Some men in the gamelan put wide happy smiles on when they spied the tourists' trance there within the close expanse. Dressed not well but sloppily next to many Balinese whose outfits were neat and fine for to prepare they'd taken time. The white intruders shook and raised their hands up in a mocking praise but did not pray toward what is holy rather worked their bodies wholly and did cause me too to grin while sitting there with feet tucked in. Soon the man whose dress was crude espied us all and thought us rude and leaped right up from his tight spot and fled to a more friendly knot. There he stayed and met and stared at a young lass whose hair was fair and no more ventured from his group but settled down upon the stoop that faced the altar and the priests who soon upon their rites would cease. When came time to take the blessing gone were they of poorly dressing – just a few of us remained who'd made the trek who wore the same as all the people of this isle who share with us a hearty smile and welcome us into their arms where we'll be ever free from harm.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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