You will weep for mercy. Lori Williams - 2001 Chop Suey Dharma Old man Wong stands in the kitchen doorway his nicotine yellowed fingers occasionally lift a Camel to his thin lips. He draws a long breath, holds the smoke, and slowly releases a cloud that halos his thinning white hair. Bai is the son of a warlord driven from China by Mao's murderous victory. Wong exhales another halo and watches the two women sitting by the window.
Sunlight reflects off the white table, brightens the colors of their sweaters.
They never see him. To white America he is invisible. His stained apron a shield. They are chatting about their husbands, attorneys for Hudson's. College grads of Notre Dame, upper class, elite.