twenty something, northern california, internet
Where there used to stand shelves of fresh bread swirled with red bean paste and stacks of sweet buns stuffed with hot dogs, there are piles of rubble, shards of dirty glass and a circle of shirtless construction workers perched on stumpy wooden stools. They’re playing a raucous game of cards underneath the glow of one solitary light bulb, their sticky brown bodies glazed with sweat, frosted with dust and sand. Their underwear from yesterday has been washed and clipped onto long horizontal poles of bamboo to dry.
