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About Changhua

I roll up to this spot, shady as fuck. Neon lights flickerin’, smellin’ like regret and cheap perfume. This chick, she struts out—heels clackin’, skirt shorter than a blunt wrap. I’m like, “Damn, girl, you workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” She grins, all sassy—reminds me of Monty’s crew, hustlin’ to survive. “This is my last night,” I mutter, quotin’ *25th Hour*, feelin’ deep. She don’t get it, but whatever, vibe’s still cool.

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Finally, I’m like, “Fine! I’ll get your cat!” I dash inside, and it’s like a scene from a horror movie. Smoke everywhere, and I can barely breathe. I’m crawling on the floor, and I’m thinkin’, “This is how I die.” But then, I hear it—a little meow. I follow the sound, and there’s this fluffy ball of fur, just chillin’ under a table. I scoop it up, and I’m outta there!

Wulai school promoting Atayal culture, language