Out of This World: Page 14 tered on his face. He, too, is tired, and the stub-ble on his chin is as gray as an old man's in the unforgiving glow. But instead of a smile, we see the shine of tears in his eyes. It is only later that we realize that this is Paul, and he is watching Halley's goodbye, her testament. The last of Halley: She wanders the streets of Hong Kong, alone, her hair tousled, her clothes slept-in for days, a backpack drooping from one shoulder, her pocket DV camera from the other. One could easily mistake her for a homeless person. She looks up, past the soaring spires of downtown Central, to the breaking of sun just over the manmade horizon. She has lost every-thing. She cannot go back to the States; she cannot go to Miho. Freedom has brought noth-ingness. But she is here, she can feel her tired joints even as she stretches her arms and lets the light happen onto her face. There is another place to go, different people to meet. Or perhaps they are all the same, because she believes that in life, you meet the same people over and over - they may be more or less developed, but they are more or less similar. And in another place she will meet another Miho, and this Miho will say, yes. Staggered with the hope, she clutches the cam-era against her heart, her eyes squeezed shut with the intensity of the thought. And then she is gone. In bed: Cheng and Gun Duk, both naked, face each other, but Gun Duk is asleep. She says his name, but he refuses to stir. She arranges his hair so that it falls in a boyish sweep over his eye-brow, and reflects on the shame of aging. Not for him, not ever, please. She whispers, asking him if there is someone else, knowing full well he can-not hear. He doesn't answer, but the breath of her words on his face awakens him. What? he