PREVIEW

... was heat rising off asphalt.

Its voice, a chorus of shouts, horns, and rusted engine coughs.

Morning blurred into late morning.

And late morning bled into the slow burn of afternoon.

Vendors barked louder.

Cars honked without rhythm.

Cups clattered in distant cafés like echoes of a world moving too fast.

Jun packed up quietly.

No announcement.

No sense of an ending.

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