A Weeping Kiss

So there I stood, atop Tiananmen Rostrum, looking at the lights of Tiananmen Square, fully ablaze for a square mile in our honor.

Dinner was done and we had alll been transported here before breaking for the evening. A nice, quiet moment to review the day and plan for tomorrow with a few colleagues.

Periodically, people stopped by to chat and offer a nice word.

Then, I looked up and he was walking over, straight to me. I excused myself, wondering what he was going to scream about this time.

“Bobby, I’m speechless,” he said. Tears rolled down his face. Actually something was coming from his eyes, might have been tears or could very well have been Johnnie Blue.

“When I saw that at the temple. Y’now what I mean? I was the proudest I’ve ever been. Y’now what I mean? You know? You feel me?” (Pointing at his eyes, then hand on his heart) “i mean, you know what I’m saying, right? You know what I’m saying?”

He then grabs my head with both hands, kisses my cheek and pats it, then walks away.

“That was strange,” I said to my colleagues. We leaned on the wall and finished our conversation.