Author

The father's day surprise
Father's Day was just around the corner, and eight-year-old Emma was excited to make it the best day ever for her dad, Tom. Tom had been raising Emma alone since she was a baby, and he worked tirelessly to provide for her. Emma wanted to show her appreciation in a way that her dad would never forget. With the help of her grandmother, whom she lovingly called Nana, Emma began to plan a special surprise.
By CHRISTIAN P2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
Fortunately, I went home right away that day. However, if I had hesitated until the next morning, I wouldn't have been able to see my stepmother for the last time. She was lying on the bed, still awake and able to talk, but her belly was swollen as if she was about to give birth, and her skin was pale. My aunt said she had end-stage cirrhosis and ascites, and the clinic had sent her home the previous night.Luyen sat next to her mother, holding her hand tightly. I didn't know if she was being brave and refraining from crying to avoid making her mother sad, or if she was hiding in some corner and shedding all her tears. Her face looked tired from staying up all night, taking care of her mother, worrying, and fearing. My grandmother cried profusely, saying that having a "daughter" like her mother was the greatest blessing of her life, the happiness of my father, Cang, and the whole family.Feeling lost and unsure of what to say or do, I went outside and sat with a heavy heart, contemplating the situation. After a while, my aunt came out and called me into the room so my stepmother could see me. She held my hand tightly, whispering to me that I must study well and pass my exams so that I could take care of Luyen in the future. She sobbed a few times and closed her eyes. Luyen witnessed this and let out a heartbreaking scream, crying out in anguish. My entire family and the neighbors who had come to visit also wept, their faces buried in their hands. I couldn't hold back any longer, and I tightly held my mother's hand, uttering, "Mom... mom...". It was the first and last time I called her "Mom" instead of "Mother." The word that had seemed to have died inside me long ago...My mother didn't give birth to me, but she carried me on her shoulders, enduring the humiliation of being a stepmother, raising and caring for the daughter she found in the ditch as if she were her own child, turning her into my little sister. My mother's love was immense and vast, but I didn't fully realize it until she passed away—it was too late. Even in her final moments, she wanted to shield me from worry and anxiety, asking the family not to tell me about her condition, fearing it would affect my studies. Sometimes, I overheard someone comforting my sister, saying, "For generations, stepmothers love their children as if they were their own..." It reminded me of my mother, her loving embrace, and the affectionate look she gave me when she first met me, saying, "This is Cu Bi, he looks like his dad..."After the funeral, I returned to town to pack my things and then promptly came back home. I made the decision to drop out of school and join my uncle in logging. Even if I wanted to continue my education, I couldn't afford it, and who would take care of Luyen? I stayed at home for about ten days, and as I saw Luyen gradually calming down, I told her during dinner, "Tomorrow, I'll go with Uncle Bay to work. You stay at home and focus on your studies. I'll come back once every two weeks." Hearing this, she forgot her sorrowful expression and exclaimed, "No, you can't drop out of school. If you do, you'll be an unfilial person who doesn't listen to your parents. You have to go to school, starting tomorrow. You already have me at home, worrying about you." She spoke with authority, like an adult, and very decisively. I was taken aback by her words, but I gently told her, explaining my reasons. Eventually, she couldn't argue anymore and simply said, "I dropped out of school after Tet. From tomorrow, I'll sell cakes for my mother. You just go to school... I'll listen to you... You focus on studying." She firmly believed that I should continue my education, and she, as a girl, believed that her studies wouldn't lead her anywhere. She had been helping her mother sell cakes for several months now... At that moment, I was deeply shocked. The bowl of rice in my hand suddenly felt heavy, and I was left speechless. She was the top student in my school, surpassing everyone within just six months. I realized then why I had such high expectations for her, but because of me, because of a person who wasn't her blood relative, it was always a struggle. It was only much later that I discovered, when my mother fell ill and knew she wouldn't survive, she told Luyen to gradually stop going to school and learn to sell cakes, so that in the future... she could use the money to continue her education.The next morning, when I woke up, Luyen had already left to sell cakes. She left me a smallnote, expressing many things. My clothes were neatly folded in my backpack, and there was some money wrapped in newspaper, carefully enclosed in plastic. It was the money my mother had left for me, with the help of my aunts, uncles, and neighbors. It was enough to cover my school expenses for two months.Wiping away my tears, I shouldered my backpack and headed to school, determined to continue my studies. I left behind my little sister, who carried the weight of her responsibilities every day, traversing the steep slopes of the mountainous market, with burdens both physical and emotional.
