In northern Thailand there are more stateless girls than girl-less states.

They’re stuck in their lot, waiting for Prince Charming to come rescue them from the oblivion of life in the boondocks. Born into a bummer of a Burmese state and gone by the fourth summer of debate, they migrate southward on ancient paths of forgiveness. They look for a daddy to take them in, these bastard children of the primordial race. This is the gene pool, vast but shallow, only just deep enough that you can see your reflection in it. They’re everywhere you go, yet everywhere you look, the image looking back is yourself, naked and unadorned.

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