Pain Auction

When the city landmark becomes an emotional dissection table

In this giant clinic woven with neon and concrete, my work clothes are Jimmy Choo high heels and facial muscles that can accurately calculate the angle of smile. The 327 hotel room cards collected in five years record how humans buy shackles to imprison themselves under the gaze of the Statue of Liberty.

Countdown fairy tale of the Flatiron Building

Every morning at 9:15, Mr. Wolf of Wall Street will appear on time in the oblique light and shadow of the Flatiron Building. He always brings the 1987 version of "The Wizard of Oz" and asks me to move the shadow cast by the tip of the triangle of the building to the third floor tile to finish reading Chapter 7. One morning in a snowstorm, when I found a hair specimen of his daughter's chemotherapy in the book, I arbitrarily modified the plot-letting Dorothy stay in Oz forever. The sound of the wall of the iced American cup bursting came from behind me, and the melted ice water outlined the Manhattan coastline on the ground.

Taste Archaeology on the Coney Island Roller Coaster

The blind chef's "sensory reconstruction" treatment took place at the highest point of the Cyclone roller coaster. When the car made a dying groan on the century-old wooden track, he suddenly asked me to describe the aroma of the hot dog stand below: "It should be specific to the degree of charring of onion grains on the iron plate...". At the moment when the roller coaster dived, we shouted at the same time, "It's the smell of the power outage in Queens in the summer of 2002!" - His blind stick was pointing at my Adam's apple, where the pretzel crumbs we just shared were.

Silent Fugue in the Roosevelt Island Cable Car

The "perfect life rehearsal" of the heirs is always carried out in the cable car at sunset. She asked me to praise her new nose prosthesis in three languages, until one time when the cable car was suspended over the East River due to a malfunction - she suddenly lifted the hem of her Valentino skirt to reveal the bruises on her knees: "Look, this is real..." When the Q102 ferry below blew its whistle, we counted the lit windows of the United Nations building on the other side, as if counting the plastic surgery bills left by her mother.

Pain Auction in DUMBO Warehouse

In the abandoned warehouse rented by the programmer, the projector played the rice fields of his hometown on the mottled wall. When he practiced the opening speech of "Dear, Museum of Modern Art in New York..." for the 13th time, the roar of sightseeing helicopters came from the Brooklyn Bridge next door. I grabbed the rusty fire axe and smashed it against the switch. In the dark, there were trembling hands deleting all my photos on the phone - the fluorescence reflected the pale ravines on his ring finger worn by the wedding ring.