Crusty eyes pull open to another dismal day.
Outside the blare of traffic dampens her heart again.
She longs for the rice fields and wide-open skies of her birth.
Not this city of never sleeping, rat-race minions, seeking worth.
Instead, she has become Queen of the Cockroach Slayers.
Master of the Rats.
She dreams of tigers and dragons, facing off in mystical lands.
Warriors of old and their magical swords.
Her ancestors, her kind.
Jade looks out the window at the race.
Watching the humans rushing and hurrying to live the same day.
Jade looks at the smog and wakes.
Today, she will buy the flight back home.
And say good-bye to the word alone.
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