A walking Diary

Their hands locked tightly.

I started my daily walk this morning, deciding to buy some peach from the Valumart. On the road leading to the middle school, a grandpa and his middle-school grandson, pulling a rolling backpack, were at the other side of the road. The grandpa tightly held his grandson’s hand as if the boy who, although Read more…

By Marie Chen, ago

The Tree

This is me, my voice is heard only when the wind is blowing. I grow and get old while observing and taking in everything.  

By Marie Chen, ago