It was around three or four in the morning. In a dingy, cluttered little rental room, a dust-covered incandescent bulb flickered feebly, occasionally crackling.
A little boy curled up on the sofa, his dirty face blending in with the surroundings. His hair was a tangled mess, and the trails of snot and tears had dried into dark brown crusts stuck firmly to his face, hands, and clothes. A tiny bundle lay there on the sofa.
Outside, thunder roared and rain poured down. Across from the sofa, the boy’s parents were arguing.
“Wang Chimo! You went gambling again? Look what you’ve done to this family!”
“Mind your own damn business. Stop whining like a woman. You’re giving me a headache!”
After speaking, the drunken man collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep. The boy woke at the sound of their voices. He rubbed his eyes with his dusty little hands, then, as usual, opened the door and went outside to wait until things went quiet before coming back in. Suddenly, a deafening rumble sounded, and lightning lit up the room.
Terrified, the boy burst into tears and hurried over to the woman, calling in a trembling voice, “Mom.”
Still fuming from her argument with Wang Chimo, the woman shouted at him, “Get away from me! You’re so annoying! Cry, cry, cry. All you ever do is cry!” Even so, she picked him up, gently patted his back, and rocked him.
“Be good, don’t cry. It’s Mommy’s fault. I was blind and married a piece of trash like him!” As she spoke, the woman began to cry too. After a while, she wiped away her tears, seeming to have made up her mind about something momentous...
