A Bali Conspiracy Most Foul (2011) - Plot & Excerpts
Her forays had been limited to the temples and the shops. They were driving through a small village. The road, off the beaten tourist track, was stony and full of potholes. The Kijang rode the surface like a boat on a stormy sea. There were small piles of rubbish, the standard third world fare of plastic bags, bottles and leaves, at regular intervals. Someone had swept the detritus of village life into neat heaps but it had not yet been collected by any garbage collection agency, assuming there was such a thing. A cowering stray dog with huge distended teats and patchy fur was frantically scratching a flea-ridden ear. Children in bare feet and outsized T-shirts happily played in the dust and sand. Their mothers hung clothes out to dry. Young men hung around in small groups smoking kreteks. Wayan’s home was tiny. Despite its humble size, the typical elements of Balinese architecture, red brick and grey cement walls, were visible. The garden was a square lush patch of grass with an altar built at the highest point of a stone pyramid.
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