You Are Eating an Orange. You Are Naked.

1) "At moments I wonder if you are a fifty-year-old fox. Sometimes, when I look very intently, I can see the celestial fox in you. A celestial fox with an elegant walk."

2) "The server comes over. I cover the receiver. 'Sir, we are about to close. May I get you anything else?' 'I'll have another Scotch and the bill, please.' You: Hello? Me: Why are you in Hong Kong? You: What? Me: Why are you in Hong Kong? You: I should go. Me: Where are you going? You: Back to my friends. Me: I didn’t know you had so many friends in Hong Kong. You: Just a few. Me: You left me here, waiting. You: I got bored of you, okay?"

3) "In my parents’ house are several handcrafted plates with portraits of my grandfather painted on them. He wears a silk tangzhuang, his head is held high, and his hands are placed behind his back. He is bold. These plates were made by the best craftsmen in Macau at the time. In the picture, I am wearing a shirt with sweat all over it and holding a beer from Hong Kong—a beer that runs commercials that feature only blue-eyed German men. And I’m forcing a smile. I wonder what you’re doing. Maybe you went to Hong Kong because you are bored of the weightlessness of Macau."

4) "We are naked. I feel you touching my back with the tip of your finger. Imagine a very clean pane of glass. You know the glass is there, but you can’t resist the temptation to use the tip of your finger to touch it—just to make sure. The slightest touch. You touch my back like that. I feel transparent."

5) "I find you sitting on the red couch in the living room with your legs crossed. You are eating an orange. You are naked. Above your head hangs a black-and-white photograph of Ai Weiwei giving the Hong Kong harbour’s financial district the middle finger."

6) "We went to a little noodle shop to have dinner. We sat on the balcony and drank beer. You sat across from me. In the moonlight, we shared a meal before heading back to the city. I looked out the back window of the taxi. Glowing lanterns inscribed with different languages were rising from the top of the hill. I imagined myself an archer, shooting down the lanterns. The Shifen and Jiufen hills were the inside of my mind. I was my tongue. I was shooting down parts of concepts that did not belong to reality. I was speaking."

7) "At the end of the bridge, a clown in a red clown costume says to you: Konichiwa, sir! Would you care to stab me? And then he hands you a knife—one of those medieval knives with red rubies embedded in the handle. She is taking a picture of you and the clown. You refuse to stab the clown, saying to him you’d rather not stab him and you’re not Japanese. You also realize that the clown has yellow teeth. Last night you were at work in Toronto, and the next day you are in Prague having brunch with Harold Li and your ex-girlfriend, realizing you still love her. A clown in a red clown costume is asking if you’ll stab him. You look at the statues on the Charles Bridge. They do not look back. You look at her. She is photographing you and the clown. Nothing feels real."