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The first rain has come. Small raindrops fall along the pavements and drop on heads of children waiting for school buses and on cars parked along the streets.
In the silence of the early morning, there are already noisy buses running on the street.
Everywhere there is a constant orderly motion: wage-earners running across the roads; while students run to avoid being late for school.
Construction workers chat loudly and smoke, sitting on chairs on the side of the street.
At the railway station, the milling crowd pushes and rushes, like a battered squeeze-box.
People push desperately into the train, even if they are not in a hurry.
A teenager sits on a priority seat never having the slight thought of giving his seat to the old man with white hair and wrinkles standing in front of him,
pushed and jostled by other passengers.
This is Hong Kong, as usual. |
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