Smokin’ Houston


Following is an excerpt:
Driving in the night heat and humidity of Houston,
We passed a secluded mansion,
Spiked and wired walls around,
Mysteriously quiet.
My eyes caught the PRC emblem
In a flash of street light.
My country?
Weird, like in a wet dream.
“It must be the heat.” I dabbed the sweat on my forehead.
I had rolled down the windows,
Turned off the air-con,
Figured it would cool down with the night breeze.

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