Kansha

I leant my forehead against the sweltering taxi's window. Outside, the square of Nam Cheong, a small district in southern Hong Kong heaved and spluttered. Four columns of traffic pushed their way through the teeming square. A swarm of cyclists weaved through the dense traffic, risking a sudden death to save a few precious minutes of life. Lining the pavements, irate salesmen behind stall after stall of brightly coloured t-shirts, crimson lanterns, and pungent Japanese delicacies fought for the attention of fickle tourists.