Sergei Yurinov stared at the magnetic chess board with an intensity that betrayed reality. He already knew exactly what move he was going to make, and the next two after that. But he wanted to make a bit of a show for his American counterpart, to throw him off. Brett Mitchell had bet the Russian the next day’s spacewalk duties that he would finally best him in a chess match. Sergei had beaten Brett nine straight times – in the past week – but Brett was both stubborn and overconfident in himself. He was convinced he had found a flaw in Sergei’s play.
If you stay in China long enough, you will undoubtedly develop a serious, and often debilitating, addiction. You will find that not only can you not start your mornings without a quick fix, but also cannot function for most of the day without it. Wandering aimlessly through dark alleyways like a dirty ragamuffin, you seek out the seedy dealers who sit with countless tins of their product, hawking multiple varieties and strengths, depending on your need. For me, it was the Oolong that satisfied my evil desire and stopped my withdrawal pains. For others, only straight green would do. Like so many others before and after, I had become a tea addict.