Aunties and their daughters pay a fortune to see the hills burning fuel on roads carved out of rock they talk of the crisp mountain breeze plunked down in AC cars they point at tea gardens green through thick sheets of tinted glass "Look there, a lonely hut amidst the greens the only hut, what a lovely place to live! Dressed in straw, bathed in sunlight, ringed with only rows of tea. Mother, I want a house like that, oh what a lovely place to live!"
Somewhere inside the lonely hut sat weeping a young lonely girl cussing at the straw, at the scathing sunlight and at the endless rows of tea. As she plucked leaves warily that noon, a snake slithered to her feet but only the trees heard her wail only the breeze cupped her face.
Even at an age of eighteen she would not admit what a lovely place to live! was her ugly lonely hut.