What Could Have Been
The wharf creaked beneath me like an old man with secrets in his bones. Midnight had come and gone, but I wasn’t ready to follow it. The fog rolled in off the bay, thick and low, swallowing the lights and softening the sharp edges of the world — the kind of night that forgets your name if you stand still too long.
I lit a cigarette, though I didn’t really want one. Just something to hold between my fingers. Something to do besides think.
Rosie Feng. The recipe. The mess I’d chased through alleys, back rooms, and bullet holes. All of it had slipped through my hands like steam off a soup bowl — hot, fragrant, and gone before you ever really grasp it.
I thought about what could’ve been. A quiet dinner in the back of the Wok and Awe. Her laugh echoing off the bamboo walls. A bottle of warm sake between us and no one shooting at anything. I’d have paid good money for that scene. Hell, I might’ve even believed in something again.
But this city doesn’t deal in happy endings. Just late nights and long shadows. The best you get is surviving — and if you're lucky, surviving with style.
I stared out at the dark water, cigarette burning low. Somewhere out there, the Jade Scorpion was a rusting shell, its secrets gone cold. Somewhere out there, General Lo was starting over with a new name and an old soul. Somewhere out there, Rosie was sleeping — or trying to — wrapped in memories that smelled like sesame oil and regret.
And me?
I was just a gumshoe in a wrinkled coat, talking to ghosts and waiting for the next knock at the door.
Somewhere, the fly was probably still buzzing around my office.
And the world turned.
Just without the won ton.
Because in the end, all a man like me ever really gets… is the silence that follows what could have been.
______________________
If you liked this adventure it can be viewed in its entirety here:
www.flickr.com/photos/buffdawgus/albums/72177720323103613
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio and Lightroom Classic.
What Could Have Been
The wharf creaked beneath me like an old man with secrets in his bones. Midnight had come and gone, but I wasn’t ready to follow it. The fog rolled in off the bay, thick and low, swallowing the lights and softening the sharp edges of the world — the kind of night that forgets your name if you stand still too long.
I lit a cigarette, though I didn’t really want one. Just something to hold between my fingers. Something to do besides think.
Rosie Feng. The recipe. The mess I’d chased through alleys, back rooms, and bullet holes. All of it had slipped through my hands like steam off a soup bowl — hot, fragrant, and gone before you ever really grasp it.
I thought about what could’ve been. A quiet dinner in the back of the Wok and Awe. Her laugh echoing off the bamboo walls. A bottle of warm sake between us and no one shooting at anything. I’d have paid good money for that scene. Hell, I might’ve even believed in something again.
But this city doesn’t deal in happy endings. Just late nights and long shadows. The best you get is surviving — and if you're lucky, surviving with style.
I stared out at the dark water, cigarette burning low. Somewhere out there, the Jade Scorpion was a rusting shell, its secrets gone cold. Somewhere out there, General Lo was starting over with a new name and an old soul. Somewhere out there, Rosie was sleeping — or trying to — wrapped in memories that smelled like sesame oil and regret.
And me?
I was just a gumshoe in a wrinkled coat, talking to ghosts and waiting for the next knock at the door.
Somewhere, the fly was probably still buzzing around my office.
And the world turned.
Just without the won ton.
Because in the end, all a man like me ever really gets… is the silence that follows what could have been.
______________________
If you liked this adventure it can be viewed in its entirety here:
www.flickr.com/photos/buffdawgus/albums/72177720323103613
Image imagined in MidJourney AI and finished with Topaz Studio and Lightroom Classic.