Jing-Mei Woo （4 / 46）

y unseeives frovuver. she would snip the bottoof a sweater and pull out a kinky thread of yarn, anch it to a piece of cardboard. and as she began to roll with one sweeping rhyth she would start her story. over the years, she toldthe sa story, except for the ending, which grew darker, casting long shadows into her life, aually into ne.

&a;a;a;quot;i dread about kweilin before i ever saw it,&a;a;a;quot;n, speaking ese. &a;a;a;quot;i dread of jagged peaks lining a curving river, with gic ss greening the banks. at the tops of these peaks were white sts. and if yould float down this river ahe ss for food, you would be strong enough to cli the peak. if you slipped, you would only fall into a bed of soft ss and laugh. and once you reached the top, you would be able to see everything and feel such happiness it would be enough to never have worries in your life ever again.

&a;a;a;quot;in a, everybody dread about kweilin. and when i arrived, i realized how shabbydrea were, how poorth