Diego Gallegos

The Truth Always Comes Out.

Black Friday, 2016. I was at a Chinese restaurant with my mother, one just off the busiest boulevard in town. The sky outside was dreary and gray, and it was cold for South Texas. Rain trickled lazily along the outside of the window next to me. Before me, tender strips of beef and cheerfully-green broccoli swam in a sticky, glossy, oaky sauce that stained my steamed white rice amber.