A bit of what I am working on, of late.

Huge blue boxes. Five of them. They looked like old-fashioned book cabinets. A strange ghostly figure, clothed in a white protective baggy suit and netted helmet, moved about with a silver cylinder spouting smoke. When it saw Ah Ming approach, it waved a gloved hand and beckoned the young officer forward. Ah Ming walked on gingerly. Bees were flying around, going about their tasks. In a way, he thought, they are like me. A worker bee. Still, he had to curb the wild urge to run away. His nape itched madly, as if remembering the sting and the fever that felt like fire. He craved his safe little cubicle in a building right in the middle of the city. It was an ordeal.


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