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Why I Hate Indian Bureaucracy: Day 149

The shower was near scaldinga heat that leaves your skin itching for more harsh comfort but it was the hottest I've had in weeks and it stayed that way I steamed out the biters encircling my naked frame my arms radiated like dry ice It's the signal of a shift, a baptism and wash and it's a time I allow tears to fall It's the right time, as right as any

It could also be a sleepless wee hour a loaded walk towards the sunrise sometimes a dusty, corrugated road away from waves These moments don't have to be cliche but they sure like to be Emerging from the bathroom a new woman leaving piles of bubbles and clothes for the next passer-by a pair of crying eyes waiting at a train car window fearing the chugs that will tear the space wide.

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