Some Rumors from Chang Kong City

There’s nothing special about Changkong City.

I’ve said this to a lot of people. To my college classmates, to my coworkers, and to people from elsewhere who asked where I was from.

But it isn’t true.

There are things in Changkong City that I’ve never told anyone about.

When I was little, I thought they were normal.

Every city has a river you mustn’t go near, an orchard you mustn’t enter, and a cabinet that won’t open.

Every city has questions you’re not allowed to ask and corners children aren’t allowed to approach.

I thought that was how the world worked: everything seemed normal on the surface, while plenty of things happened quietly in the dark.

Later, I grew up and left Changkong City. I went south, and to many other places.

I began to realize that other places didn’t have these things. Or, rather, they had different versions of them.

People everywhere think their own city is normal.

So there’s nothing special about Changkong City. Like everywhere else, beneath its normal surface are a few abnormal [cracks].

It took me many years to slowly understand what lived inside those [cracks].

This book is about those [cracks].

Now I’m writing them down. Not because I want you to believe they’re real. Quite the opposite: I suggest you think they’re all made up.