I’m about three or four in this memory. In the evening, my father helps me to take a bath. I wash my body with a small square-shaped burgundy towel, then once I finish and settle in the bathtub, I place my towel on the metal top of a gas tank adjacent to the tub. It’s […]
I’m five in this memory. One weekday morning, I’m watching TV with a spare hair tie in my hand when suddenly, a fun idea occurs to me. A giggle creeps up my throat as I reach for my toddler brother, who is sitting in front of me. His soft hair is short, but long enough
This is a loose continuation of the post Running Late. On those mornings when my father isn’t available, my mother sends me to my friend’s house so that I can walk to kindergarten with them. I leave home early at the same time as my mother leaves for work, then she drops me off at
I’m five or six in this memory. My mother takes me to kindergarten every morning except one day a week when she has work early in the morning. Then, one of the two things happen. Either I go to kindergarten with my friend and her mother, or if my father is up, he takes me.
I’m five years old in this memory. It’s a weekday morning. I never seem to notice the morning’s arrival until my mother comes to wake me up. “Sweetie,” she calls out in a loud voice that yanks me out of sleep. “Time to wake up!” In our tiny living room, my little brother is already
A Weekday Morning Scene Read More »
I’m five years old in this memory. These days, I’m afraid of darkness. Whenever I’m alone in the dark, a sense of insecurity creeps up on me. What if I see something I don’t want to see? Like a ghost? Luckily, my home is so tiny that there isn’t much darkness even in the night.
Once upon a timeA lady took me to a supermarketShe needed a few itemsTo keep in her room:Yogurt and bananas First, we collect yogurtA package of four small onesI keep them on my windowsillShe tells meIt’s cold and works like a fridge Next, we go to bananasHeaps of them await usI like small yellow onesShe
Words about Bananas Read More »
This story is a loose continuation of The Train Speaks. Another unique thing about this local train ride to my grandmother’s was that just before we got onto the train, there was a tiny noodle stand on the platform. It was the size of a regular kiosk one would find on a station platform, but
When I was small, every summer, I used to visit my maternal grandmother in the countryside with my mother. We would take a bullet train to a nearby city, then from there, take a local train to get to the closet station. One of the family members would meet us at the station and drive
Suddenly, an alarm goes offSomebody has pressed the buttonThe one that summons your phantomIt’s already everywhereOverwhelming your sensesSending you to the cliff of panicWhere’s the exit?The ringing of the alarm gettingLouder and louderYou runGasping for the airAnd then –What? There’s no smokeThere’s no fireOnly your phantom is hereIf you want that to disappearAll you need
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