The cars and buses and occasional motorbikes with their big delivery boxes strapped to the back whiz by. The glass doors and windows of the office buildings reflect a distorted image of me, the street, the people. Ahead, through a break between buildings, I can see the river. I start toward it, walking first and then running, not caring that I might look like I’ve lost my mind.

I have lost my mind. I left it back in Iowa when I decided to come over here looking for answers that did not exist, answers I didn’t need. What was wrong with my life anyway? I had a job. I had friends. Yes, I wasn’t close with any of them and sometimes I felt like I was adrift in a sea of humanity without an anchor or a life vest, but that was normal. Who didn’t feel disconnected at some point in their lives or even at a lot of points in their lives? Normal people drank or smoke or slept around or took up needlepoint. I should have picked any one of those options instead of flying halfway across the world to find something that didn’t exist.

I keep running, ignoring my aching side and sore feet, across the six lanes of traffic, down the spiral stairs, and out onto the river’s edge. The railing puts an end to my progress. I grip it, winded, panting. I can barely make out the sounds of the river over the engines of the cars running on the bridge overhead.

In my pocket, the phone rings. I let it go to voicemail but the caller is persistent. It keeps ringing and keeps ringing and it’s so irritating I pull the device out and almost toss it in the river. Realizing how dumb that is, I pull back, but my hands are sweaty and I’m weak and dumb and the phone slips out of my hand and sails into the water, landing with an inaudible splash below me.

“Fuck.” I stare at the ripples in the dark water in full display. Of course I would drop my phone. I hate life. I hate it. I press my thumbs to my temples hard enough that my eyes sting and then I tell myself to stop the pity party and get the stupid thing. I climb over the metal railing and scramble down the steep side, but by the time I reach the edge, the phone is gone. There’s no shallow entry here. It’s a drop-off and I have no idea how deep it is. The water laps against the rocks like a tease.

I sink to my haunches and cover my face with my hands. A laugh burbles out of me. I swallow back my hysteria and start undressing. I slip my sweater and purse off, shed my shoes and socks, and lower myself into the water.

The water is cool and there’s a vague odor that I didn’t detect before when I sat along the riverbank with Yujun. The sides of the river here are rocky and slippery. The stones cut into my palms and the soles of my feet. I crane my neck and think I see the vague outline of my phone. I reach for it, but the basin of the river gives way to a well of water. I go under. My arms fly up instinctively looking for something to grasp, but there’s only air.