HONG KONG, CHINA
It’s impossible to know whether the world is going the way of China or China is going the way of the world. An uncomfortable layering of capitalism and communism on top of one another, as embodied by the city of Hong Kong, is not the answer to this question.
Hong Kong is the question.
LAMMA ISLAND, HONG KONG-
She was unapologetically beautiful with ocean damp hair and breasts that pressed two dark spots into her pink camisole. Light freckles on her nose matched her sand crusted toes and she walked the leaf-shadowed path as if she bore the weight of a hidden royal past.
Around us on all sides were the spinning dementia of cicadas and the love affairs of bullfrogs. Obscenity saturated the damp air. We passed from the trees into the cane forests and out past a chicken yard where the hens bickered openly and the cock was king.
We spoke of love and culture and sex and God. She had been raised in the same British boarding school as Cat Stevens. Oh yes, she remembered the old schoolyard.
Love is a battlefield.
Culture is a club.
Sex is natural.
God is a DJ.
BOULDER, CO-
Not too long ago, I had a shot at enlightenment. And despite the fact that I live right outside of Boulder, CO - the enlightenment capital of the universe with the exception of Sedona and perhaps the chocolate aisle of the World Market - I cannot say that I have yet had the privilege of sitting in God’s palm. So when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped at it.
I was living on Lamma Island, just outside of Hong Kong - already the consequence of playing chicken with Fate - when I met Jack. Jack lived down the street from me and was the friend of a friend. He is of medium height, has sandy blond hair and comes from Liverpool. (Read: cute with an accent).
He looks me over, waiting for our mutual friend to arrive and extends an invitation that would change my life.
