By Martin Sercombe
It was a dark and stormy night in Luang Namtha. The streets were strangely empty, as if the entire town had heeded a warning.
As I was making my way to my hostel an old man approached me, carrying a large package. I could see it was wrapped in tattered brown paper and tied with fraying string
"Excuse me, sir," the old man said in broken English. "You help me, please? I cannot carry this package any farther."
I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I wanted to get involved. But something about the old man's earnest expression and the strange aura around him made me curious.
"O.K." I said, reaching out to take the package.
"Thank you, thank you," the old man said, bowing deeply. "You are kind person. Please, take package to edge of town and open. I give you money."
He pressed a wad of crumpled bills into my hand and hurried off into the night, leaving me alone with the mysterious parcel.
As I walked, I couldn't help but wonder what could be inside. Was it a valuable treasure, a dangerous weapon, or something even more sinister? I found myself growing more and more uneasy with each step. Then a strange rustling movement came from within.
Finally, I reached a field and set the package down on the road side. I took a deep breath and carefully untied the string, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands shaking, I pulled the paper away and revealed what was inside.
A very startled monitor lizard wriggled out and vanished into the darkness.
