The morning my mother died, I felt a second pulse low in my belly. Not only grief. A faint pull that almost escaped notice. Outside her hospital room, I watched …
Another winter is flowing through my life here, in this freezing country. Back in Hanoi, winter tends to arrive with the suddenness of the northeast monsoon squalls: one muggy evening, …
In the summer, our Parisian half-cousin hosted a lunch at his condominium. I didn’t go. Not because I couldn’t, but because he’d added me to the group chat hours …
“Four!” I exclaim. I’m sitting with my mom at the dining room table, August sun shining through the windows. She just asked how many languages I speak now. “英文、法文、廣東話同國語,” (English, …
The man at the memorial hall had a kind smile. He swiveled in his chair behind the front desk as she came in, and looked at her over his reading …
On my sixth birthday, Ma and I sat across from each other in the kitchen, waiting for Ba. Late again. Ma drummed her fingers with fury on our wobbly folding …
“Dinner together?” the older version of me proposes, her red lips open and close, saying it clear and sound. “Our birthday, my treat.” She takes out the lipstick and adds …
My left earlobe throbs with a familiar pain. A few weeks ago, I removed the infected earring to give the wound some air. After a careful sterilization, I ask my …
I’ve seen Celine Song’s Past Lives (2023) five times, and I can’t seem to stop thinking about how it gorgeously captures immigrant desire, how it renders our experience of looping …
“You’ve got to line up there.” The airport attendant pointed at a flock of people waiting to check in. We were the late bunch, the timid rebels who didn’t arrive …
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