Asia does that to a guy, I suppose.
She's sitting next to me, one thin leg dangling over the other, a slender-fingered hand on her knee waving a cigarette. The passing skytrain lights up beautiful little curls of smoke. The full harvest moon hangs exactly above us and lightning forks in the distant night behind her.
She sighs out a long petal of smoke that washes across the Bangkok skyline. My heart goes out to her. People never think about what it must be like to be an ex-model.