Lately I’ve been on a bender of nostalgia. I can’t remember when it all started, but it seems like the new inthing to engage in these days-- reminiscing for a past, an anchor in the vast sea of life that I’ve barely strayed away from. In truth, I do not know what is it that I seek. It starts off, like all other unquantifiable anxieties, as an unease manifesting in the back of my mind whenever the hours get...

Tuesday evening, in the juncture between afternoon and twilight. Return home from school. Mom is on the computer. Sister out for CCA (as usual), dad is away on a business trip. Waiting for catering to arrive with dinner. Picture this: a typical modern family, at a day’s close, each absorbed in their own worlds until dinner arrives. Then: a quick gathering at the table, the murmur of scarce words exchanged, soft tinkering of porcelain bowls and wooden chopsticks, picking at...

the passage of time means little to you- doesn't matter, since between us i keep the time for two. watching your elegies turn to eulogies.