My girlfriend, Thuy, is lying face down on the floor, naked from the waist up, her head resting on a pillow. An old woman straddles her and, with rhythmic sweeping motions, rubs a silver coin into the exposed flesh. Thuy's back is covered in bruises – vivid purple stripes extending symmetrically outwards from her spine. On a nearby bed two children are playing cards. In a hammock an old man is snoring. Nobody seems interested in the torture scene being enacted under their noses.
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