I wasn’t a person after all. I was simply this exotic thing for people to observe and investigate, an alien in any environment I was in.

Right now they are classified as an exotic.

The meal she served was unlike any I had encountered in Vienna, or anywhere else: red seaweed garnished with pickled radishes; black rice noodles and spotted mushrooms boiled in wine, grilled squid stuffed with flying fish roe; and yellow cherries sauteed in butter. The hot bread was laced with cinnamon and paprika. The goat cheese was coated with thyme honey.

Even the most exotic excursions can become tedious through repetition.

I don't see myself as exotic.

such an exotic underworld that we know a little about, but not much. I've wanted to explore it for a while.