Sunday, November 1, 2009

Near a station of the MTR

I notice her first, because she’s pretty.  Maybe in her early thirties, she’s sitting next to a man who at first I think must be her father.  Her hair is long and dark, and she’s leaning forward over crossed legs.  One wrist is draped over his knee, unusual in Hong Kong:  I’ve only ever seen one couple kissing in public the whole time I’ve been here—even holding hands is rare. 

But there she is, fingers on his crossed legs.  He’s maybe forty, maybe older, with a handsome, angled face and sparse hair.  He also bends forward, smiling, his foot tapping the brick-paved concourse.

Then I see the iPod in her hand.  A cord leads to his ear, another to hers.  Her foot moves as well, and their heads bob, ever so slightly, in perfect sync.  

1 comment:

Eric said...

I'm tempted here to ask: That's it? No treatise on the clash of cultures? No biting sarcasm or exaggeration for comic effect? No thorough examination of the dynamics of your family, the HK higher educational system or the unusual dining opportunities in Asia?

But I don't want to discourage you from writing concise, yet evocative accounts of your experiences!