By the time their son turned sixteen,
nothing seemed like it would ever change,
which usually means it’s about to.
One morning Mrs. Fun put on a Sunday dress and a silk scarf
because she had to go out.
Mr. Fun gave her money to pay their neighbor Hui
who sometimes drove them places,
but Mrs. Fun saved it and took the bus.
When she got to the hospital, she told the doctor
she had been uncomfortable for some time.
The pain had been coming and going,
as though it couldn’t make up its mind.
She got back late with the smell of chemicals on her.
When she saw her husband and son
at the kitchen table with no bowls
Mrs. Fun started to cry and rushed to the sink,
but her husband stood and said firmly,
“Put down that wok!”