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
I just arrived home on the twenty-ninth day of Tet. My grandmother and aunt had been waiting at my house for a while. While we were eating, they asked me all sorts of questions and listened quietly as I told stories about studying in town and about things I didn't have in my hometown. I shared all the things that had happened in the six months I was away from home. It was my first time being away, so the family meal felt delicious and unusually cozy, not as painful as when I was back in the countryside. I felt foolish for not appreciating large meals at home before.That night, I took Luyen for a walk. I asked her to tell me stories about home, her studies, and miscellaneous stories from the village. She sat behind me, whispering loudly about the neighbor who had just gotten married, about the dog at home giving birth to two puppies, and how she learned to eat rice so she took it to the market to sell. She also shared stories about her grandmother who used to come and ask when I would be back, and about the secondary school that had just built another block of buildings.At that time, my hometown didn't have street lights, but because it was close to Tet, every house was lit up with bright lights to wrap cakes and display chicken and pork. I drove to a foreign dam on the edge of town, where I used to go to the bathroom with my friends. Sitting on the bank of the dam, feeling the cool wind blowing, and talking to Luyen, I realized that things had changed a lot since I first came here. I had grown up, at least in my mind.As I drifted off to sleep, remembering the time on the dam, I suddenly felt strangely excited. Why did Luyen smile so charmingly just now? Why did she neatly clip the mane I bought for her today? She looked so cute and tidy, not as messy as before. I was in that mood because when I was in high school, I read the first love book of my life, which was "Wuthering Heights." In other words, I had begun to daydream about things that I previously thought were nonsense and despicable.That was 1995, the first year fireworks were banned during Tet. Tet became less fun. Besides, my family was in mourning, so I didn't want to go anywhere. I spent the past few Tet days alone at home with a black-and-white TV that had a creaky latch. On the 5th day of Tet, he returned home. He went back to his hometown to visit his grandmother on the 2nd. He had to return today so he could go back to school on the 7th. She entered the house, wearing a blue pleated skirt and a white round-neck shirt. That was the old-fashioned style of most girls in my hometown. Suppressing my surprise when I first saw her in a dress, I nodded in greeting and continued to look at the TV. But deep down, I was terribly curious. I wanted to turn and look at her, see her figure in the dress, see her dressed up for the first time. I tried to restrain myself from looking away from the TV, but I couldn't resist. I don't know why I did it again. All I know is that even though I looked that way, I had no idea what the TV was showing because my mind and thoughts belonged to another place.I went back to town to continue studying, bringing with me a strange feeling of sadness about my younger sister. The image of her during Tet haunted me. It appeared in my dreams, during my leisurely afternoons, when I sat on a high water tank, in the classroom, and even dimly on the water surface of the lake, startling me as if I were falling asleep.In May, when the cicadas were buzzing in preparation for summer, my aunt wrote me a letter telling me to come home quickly. I found it strange that it wasn't my sister who wrote the letter, but my aunt. Her voice in the letter was unusually urgent. That afternoon, after finishing school, I took a bus and went home that night...
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
Those clumsy childhood days passed quickly, with the same war horse that I carried throughout my childhood and the last days of my student life at the district school. But now, I no longer tried to drive him quickly to scare him. Instead, I drove him straight to school, like an older brother taking his younger sister. Yes, she's my younger sister, and it's the first time in my life that I have one. She's so obedient and gentle. I realized that there was no reason for me to bully her all the time, though I realized this late.But it wasn't too late. I noticed that she saw my change in behavior. I no longer scolded her like before or threatened to beat her whenever she did something foolish. She didn't say anything, but she looked at me strangely, no longer scared like before. It seemed like her eyes sparkled. If she were a puppy, I'm sure her tiny tail would wag.One day, at the end of 9th grade, I was sitting in class when she ran in from somewhere, tears streaming down her face: "Dad got hit by a car, Mr. Bi. They took him to the hospital."I drove as fast as I could to the hospital. This morning, someone had come to take my father to the commune to vaccinate the cattle, promising he would return in the afternoon.As soon as I got there and helped my sister out of the car, I rushed into the emergency room. I knew where he was because my grandmother had been here twice before. My aunts, uncles, and relatives were crowded outside the emergency room. My father was gentle and kind, so he was loved by all of them. When my aunt saw me coming, she ran to hug me and cried. I panicked, my face turned pale, and I stammered: "Dad... how is he... what happened?" She didn't answer, but put her hand over her mouth and sobbed even harder. I was terrified. I ran back and grabbed my brother, uncle, and other relatives, screaming: "What's wrong with dad? What happened?" Nobody had the courage to say it to me, a guy who had lost his mother when he was 3 years old. They were afraid to tell me outright: "Baby, your dad passed away."Since my father's passing, I've become a completely different person. I no longer want to cause trouble in the village or play around and run about. I feel like I'm almost a soulless corpse. My friends look at me differently now, with pity in their eyes. My classmates even organized a visit to my house to "share and console" me, but I knew about it, so I ran away to my grandmother's house. I don't need anyone's pity. I don't need anyone at all. I just need my dad... Dad...My younger sister has also become quieter since