The days of July ..
[//]:# (!pinmapple 10.807492 lat 106.656776 long SaiGon VIETNAM d3scr)
On the days when it blows, Saigon ( Ho Chi Minh city) is extraordinarily quiet..No more five-color lamps, just has two colors now, one red, one white. The color of the interlocking wire, of the ambulance lights, is flashing..
Never had the siren bracket so much across the streets, all the neighbors. The severity of the pandemic keeps people away. The creeping anxiety in the eyes.
We just kind of wobble at each other and can’t say a thing.
Now the people only get crowded in hospitals, pharmacies, supermarkets and the places that give to charity.
Everything is in a hurry, hurry...
Supermarkets now don't want to sell. Little supply of vegetables. Meat isn't there. Pack noodles are not in sight. They sell their faith to everyone else. As the implication is, and supermarkets, one can lather around in the wilt of vegetables on a shelf...
Sighing...
The breathing that doesn't take deep breaths of the air isn't even pure to breathe. And tomorrow... It's a time when every man will be armed with a spacesuit, breathing on his own oxygen tank, and exchanging in a
body language.
Saigon... Sad days and sad times...
Hear this story that there are places where food has no way in. People who have money cannot buy as many goods as they want because it is hard to do so.
We hear stories about people living far away from home, rooms that don’t have cooking facilities, no access outside, no food. The noodle came over for a meal.
We saw for ourselves the unemployed.
Again sighing...
