After July

“Which world will you choose to believe in? Which version of me?” Chen Chen traced the cold edge of the hair clip. He remembered a rainy day in the Republic of China era, when the young lady stood beneath the covered walkway watching the rain. He had seen the fine down at the nape of her neck through her eyes while inhabiting her body. If even a sensation like that could be faked, what was there left to believe? “You’re all treating me like a fool.” He suddenly smiled, but his eyes were desolate. “The school doctor’s diagnosis, my parents’ sympathy, your ‘truth’: everyone is telling me in a different way that I’m crazy, that I’m delusional.” He clenched the hair clip so tightly that the butterfly’s wings nearly sank into his palm. “Then I’ll go all the way and be crazy.”