Intro;

July 30
Kowloon, Hong Kong

The dreams always started in the apartment I had rented in my second year of college. I was in the bedroom this time, just waking up. Sunshine was peeking in through the window and I felt so warm and well rested in my soft blankets. 

There was another source of comfort near me – body heat. I was wrapped in a pair of strong arms, nose pressed into a broad chest. Our legs tangled together under the sheets, feet sticking out of the other end. 

“Umm, Mina, good morning baby.” His chest rose and fell as he spoke, voice low and scratchy from sleep. “How do you always look so beautiful in the morning?” I could feel him shifting, leaning down to drop a soft kiss on the top of my head. 

I closed my eyes, feeling blissful and content. 

Then suddenly, it got colder, as if someone had opened the windows on an autumn day. I could no longer feel the warmth from the sun and my eyes snapped open again. It was cloudy outside, overcast and rainy, and I was all alone. 

Barcelona. 

I could almost smell the Balearic Sea from the coastline not too far away. It should have been calming, but all I felt was panic and pain. My heart throbbed in agony as I curled up, trying to become as small as possible. I didn’t want to be here. To me, Barcelona would always be associated with heartbreak. 

And then I was awake, this time back in my hotel room in Hong Kong. I was twisted in my sheets, hands gripping my pillow so tightly that the pillowcase was wrinkled. I looked like I had just awoke from a horrific nightmare instead of just some uneventful dream. I guess, in the long run, there was not much different between the two. 

I picked up my phone and squinted at the screen. 3:26AM, Hong Kong time.
 
With a sigh, I turned over onto my stomach, burrowing deeper into the blanket. I had a flight back to Seoul to catch in less than four hours, and I was going to need all the sleep I could get. When I finally slipped back into an uneasy slumber, the dreams did not reappear. 

Hong Kong was truly a beautiful city, with some of the most delicious food that I had ever tried. I had been there three times so far, with a total stay of about two months. Unfortunately, they had all been work related visits. One involved a diamond necklace that belonged to the wife of the South African Consulate General in Hong Kong, another involving a rare copy of The Birds of America that cost more than a first printing of the United States Declaration of Independence. This current trip had to do with obtaining a sculpture by an Italian artist of