Writing about evenings alone, feeling out of place in a crowd, and small ways to sit with loneliness without running from it.
An electrician, used to knocking on doors to fix things, stands in a dark corridor and cannot think of one to knock on when there is nothing to repair.
Oct 17, 2026 · 7 min read
A letter written at eight in the evening in a rented room, for someone new to working life who is not used to how quiet it is. It does not tell you to get used to anything. It just sits with you.
Oct 17, 2026 · 3 min read
Staying in the city on Tết eve while everyone else gathers. A few small things for that night and the first morning, not to make it cheerful, only lighter.
Oct 15, 2026 · 7 min read