“Use the funnel technique,” Kate’s professor once told the class. “It gathers your readers in and brings their focus to where you want to begin.” Now, half a world away from New York City, sitting on a deserted beach on the shore of the South China Sea, pen and paper in hand, Kate knew where she wanted to begin. She just wasn’t sure anyone would want to be funneled there. She looked out over the water and thought. Some truths are too hard to hear. Most of us prefer to spare ourselves the sight of the suffering of others as we try to arrange our lives so we don’t get our own hearts broken.
“Well, that’s impossible,” Kate heard herself say in answer to herself.
Looking up from the blank paper on her lap, she gazed out across the water as a slender native boy in a red loincloth dove from his canoe into the turquoise sea. He couldn’t be more than eighteen.
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