Kiu's fingers fumbled as he tried to add another fold to the dumpling.

However, the high school student was unfamiliar with this sort of dexterous culinary work. His thumb accidentally squeezed the filling, and a blob of seasoned turkey mush came spilling out of the pocket. It dropped onto the table with a plop, nearly missing a large tray of neatly folded fresh dumplings laid out on a cutting board.

He furrowed his eyebrows and scowled with frustration.

"Nice shot." Kiu's dad was sarcastic as he passed by the kitchen table, holding a can of unopened alcoholic seltzer.

A floating television screen followed the man as he walked out of the cooking area without further comment. 

Kiu's mom was slightly more sympathetic.

"Patience, Kiu." She said. "Pinch it from the center, and don't try to stuff it with so much filling."

The two of them were folding dumplings together at the kitchen table.

"Less is more. It becomes difficult to fold if you try to fit too much at once." 

"I'm trying," Kiu insisted.

"I can see. Keep working at it, and you'll get it eventually."

The reassurance was lackluster. The pair of them had been going at this for half an hour already, and it was plainly obvious on the tray of completed raw dumplings which ones had been assembled by Kiu.

Despite the fact that he cooked on a regular basis, there were still many of his culinary skills that lagged behind his mother's. Ethnic food — particularly Chinese food — was one of his major deficiencies. As a child, Kiu had learned most of his recipes from the Internet or watching cooking videos; his mother was usually too busy with the company to actually teach him cooking skills in person. Consequently, Kiu had never quite learned any "family recipes" that had been passed down for generations.

Dumpling folding was a ubiquitous tradition in China, and most ethic Chinese could recall fond memories of making dumplings with their family during their childhood. The classic food is analogous to having turkey in an American Thanksgiving. Although... dumplings were for the Lunar New Year... not Thanksgiving.

Today’s menu was a weird fusion, by all means.

Kiu's father was in the living room watching the American football game that aired annually on Thanksgiving. Kiu had never been a huge sports fan, and spending time with his mother was preferable to watching two teams run around with an oddly shaped ball. For years, he helped out with preparing the Thanksgiving turkey in the kitchen, to the point it was practically a tradition now.

"Mom, why are doing turkey dumplings?" Kiu asked absentmindedly.

"Well why not?"

"It's not very American. Or Chinese for that matter."

"If you can grind it up, you can put it in a dumpling. I see no issue with that. There's even stuffing and potatoes included in the mix."

"It's a... very..." Kiu paused, searching for words. "...distressing... take on Chinese American food."

"It's innovative, dear. Innovative." She corrected him.

The high school student winced. Frankly, his honest opinion was that his mother completely forgot about Thanksgiving this year, so there wasn't enough time for them to marinate a whole turkey. Fusion turkey dumplings were just... a last minute salvage attempt.

Somehow, he was positive that at least somebody must have tried such a blasphemous recipe in the past five hundred years. And if it hadn't caught on after all this time, it must not have tasted very good.

Kiu was not particularly eager to see how this was going to turn out.

+ + +

Regardless, it took a fair amount of concentration to attempt folding dumplings properly, and the repetitive labor distracted Kiu from whatever bothersome worries that were stewing at the back of his mind.

He listened to his mom chatter, and she was quite talkative. Her interests, topics, and thought processes were like popcorn. One moment she was talking about the philosophical ramifications of how a strange mammal known as the platypus went extinct and the next moment she was talking about how the latest approximations in quantum computing had serious deterministic flaws. She seemed to know a little bit of everything, and even the task of following her train of thought required encyclopedic knowledge.

Time must have passed very quickly, because soon enough Kiu's dad was back in the kitchen asking if the food was ready yet.

"It's already halftime for the football game! What's taking so long?" He asked.

"Oh my! Already?" Kiu's mom seemed surprised. "But I was having such a good conversation with Kiu." 

Incidentally, Kiu disagreed with that evaluation. It was barely a conversation.

Most of it was his mom talking to herself and Kiu just nodding along, craning his neck while attempting to perfect a minuscule dumpling fold. This was fairly typical for most circumstances too. In fact, Kiu was somewhat confident that he could be replaced with a house cat and his mom would still think she had an equally enthralling conversation.

She sort of had a knack for talking to almost anything. Even a pet rock would have been fine.

His parents started blabbering with each other, and Kiu spaced out entirely. 

He spared off into the distance, and in particular, his eyes were drawn to the floating transparent television screen that was still following his father around. At some point, his dad must have tabbed away from the halftime show to a news channel.

The sound was muted, but he could read the subtitles. 

+ + +

Legislators at the California State House continue to debate the legality of violent virtual reality games.

Recent advances in virtual reality and artificial intelligence have made the digital world indistinguishable from Earth. Special Correspondent Niels reports from San Franscisco on fringe online communities dedicated to reenacting taboo behaviors, including pedophilia, murder, rape, dismemberment, slavery, and other sexual and violent behaviors.

Software companies are lobbying to protect user expression and privacy rights on their platforms. Proponents argue that the digital space and NPCs provide an "outlet" for healthy individuals to express themselves without harming real people. They cite data that playing violent virtual reality games is not associated with increased violent or criminal behavior on Earth.

The bill sponsored by social conservatives was struck down today by the California Supreme Court, following international precedent that civil rights law does not extend to cover non-human NPCs in digital spaces. This marks a major defeat for social conservatives...

+ + +

"Kiu?"

The black-haired boy looked up from the television, and his mother was staring at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

His mother stood up from the table and walked over to the sink to get a pot of water boiling.

"You seem distracted today. If we're any slower with the dumplings, your dad is going to start complaining."

"...I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine." He repeated himself again.

"Sometimes just going through the motions of life is important. Even if you're not totally sure where to go, you've just got to keep folding dumplings. Sure, it sounds like a simple task, but you'd be surprised. The dumplings will definitely show you the way."

The black-haired child shot back an exasperated look.

"...Mom... you’re just making stuff up." Kiu complained, his nose twitching.

She laughed.

"So? If I'm right, does it matter?"

Kiu scowled and decided to change the topic, since arguing with his mother was impossible.

His father walked out of the kitchen again, with the levitating television screen continuing to trail him.

"Why is dad here again?" Kiu asked as soon as he was out of earshot.

"Because I asked him to be here."

"The two of you are divorced."

"So? I can't invite him over for dinner?"

Kiu blinked a few times, and then sighed. He focused on the thin piece of dough in his hands.

"...Ugh, never mind."

Sometimes his mother simply just didn't make sense.

Kiu finished folding another dumpling and added it to the platter.

Thankfully, this one was slightly better shaped than the other ones.