Every once in a while, we head up to the roof of our apartment.
It's nothing special; just this neglected space with random pipes and cables and broken chairs... and if you forget to prop the door open, you're out of luck.
But tonight, on the eve of our four-day weekend, after seeing the Hobbit and eating at the Taco House and scooting down winding back roads with illuminated paper lanterns and somewhere off in the distance fireworks booming, it seemed like the perfect place to spend a few late night hours.
So we rendezvoused at 11p.m. with our goodies: whiskey, tobacco, and chocolate truffles of course.
Sean, Luke, and I smoked from my dad's old pipes. We watched the storm front roll in. We peeped on people doing karate in their apartment.
We just relaxed and enjoyed this moment, another random beautiful moment, that Hsinchu offered us.