Page 195 - SpontaneousSuccessMatos

“It was 1959, and I was 23. I was making a bit of a
name for myself as a crime reporter in London. Then,
one day, I got an assignment to report on the Chinese
famine from the Walled City of Kowloon, British Hong
Kong's most notorious district. They called it the City of
Darkness; it was the most densely crowded place on
earth and the home of the local triad gangs.”
"Wow, Thomas,” Frankie interrupted. ”It sounds
terrifying?"
“Indeed it was. Early one morning, I’m in a teashop,
making notes, in shorthand, and minding my own
business when the security police grabbed me,
confiscated this very journal, carted me off, and accused
me of being a spy.”
“What’s shorthand?” Paul asked.
Thomas leaned forward, a hint of nostalgia in his
eyes. He turned the book to face Paul and pointed to the
page. “This is.”
"Back in my journalism days, we didn't have
recorders or smartphones. Shorthand was our go-to trick
for taking notes and capturing quotes. But the Hong
Kong authorities thought I was using some secret spy
language. Sound familiar?
Paul nodded and shrugged.
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