Rockefeller Observation Deck

Manhattan Heart Rate Monitoring Report

In this city where 37 people kiss every minute, my job is to sell carefully calibrated empathy. The wounds hidden under the tailored suits and couture dresses are often more shining than the billboards in Times Square.

Taxidermy in Central Park

Every Wednesday afternoon, a Columbia University professor rents the cherry trees in Strawberry Field to recreate his first encounter with his late wife. I need to accurately reproduce the angle at which she dropped the poetry collection in 1992, until one day a strong wind lifted the pages of the book - the yellowed abortion consent form in the interlayer happened to fall into his coffee cup. Amid the applause of the onlookers, he suddenly commented in anatomical terms: "Look, what a perfect pathological memory reappearance."

Breathing class on the Rockefeller Observation Deck

Japanese housewives pay three times the hourly wage for "perfect wife training" at Top of the Rock. When she was practicing her 17th smile in front of the glass curtain wall on the 67th floor, she suddenly wrapped her Gucci scarf around our wrists: "You know? The pulse of my husband's cheating partner..." The melody of "Merry Christmas" came from the skating rink below, and she untied her Hermès watch strap to show the rhythm of the cut scar, which was exactly the same as the music.

The Pain Economics of Chelsea Hotel

Wall Street's new rich booked the entire floor and asked to re-enact "Breakfast at Tiffany's". When I sang "Moon River" on the fire escape, he suddenly opened the LV box full of dental instruments: "Help me take a look at this wisdom tooth... Does it look like the tooth shape that bit my shoulder the night she left?" The neon lights of the High Line Park outside the window reflected the moisture in his eyes into the Dow Jones Index chart.

The Silent Auction of the Brooklyn Bridge

Programmer clients always rent the secret space under the bridge piers at dusk. He developed an APP that can simulate the temperature of a hug, but insisted that I demonstrate in person "how humans transfer body temperature without contact." When the sound of the freighter's whistle drowned out the sound of the cell phone's notification ring, we also noticed that his fiancée's unread messages were projected on the surface of the East River - the words were distorted by the waves into shapes that we dared not click on.