At 16, the world felt soft at the edges. My mother took care of everything, and the days moved slowly enough to notice.
I remember a summer volunteer trip — nights outside the city, a friend named Phương, moments of being young and away from home for the first time. The particular freedom of that age: not yet weighted by the things that come later.
Years later, hearing a certain song still brings it back — rain falling on the porch, the smell of the afternoon, that feeling of life not yet complicated by itself.
Some memories deserve to be kept exactly as they are.
— Thiện Minh