Taiwanese photography

pictures I didn't take:

A line of two dozen scooters boasting an envious palette, lining a busy street of seven elevens and ginger tea. Neon signs of strokes and characters glitter off their pearly painted surfaces, and I quicken my pace to catch up with my guide, always three steps ahead.


His hair breeze blown at the crest of Wai Mu Chan. Behind him, a backdrop of misted harbor and salt crusted rock piercing a blue sky. Rusty ships skate across a calm surface leaving debris and bubbles in their wake. "Do you want me to take a picture of you two?" I laugh openly as his eyes roll at the thought of "pair." We pose artificially leaving awkward and empty in our wake.


Parade! A small man in a shabby white t-shirt mumbles "key" under his breath. Through the bus window, his eyes follow mine follow rain sprinkled trucks garnished in fresh lilies and he says "key" a little louder. Clothing racks dressed in ornate silver cloth and golden embroidery roll over sewer grates and puddles. "Key!" I glance behind me and catch his eye. His lids flutter and ask, "key?" Our gaze is broken by the blare of silver bugles and tassles swinging from pursed mouths and puffed cheeks. Key exits the bus and I absent-mindedly check my map.