The Flower Princess Opera

He poured himself yet another glass of Bai Zu wine. He folded the camp bed, he left propped against the wall and lay down. He scrolled through his music on his phone and played his favorite and only album on it. The flower princess opera. Its sharp falsetomelities and florid verse filled him, and he closed his eyes, humming along to the tune some four octaves lower. Lei always hated Cantonese opera, just like her mother. She made fun of it, screeching and making funny faces whenever she heard it. Then at least tolerated it, though not without throwing him the occasional, how is this even music look? Now, there