Jessica Au

I thought, and wondered if my mother thought too, of the Catholic school she had enrolled us in, not exactly for the quality of the education, but because of the plaid wool skirts and blue Bibles and experiences such as these, all the things she had been taught to think of and want for herself.

Maybe it’s good, I said, to stop sometimes and reflect upon the things that have happened, maybe thinking about sadness can actually end up making you happy.

But who’s to say how anyone would act on a given day, not to mention the secret places of the soul, where all manner of things could exist?