02.26.1999
Whenever the sunlight proved too burdensome for me to bear, I found shade in two places. One was the abandoned playground at the back of our red-brick church. I remember meandering along the shaded, narrow path that led to it while listening to soft background music, and because the church lay nestled beneath a hill… Continue reading remembrance of days past
"He ate his breakfast with his back against the tree, reading the magazine while he ate. He had previously read but one story; he began now upon the second one, reading the magazine straight through as though it were a novel. Now and then he would look up from the page, chewing, into the sunshot… Continue reading perfect days
In the scorching summer sun,A young boy is playing soccer by himself. He’s in his front yard, commentating his every move.And here comes Kim! He's driving, dribbling, shoots.... GOAL!!!The neighborhood kids are laughing at him, but he doesn’t mind. He’s wearing the jersey of his favorite player.Manchester United, #13. J.S. Park.His dream is to become… Continue reading dreamer
It is Valentine’s Eve at my mom’s flower shop. I enter through the rear entrance and head straight to the cramped, grimly lit back office to drop off my backpack. My dad—a typically easygoing, happy-go-lucky guy—is absorbed in his work, sipping black coffee while sternly mapping out flower delivery routes at his desk. Between him… Continue reading cleaning roses
I came across To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf in February of 2025 after learning that her style shared similarities to Faulkner, a writer known for utilizing stream-of-consciousness to explore the complex depths of his characters. From the opening pages, I was blown away. Time is relative; mere seconds in the story stretch across several… Continue reading but this is what i see
marginalia 