A Frame in My Childhood
Dusk,
the sweet scent of the cooked rice lingering in the air,
The muffled murmur, laughter, yelling, gossip, warm up the night,
The yellowish light pouring out from the window reminds me that there is a home there,
The alley is alive.
But I can’t conquer my fear,
Thousands of worms are creeping in my stomach, chewing whatever left inside of me.
When the sun goes down, my heart goes down.
