Nihuan Night Patrol

At 4:15 in Chinatown, Jie Shu opened the back door of the restaurant and squatted next to the huge gray trash can to smoke. The sunlight reflected off the glass walls of the office building illuminated the raw meat residue on her apron. The figure projected on the asphalt, out of shape from too much junk food, resembled a Russian matryoshka doll. If the two blond women who were talking to each other hadn't suddenly stopped their conversation and quickened their pace when they passed by her, she would have almost forgotten that she was sniffing the stench in the air while inhaling nicotine into her lungs. So comfortable, probably because she herself exudes a similar smell. She couldn't help laughing at the thought that the delicious meal served hot and the sour and smelly stuff in the swill bucket came from the same source.