CHAPTER 5
With trembling hands, Mr. Tong rinsed his teacups and placed them on the counter. He could not remember the last time he had been blessed with two visitors in one day. He thought about the young girl who brought him the New Testaments, his memories morphing seamlessly into prayer. “Such a young one. Pretty voice.” Mr. Tong had lived alone ever since the Peninsula War. His wife and son had fled south ahead of him, but he did not make it out in time. He could not remember when he started speaking out loud. Sometimes he grew too careless; even conversations with the air could incriminate him if the wrong neighbor happened to overhear.
After drying the dishes, he walked over to the framed photograph of the Dear Leader. Years of loneliness taught him that even a portrait was better
