I like standing on my balcony. In the day, the heat here is unbearable. you have to pull your clothes off of your skin, desperately clingy from sweat and the water in the air, but moreso from sweat. The money that you stuck in your back pocket comes out damp, probably already molding. In the night, the tame humidity is perfect. you smooth your way through the air. I like looking ten floors down, ashing to the winds. My room looks down on the main promenade that runs through our complex. For a village that houses so many people, walking through the place is like strutting through a ghost town. But I watch the people who do mill about. I would have a spectacular view - absolutely spectacular view - of the river and the radiantly hued Shanghai skyline, if there weren't an opposing building absorbing the view for itself. My friend lives there and I've seen the absolutely spectacular view. But from my balcony, I can only see her building and the people inside it milling about in their kitchens, and I like that too.
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