Dim Sum

Dim Sum

Drink Tea.

Many little dishes pass by. Point and eat. Instant gratification. Delayed only if you are not quick with lazy susan and chopsticks.

We are no longer the only white people at the Empress’ Palace at the end of china town, not far from the royal pagoda. My aunt’s friend speaks Chinese and makes friends with one of the waitresses. It is not often a white middle aged housewife with teenage kids can speak to the waitresses in their language.

There are many little dishes. Tea cups and fortunes. I am full and never want to eat again.

I am tired but never want to sleep again.

My bike is in downtown LA surrounded by a sea of nighttime and cars.

Will food always be the enemy? How are backbones developed? Where do morals start to wash away in the tide? Who are you to say? Who am I to hope?

If…my sister were a tree I would climb into her branches and fight off the big business with their sharp axes and words.



Adventure starts here. The breath in my throat tide up on my tongue afraid to ship out to sea.