micro memoir

micro memoir

The Smell of Dumplings

Whenever I smell dumplings, I am back in my mother’s kitchen, learning that love was something you made with your hands. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo

micro memoir

"You need to man up!"

I told my son to man up and stop making excuses. I thought I was teaching strength. I did not know I was yelling at someone who was already sinking. I only understood later, when his bed was empty, and the quiet in his room stopped feeling temporary. P.S.

micro memoir

“How much do you love me?”

“How much do you love me?” I asked my five-year-old daughter. “Two dollars,” she said. I laughed. Years later, I realized it cost far more than that. PS I write books too. They live here: https://payhip.com/samchoo