The easy way out (opens in new tab)

In Eulji-ro, on a purple winter evening, my mouth full of baozi, my mind full of the New World, I hear a girl say, plainly: My mother is always negative and my father, passive-aggressive. I chug water from a tiny paper cup as she continues: We’re all afraid of him. My chair is turned away from her, so I try to conjure her face in my mind. All I see is orange neon, the snot on my jacket sleeves. I burn my tongue on a mouthful of patty.