Chị Tấm is Tired of Being Dead
I crawl out of the persimmon, and it isn’t pretty. A grown woman unfolding from a fruit that could fit into your hand: sinew restringing...
I crawl out of the persimmon, and it isn’t pretty. A grown woman unfolding from a fruit that could fit into your hand: sinew restringing...
There are fairytales about love, of devotion that runs so deep that it can bring back someone from beyond the veil of death. This...