The Letters
BR31. 15 hours and 24 minutes. From JFK to TPE. Departs at 1:33 a.m. I’m going back—to see my family, and of course, you.
When I heard your name from my mom on the phone last night, it felt like only yesterday we had lingered after school, as if time would never touch us—we were on your bike, laughing and talking, or in our usual corner beside the banyan tree
When I heard your name from my mom on the phone last night, it felt like only yesterday we had lingered after school, as if time would never touch us—we were on your bike, laughing and talking, or in our usual corner beside the banyan tree
“The Daughter,” “The Mother,” and “The Grandma”
The night—quiet but full of hushed bickering—
returned. I put on headphones, but in vain.
The moon was bright yet restlessly flickering.
Looking at the photos on the wall—once sweet—
I could feel the lies and yelling
returned. I put on headphones, but in vain.
The moon was bright yet restlessly flickering.
Looking at the photos on the wall—once sweet—
I could feel the lies and yelling