Daysleeping

My last night in Hong Kong, I ventured out by myself to do a little shopping and look for adventure, because, really, there's only so much walking you can do with two children along before they revolt.  It was only late afternoon, but the light was dimming and shops were closing, and the buzz of the city was fading just a little.  Walking alone always makes me all kinds of introspective, and I knew I was going to want to tell you about Hong Kong, not just what we did and the things I saw, but how it felt. Hong Kong feels full of stories.  It feels deliciously full of ghosts, as if even on the emptiest street you are jostled by the force of the desires and rages and joys and tedium of all the lives that have passed the same spot.  It feels like a fire that has burned down to hot blue coals but you've just put a fresh log on and it's about to spark up into a nice fresh flame.  The city smells like that, too, like sulfur and new pine logs in an old stone hearth, but w