then. Every day, I still drive her to school because I only have a few short months left before finishing middle school. As my grandmother said, I have to try my best in my studies so that my parents in the afterlife can feel at ease.My aunt went to talk to my stepmother about letting me stay at her house. She would raise and take care of me. I was in the room, listening to my stepmother speak slowly and gently, with a rather strong Hue accent. She said she loved me like her own child. Since my father had passed away, she felt responsible for raising me to be a good person. She promised not to let me suffer.From then on, my stepmother raised me and my younger sister by selling goods at the hot and rainy market. She woke up early in the morning to make fried and stir-fried packages. I overheard the whispers of mothers and children, trying to avoid making noise. They would say, "Let Mr. Bi sleep." I heard children talking about going to school and discussing great and beautiful things. The American lamp hanging in the kitchen cast the silhouettes of those two little women on the wall. Even in my dreams, I could smell the fragrance of fried onions. Since then, my little sister had to wake up early in the morning to help my mother. I was sleep-deprived. One time, when I drove her to school, I turned around and saw her hand still tightly gripping the seat, but her eyes were already closed, with long and curled eyelashes.Many times, I felt so guilty and tried to get up to help make cakes, but my stepmother refused to let me. She insisted that I go to sleep. She said there were only a few months left until the high school entrance exam, and I needed to pass it to get into the specialized school in the province. She assured me that as long as I studied well, I would bear as much suffering as I could handle. Luyen, my younger sister, hadn't reached that stage yet, so she could help.I finally got accepted into a specialized school in town, and my younger sister was the first to know. She grabbed the newspaper and rushed out to the fishing ditch to find me, looking even more excited than I was. She handed me the paper, her eyes wide and bright. "Look, Mr. Bi," she exclaimed.I held the newspaper in my hand, feeling a mixture of happiness and longing for my dad. If he were still alive, he would throw away his crutches and run to find me. "I have to take the B block exam," I said to myself. "I'll become a real doctor, not just a veterinarian like you."
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
The Sky
The sky, a vast expanse that stretches above us, is a canvas upon which the universe paints its daily and nightly masterpieces. It is a source of wonder and mystery, inspiring poets, philosophers, and seekers of truth throughout the ages. The sky is not just a physical entity; it is a metaphor for the mind’s limitless potential and a reflection of humanity’s quest for enlightenment.
By Sandy May2 years ago in BookClub
Stephen King Short Story
This is a review of Stephen King's short story, The Death of Jack Hamilton. John Dillinger was a criminal in his teens. When he was arrested for beating up a businessman, his father told him to plead guilty and take his punishment. The problem is they punished 20-year-old Johnnie too severely with a 10-20-year sentence, although he had no previous record. His accomplice, who had a record, had a good lawyer and only did a few years. Dillinger's wife of four years divorced him. He did nine years, part of which he did in the Indiana penitentiary, at his request, because he played ball and said their team was better.
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in BookClub
THE 1995 PRIDE & PREJUDICE SUCKS!
Okay, so it doesn't suck. I actually do enjoy the 1995 version of Pride & Prejudice, directed by Simon Langton. However, I believe that the 2005 version, directed by Joe Wright, is the superior version! And although I should just be able to say "it's better" and this be the end of the article (because it is just factually correct), I will provide my evidence now as to why 2005 Pride & Prejudice is better than 1995 Pride & Prejudice.
By The Austen Shelf2 years ago in BookClub
Strange Things in Africa.
Jos, the capital city of Plateau State in Nigeria, is renowned for its cool climate, earning it the nickname "Switzerland of Nigeria." Situated at an elevation of approximately 1,238 meters above sea level, Jos boasts a unique climate among Nigerian cities. This highland region lies in what is commonly referred to as Nigeria's Middle Belt, known for its welcoming and gentle populace. Interestingly, many local names in Jos resemble those found in Asian countries, such as Zhang Zhang and Layoung.
By Olufemi Afolabi2 years ago in BookClub
Love does not have to have
In our culture that often celebrates narratives of love that are full of ownership and claims, the idea that love doesn't have to be owned is often seen as a foreign or even strange concept. However, if we dig deeper, we will find old wisdom that says that true love is actually about giving freedom, not enslaving.
By muhammaddwi anugrahrizky2 years ago in BookClub
555 Angel Number: Embracing the Power of Manifestation
In the mystical realm of numerology, certain numbers carry profound significance, believed to be messages from the divine or higher realms. One such number is 555, often referred to as the "angel number." As we delve into the meaning behind this numerical sequence, we uncover a tapestry of insights, urging us to embrace the power of manifestation and transformation in our lives.
By Zodiacvista2 years ago in BookClub
Your Feedback Matters
Hello, wonderful readers! I am beyond excited to share some amazing news with you—my new romance novel, "Eternal Embrace: A Love Story," has just been published on Amazon! This book is a labor of love, and I can't wait for you to dive into the world of Josephine and James in the charming town of Belleville.
By Justice Cudjoe2 years ago in BookClub
Michael Mosley, a British doctor and TV presenter who went missing, was discovered dead on a Greek island.
"Michael was an adventurous man, and that's part of what made him so special," his wife, Dr. Clare Bailey Mosley, told the Associated Press. "I am devastated to have lost Michael, my amazing, humorous, kind, and bright husband. We had a really lucky life together. We adored one other and were really happy together."
By TaphTaph2 years ago in BookClub