摘要
Shu Wa had just finished loading a basket with newly ripened rice as rosy clouds of dawn rolled across in the remote sky.“Shu Wa, come have another bowl of food. It’s still very early. No rush!” Shu Wa’s father sat at the dining table, yelling at him. Born with a high-pitched voice, every time he speaks, words are hurled out of his mouth and land on the slope opposite their house.
