I woke up in the middle of night. All was silent except the occasional whine of truck tires in the distance. The street lamps lining the shopping street outside cast their artificial light into my room, out of the blue, I thought of J.D. Salinger, the author of The Catcher in the Rye ( 麥田捕手 in Chinese), who dies a few days ago.
"phony" and loneliness and rebellion and adolescent and drunkenness and enigma and idealist and New York and wanderer and stream of consciousness...
He is as dark as night, but smells like teen.
photo by Della Chuang
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