so it was a house,filled with bodies to be cremated,and i didn't feel a thing.
he held my hand and helped me make my way around the corpses that were scattered in blue rooms. Piles and piles of them. Some wrapped up neatly in white, some with limbs hanging out, some barely shrouded, all respect for the deceased thrown out the window. Occasionally we step on things we regret.through traditional kampung house doors, down old-school cement stairs.
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