Tan Feng was my one and only friend in Sichuan. He was the same age as me: about eight or nine. Tan Feng’s family lived next door to us, and their other kids were all girls, so you can imagine how they spoiled their only boy. They really adored him, but they didn’t know what he got up to. Tan Feng stole things.
Part of the Storycuts series, this short story was previously published in the collection Madwoman on the Bridge.
