I walked up to the window for immigration services at the Embassy. A Mastiff sat behind the pixel glass, writing furiously. He didn’t look up when I said hi, so I knocked on the glass, twice, with my fingertips.
The triangle of a fish head cut open along the center seam, splayed like a butterfly, blanketed by pickled peppers, Chinese red. Stinky tofu sold by a homely granny in a leaf-littered alley, fried