Reluctantly she touched some of his scars, then slowly opened her eyes. With an increasing scarcity of her chance to have sex with Bing, Mei put the blame squarely on the rain. She hated it and hated it more - listening was a torment. There she didn’t stop rubbing the scars until the boys came over in identical pajamas which looked perfectly fi t on them.
“Get up, mom! Already ten o’clock! We’re hungry!” Said the elder boy, who sounded as if he’d been starving for ages.
Bing withdrew his arm, turned around and tucked his head under the quilt, as if his dream was disturbed.