His name could be Frosty or maybe his name is Xiao Bing.
He stands on a street corner in Shanghai. He is white, all white in this dirty weather.
Is he Chinese or a ‘foreigner’, like me? Was his nose sold at the vegetable market on Jianguo Lu or was it wrapped in plastic, weighed and priced at the Parkson’s supermarket on Huai Hai Lu? That’s where I buy ‘bio’ carrots to feed my Philips juicer, every morning.

Hey Frosty, today I just look like you! I have my thick white coat on! But take care my friend, tomorrow the cold might be gone.

I went to Parkson’s today. I bought fruits and vegetables, muesli and wine.
But before I reach the ‘horn of plenty’, I walk past a man, a beggar, a monster.
Fire has licked his nose, eaten his fingers. Ears and hair have disappeared.
He sits on the pavement in Shanghai.

And hey Xiao Bing, he looks like you! No ears, no fingers; a subtraction of the senses.
Phew, sometimes… the world seems closely connected.