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The sound of a loud rip echoed just as Minh took a deep breath to gather his strength.
His old trousers had torn from the back pocket all the way down to the hem.
He froze in the middle of the crowded intersection.
The bánh mì vendor bit her lip and turned away, the motorbike taxi driver laughed so hard he nearly fell off his bike, while a group of students doubled over, pointing at him.
Minh quickly grabbed a piece of cardboard to cover his backside and forced a crooked smile.
“Thank goodness… the wind is blowing from the front today.”
Minh was thirty-two years old.
His body was thin but strong from years of carrying heavy loads.
His skin was darkened by the sun, and the veins on his arms stood out like old ropes.
His gentle black eyes always carried a cheerful sparkle, but the corners were lined with wrinkles—the kind that came from a man who had spent more time smiling than sleeping.
His chin was covered in stubble because he hadn’t had enough money to buy a razor for the past three days.
His rented room was barely large enough to park a car.
The tin roof was so low that whenever Minh stood straight, his hair brushed against the ceiling.
The smells of damp walls, half-dried clothes, and instant noodles were mixed together in the tiny space.
Beside the bed sat an old backpack patched with white thread.
Inside were only two sets of clothes, a worn-out towel, and a faded photograph of his mother, yellowed with age.
Minh crouched in front of his torn shoes.
He threaded a small piece of electrical wire through the sole to tie them back together.
His fingers were covered with cracks from constantly rubbing against dried cement, leaving them painfully raw.
When he finished, he put the shoes on and took a few steps.
Then he smiled as if he had just bought a brand-new pair.
But that smile could not hide the stiffness in his right shoulder after carrying heavy goods for thirteen hours the previous day.
When Minh arrived at the market, he stood silently watching the trucks entering the loading area.
Every time someone shouted, “Who wants to carry some goods?”, his heart jumped.
But someone else was always quicker to take the job.
Minh simply smiled and stepped aside, giving them room.
His hand unconsciously rubbed his stomach.
Since last night, he had eaten nothing but one dry bánh mì and taken only two sips of water.
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