I had a husband, and a purpose of some kind. Then . . . There was a big split. Something in a far off place that reverberated through the air then suddenly everyone was taking sides. Families and Dynasties alike were torn in half right down the middle. The world began to somehow fall apart.
Dad and I were packing up my bedroom. It was sort of a somber occasion yet we managed to laugh and smile. There wasn’t much left. Three pieces of furniture and a few trinkets, but each piece held a fond memory I was not willing to lose.
Then I was a poor, scared, timid, lonely little Asian girl. It was a long time ago. The little boys would tease and hit me. The village we lived in was mostly deserted. There was a rough one-eyed woman who would take pity on me from time to time. She worked in some kind of restaurant. She handed me a small bowl and some chopsticks and told me to come up to the counter and get some rice. I sat happy for a moment, waiting for her to fill my bowl. Then a particularly mean little boy came and knocked my bowl to the floor; smashing it. The woman chased him off as I sat there crying.
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