The xe ôm driver sitson the old motorbike seatoutside the late-night shopeyes following the roadlooking for a figure who needs to get home at night
A young woman stepsout from inside the alleya thin jacket onholding a small bagshe walks very slowly as if afraid to wake something
"Xe ôm, em?where to, I'll take you"the young woman stopslooks at him a momentthen nods "to the street over there"
Vehicles run in a linethrough streetsempty of peopleyellow lights, red lightsno longer meaning anything in the depth of night
She sits behind himdoes not say a wordwind slips through her hairtouching his shouldershe pulls her coat up to keep out some cold
At the place she gets offpays, then leavesthe xe ôm driver sitsa little while longeron the motorbike seat a handkerchief