IXTY
-O
NE
This is me, sitting on a row of metal chairs, waiting for my flight to London.
This is me, watching the people around me waiting, walking, boarding.
This is me, listening to the music of the airport announcements, the rise and the fall of the conversations going on around me.
In this moment in time, I am alone.
And I am, somehow, okay with that.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be alone. Who does?
But I think about Elliott Erwitt’s picture, Bratsk Wedding, and the smiling dude.
The gaze directed out of frame, the chin cradled between thumb and forefinger.
I wonder whether it’s my favourite picture not because it’s stories for days, but because the dude, he knows something about himself that nobody else does.
For true, sitting here on my own, I think this is what I am waiting for.
That unmistakeable sense of clarity. That unmistakeable sense of me.
Until then, I am new, here.
And I want to document it.
To remember the significance of it.
To expose a bunch of silver halide crystals to refracted light, through a lens, just for a fraction of a second.
I watch a white businessman as he walks past. Tall, and confident. Strong, and handsome.
And I look at the Asians around me. Why are they so nerdy?
Anyway, where was I?
I lean over to the man sitting next to me, and I offer up my camera.
Do you mind? I say.
English, I say. Speak English?
As he raises my camera to his face, I say, Cheese.
The man though, he’s got a puzzled look on his face. He’s pushing and pushing the shutter button, but for some reason it won’t budge.
I watch him frown, I watch him study the camera with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.
And I think to myself that, of course, I am out of film.
A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Much love and gratitude:
Andrew Wille, ambassador of the non-grasp, whose teaching, guidance and support made this novel what it is, and me a better writer.
Zoe Ross, for her unwavering belief in this book and her artful feedback on the manuscript.
Kaiya Shang, for just getting it, and for her energy, passion and insight.
Chris White, for taking the reins so seamlessly and being such a pleasure to work with.
Olivia Davies, for holding the fort with such sensitivity and deftness.
Ella Fox-Martens, for her meticulous work on the manuscript.
Everyone at United Agents and Scribner UK.
Jack Smyth, for the stunning cover art.
Robert Dinsdale, for telling me to have a go at writing a novel, and for the continued advice and encouragement.
