Haikou–Changsha

If you’re on pace, it takes 90 minutesto travel from autumn to summer. But,from summer to autumn, even at that pace,the equal sign becomes a question mark.The status of retired workers is declining,following the rules got them nowhere.Honest folks are turned away by the security-check angels,only the following are allowed on board:bankers with pearl necklaces bought at half priceand three-dollar shells from which comes out the soundof a tsunami; young teachers with beautiful figuresleft on negatives; architects in the mood of first loveagain; civil servants and insurance agentsin discussions that are bound to happen; several bodiesthat have digested fresh seafood but fallen asleep;and a soul—its wings nailed down by a storm.

“Are you all familiar with these provinces now?On the map, our country looks like a chicken,Haikou is a foot that stretches out.”“If you are interested, you can start from this footand reach to the chicken’s belly, chest, head,back, and finally Xinjiang, the chicken’s tail.”“Everyone, please fasten your seat belts.”—Otherwise, we will slip into a collective dream?