Working Drafts

A work of fiction. Working draft.

---

The room is dark. You don’t wonder where you are. This is not your home—but that is ok.

Footsteps creak in the hallway. A door opens and shuts. The spell breaks. This is a hotel room. The alarm clock beside the bed blinks.

3:54am

I’m awake now. I sit up. My sinus infection has gotten worse.

The air conditioner kicks on. It’s January, but not like home.

I check my phone. A new text—photos of my two cats back home. I send back a quick so cute! I miss them! and set the phone down softly.

J— is asleep with her back to me. The pressure in my face is dull and insistent. I wish for a fan aimed directly at my head. She hates sleeping with one on nearby.

I’m not getting back to sleep.

4:06am

I decide to go for a walk. I need air. I need water.

I move slowly, careful not to wake her, not ready to face her yet after the way things ended last night. My phone’s flashlight guides me to my Nikes and a hoodie. AirPods. Room key. I slip out.

The elevator drops me to the lobby. Third floor. Fullerton Hotel. Da’an District. Taipei. Taiwan.

The front desk clerk looks surprised to see me. He’s watching a video on his phone and stands quickly.

“Oh—you’re fine. Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“I just wanted to grab a water?”
“Of course.”

The dining area is still closed. I take a bottle from the minibar fridge and step outside.

She chose this hotel because it sits near an MRT station where the red and brown lines intersect. J— is good at this—researching, weighing pros and cons, finding places that make moving through a city feel simple. She has as much confidence about these things as I do self-doubt and uneasiness, so it’s nice to travel with her, even when I feel like a burden.

We arrived in Taiwan five days ago. She was invited to give a workshop at a university near the southern tip of the island. I tagged along, mostly orbiting the campus 7-Eleven, which doubles as a commons for the rural art college. Outdoor tables, shade, and a resident cat kept me company while I hid with my laptop and Kindle. I wandered the campus and the nearby village, watching rice planted in flooded fields—by hand and by tractor.

After taking the bullet train two hours up the western coast to Taipei, we spent a day exploring, eating, going to museums, and then—seemingly inevitably—arguing. It escalated the way it always does until we were both sulking.

“I just need to unwind. We did so many great things today. Don’t let this ruin the trip.”

“Such a delicate fucking flower.”

I put in earplugs and went to bed without another word. The pendulum between elation and tension swings back and forth for us.

4:13am

Outside the hotel, relief is immediate. The air is cool, low 60s. Dark. Quiet.

An elevated train track runs above the street in front of the hotel. Wide city lanes. Tree-lined medians.

Yesterday, traffic was gridlocked—cars, scooters, bodies everywhere. Now empty. I’d been primed to feel melancholy in a city like this. Taipei is otherworldly, especially at this time of day.

I turn right.

My loose plan is to walk toward the dark skyscraper in the distance. Taipei 101. We ate dumplings there yesterday and took a long elevator to the top to see the city from above. It was the tallest building in the world for a short time, and in the dark sky it looks like something out of a Batman movie. It’s not very far. I can circle it, wander down side streets that look interesting, and be back in an hour or two.

Before I start walking, I put in my AirPods and select a playlist. I chose songs that felt atmospheric, hoping they’d attach themselves to this place in my memory.

I decide to loop the same song on repeat this morning. Background noise. Something to let my mind drift.

Just Like Honey.
The Jesus and Mary Chain.
Noise cancellation on.
Play.

The song starts with just a simple drum beat.

thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh

Then the wall of sound arrives. A staticky, dirty riff. A tingle runs down the back of my neck as the endorphins hit.

Listen to the girl
As she takes on half the world

A calm, steady heartbeat. Patient.

I pass a brightly lit 7-Eleven. I make a mental note to stop there on the way back for a coffee. An employee stands behind the counter, expressionless. I wonder if he minds working this early shift. I imagine myself working there. It looks calm.

To the left, a long row of bright yellow YouBikes. A park bench beneath a tree. Rows of residential brick buildings on the other side of the wide street. No lights on in any of them.

I keep walking toward the 101.

4:23am

It’s unfortunate the way things ended last night, because before that we were having such a good time. We always are—until we aren’t.

