The Mirror
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I used to think I was a good person. When I was younger, I followed the rules. I read the Bible. I obeyed my parents. I was nice to people and helpful. I did all the things “good girls” and “good people” were supposed to do. When I was in my twenties and had moved
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In my 20s, every time I travelled back home to Samoa, I noticed my parents were getting older. By then, I’d been living on my own long enough to understand how hard it was to keep a roof over our heads and the electricity on. I stressed about earning enough to help them, but also
The Hidden Room 