Waiting for Disciples

The dilapidated shops in the old town have dripping faucets, air leaks from the windows, and shaky wooden benches. I guarded this room numbly, neither welcoming nor seeing off, neither happy nor sad. People who come and go are all waiting. There is no climax, no closed loop, and no deliberate design. There are only slices of the flowing market, and the unspoken ordinary waiting hidden in the fireworks.