HO-LY SHIT, THAT ENDING!

When I finished reading, my heart sank in my chest. I just stared dumbly at my phone, musing on those final few lines, trying to figure out who I was feeling sorry for.

Besides that, I love your command of dependent clauses and the way you use them to great effect at pulling your reader through the paces. Your technique isn't just a simple "show, don't tell" strategy; instead, you bring us into every detail, lingering on what you want readers to take in before gently directing our attention elsewhere. And you never overstay your welcome on any detail.

Here's a case in point:

Vinh stood puffing on his joint with one hand holding the waist of his checkered boxers, his blissful expression turned up toward the rusted goddesses in the center of the fountain, towering metal women with obliterated faces and pots in their hands.

From Vinh's face to hand to other hand to his waist (implicitly tracing his torso) back to his upturned eyes meeting the absent gaze of rusted out statues to the artifacts in the hands of these decayed artifacts.

The fetid water, the missing faces, the bared bodies, the isolation from society... Jesus, man, could you pack in any more symbolism? That's a request, actually. I eagerly await your next entry!