nearly to the light and then cut over into
this lane. Sitting in this lane,
everyone who passes to the right is a potential daemon.
Everyone keeps the distance between themselves and the next car to a
minimum. No one wants to let anyone cut
in. But people try, regardless. Up ahead someone in a minivan has tried to
cut in. I curse aloud in Chinese. I’m livid and wish I could do this person
damage. I imagine exiting and physically
standing in front of any car that might try that with us, right here, in our coveted position.
We are two cars away from having made the light. I cheered us on and cheered us on, “let’s go,
let’s go, let’s go.” We didn’t make
it. Now I will necessarily be ten
minutes late for this lunch meeting. We’re
pinned here, while all the other directions of traffic are accommodated. Minutes that seem like globe-spins later, the light’s turned. We lurched ahead ten meters to occupy the
turning position. Seven other cars have
similarly occupied this staging ground, forcing traffic in both directions to
slow and swerve. Everyone is used to
this. Everyone does what they must, in
the absence of enforcement. Everyone is
important. If I could have a vanity
plate here I’d have “我比你重要.” Everyone in Beijing should be
forced to have this vanity plate.
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