Poems & short stories
My boss stood in the doorway. "Hey, Leah, do you have a second? I need to talk to you."
Things had changed so drastically since I stepped off the ship and set foot in Hong Kong. I, Nadifa, had grown accustomed to the local ways in this city which reverberates with life and is full of surprises and contradictions.
Waving my hand to illustrate my point, I exclaimed: "But you don't even know who they really are!"
Dazzling eyes. Flawless skin. A scintillating smile that lit up the room. All eyes were on the new girl as she walked into our maths class, and I couldn't help wishing I had features as perfect as hers.
My mother handed me my lunch box.
Mum had to pull me out of bed that morning. "Rebecca! Come on, we're late already," she yelled.
I glanced out the window at the magical scene. Snowflakes were falling from the sky, and, seemingly oblivious to the cold, children ran around screaming and laughing, building snowmen and hurling snowballs at each other.
It's true that, while you can choose your friends, you can't choose your family. Last year, I was an ordinary 17-year-old girl, living a middle-class life in a flat in the New Territories with my parents and my elder brother.
The letter arrived in a mysterious way - it turned up under my pillow. How it managed to get there, I have no idea. It was a typical Monday morning, 6.30am, and still dark outside. Despite its small..