The bullet train ride to the city was breathtaking. She napped with her head on my shoulder. I stared out the window as we passed above small towns and hazy green mountains. A clear blue sky. Cute illustrations of penguins and rabbits in conductor uniforms lined the walls and seat-back brochures. A family brought bento box breakfast—the young daughter standing between them to eat.

When we arrived at Taipei Main Station, we ate a snack and bought metro cards. We talked about buying a souvenir train but didn’t want to carry it. Maybe later. Then it was off again—MRT, hotel check-in, dumplings, an art museum, photos together. Night market. Buzz in the air. Look at that. Alleys lined with parked scooters. The hum of a city built for walking.

We were hypnotized. But I was also tired. I hadn’t felt quite right since arriving. First jet lag, then something else. She has more stamina than I do and would have stayed out all night exploring.

Our compromise was to get a massage. They are open late here. Families with children sat together in the waiting area. J— checked us in. We were given brown striped shorts to change into and led to separate changing rooms.

A few years ago, I hurt my back. My massage would focus on my lower back and right leg where the sciatic nerve pain runs. At one point, the masseuse hit the exact spot where the pain originates in my lower spine.

Bingo. Right there.

I reached back to mime where she should focus but accidentally bumped her leg. She jumped back, startled.

No, no—sorry. Sorry. No. Just here. This spot. I pointed. Hurts.

I tried to explain the misunderstanding as best I could. She softened. The massage continued.

5:13am

I’m feeling better. My sinuses still ache and my movement is sluggish, but there’s a breeze and moving helps. The mundane things that make up a city street are exciting when you travel. Street signs in Mandarin. Crosswalks painted with iconography that makes sense but feels other compared to the cities in America. Same with traffic lights and subway entrances. Familiar but different.

The 101 looms ahead, ever-present, towering over everything. I move toward it slowly, in no hurry. Just taking it in.

The beat continues to keep time for me.

thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
It's good, so good, it's so good
So good

Maybe I should have woken J— so she could see this, too. But she’s never liked early mornings the way I do. I wake early and go to bed early. She stays up late and rises when she’s ready. Our days overlap in the middle. There’s a gap.

5:26am

When I reach the base of the 101, it feels wrong to be the only witness to something this big. A few lights glow in windows above, but the building is mostly dark. No people. A couple of cars waiting at the intersection. A cab idling. I take a few pictures and keep moving.

A few blocks away, I circle toward an area we were in yesterday. Shops. An outdoor Apple Store. I turn left, then right, into a wide plaza.

A young couple sits on a bench. She notices me. I stand out—hoodie, shorts over black thermal leggings, Nikes.

She’s drunk. No translation needed.

She stands next to me, then suddenly bolts down the plaza, untied Doc Martens slapping the pavement, white dress and denim jacket flapping behind her. I laugh. Her boyfriend laughs, too. Twenty yards away, she stops, throws her hands up in mock victory.

I won!

thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
For you—for you

5:34am

She was just the welcoming party. Across the street, dozens of college-aged kids cluster outside a row of bars and clubs. The night is ending. Everyone’s waiting for a ride. Cabs line the curb. I walk straight through the loose knots of people.

I’m more aware that I’m old. A kind of tired fondness arises in me. They all look exhausted, leaning into one another, killing time. Making mistakes. This is your window.

Who parties next to an Apple Store? Taipei has better neighborhoods than this.

On the way back, I take a different route. It’s quieter. Residential. No neon. No medians. I reach a wide intersection where several roads converge. One disappears into an underground tunnel. Directional signs point everywhere and nowhere. I cross slowly.

Moving up and so alive
In her honey dripping beehive
Beehive

6:15am

I’m back at the 7-Eleven. She’s probably still asleep, but I text anyway—coffee? anything?

Three dots appear. Then vanish. Then nothing.

I exhale. Okay. This, I can do.

I remove my AirPods and the static of the city returns all at once. Inside the convenience store, I buy two waters. Two bananas. Two bottled coffees.

I sit on the bench beneath the tree. More cars now. A few bikes. People walking with purpose. The sun isn’t up yet, but the sky has shifted into that pale pre-dawn blue. I take a sip of water and condensation on the cold bottle drips onto my hand resting in my lap.

thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh
thoom … thoom-thoom — tschhh

Walking back to you
Is the hardest thing that
I can do
That I can do for you
For you