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Jing-Mei Woo
coin-sized slices, and to a  of ries filled uffings t my moto describe as quot;nutritious t;

    Eating is not a gracious event s as tarving. to t more pieces of pork, one riger t like tain detached delicacy.

    And t as quickly as tarted, t up and leave table. As if on cue, t last morsels and tes and boo tcake turns ed tual? I too put my plate in talking about trip, toment. e pass anot used to be tery ladders are still ted at table. Uncle George is dealing out cards, fast, as tec Pall Mall cigarettes, h one already dangling from his lips.

    And t to to play in t for t feels t soon ical narroe c translucent. Rose and I used to pluck t  our boy problems. Everyt nos in ter. And next to it is a floor lamp, a long black pole ligtac.

    Nobody says to me, quot;Sit o sit.quot; But I can tell even before everyone sits do to tiness to it. But t really o do s able. it ell me, I kno.

    t is ion from whe wind comes from.

    Auntie An-mei, , spills tiles onto t tabletop and to me, quot;No; e sion. to one another.

    quot;Do you ; asks Auntie Lin across from me. S smiling.

    quot;I only played a little in college ;

    quot;Ann; sed tones. quot;Not t; t my moto say, altly why.

    quot;Maybe I s play tonig c; I offer.

    Auntie Lin looks exasperated, as t; table ie Yings o join. Your fats decided.quot;

    quot;s t tell by  or just titude toward Chinese and Jewish people.

    quot;Entirely different kind of playing,quot; sion voice. quot;J
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