An elderly woman. Walking into this hotel overthere. Clothes so expensive that I want to take them – making money out of them, feeding my kids with. Her hair – golden. Minutes passing by. But this black car in front of the hotel doesn’t move. There she comes again. Her hair looks changed – shorter, a lot more golden than before. She waves into my direction. But can she see me? She disappears, the black car races by.
Later, I’m told that she was from America. She must be someone important, seeing all these men in black at her side.
But why did she get her hair done in China? Don’t they have hairdressers in this country called “America”?