The Heartsick Diaspora

He couldn’t sleep. He lay tossing and turning on his thin pallet inside the mosquito netting. Finally, rising from bed, he picked up a sliver of wood and began whittling. In the past, he used to make miniature animal carvings out of these discarded pieces of wood for fun. To give to Mei. She kept a collection of his miniature carvings on the sill next to her bed; she’d stroke them with her pinky and say that when she had children, she’d give each of them one. ‘You plan to have lots of kids then, huh, since there are at least twenty up there?’ How Mei had blushed and laughed. ‘Ge, don’t tease me. I will give half to my future sister-in-law, for her children.’ Then it was his turn to blush and laugh.