To Admiralty Road West, 39 km. The rain has stopped. It's cool and misty. The dark foreign talent gather after a hard day's work in the shipyard to dine in the open air. Under the trees, on the pavement, on the grass. Unlike their white counterparts in town. This Wed night, I cycle alone as no one is at the rendezvous point. Some motorists try to contact me, including one handicapped driver. At least, I think she's handicapped; she turns her steering wheel, but is incapable of turning on her signal light.
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