Untitled Storyboard

Csúszik: 1
I saw that my mother had outdone herself in creating a strange menu. She waspulling black veins out of the backs of fleshy prawns. The kitchen was littered with appalling mounds ofraw food: A slimy rock cod with bulging eyes that pleaded not to be thrown into a pan of hot oil. Tofu,which looked like stacked wedges of rubbery white sponges. A bowl soaking dried fungus back to life.A plate of squid, their backs crisscrossed with knife markings so they resembled bicycle tires.
Csúszik: 2
And then they arrived – the minister's family and all my relatives in a clamor of doorbells andrumpled Christmas packages. Robert grunted hello, and I pretended he was not worthy of existence. Dinner threw me deeper into despair.
Csúszik: 3
thanking my mother for her finecooking. "It's a polite Chinese custom to show you are satisfied," explained my father to our astonishedguests. Robert was looking down at his plate with a reddened face. The minister managed to muster up aquiet burp. I was stunned into silence for the rest of the night

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