Dialogue Essays: Skylights
All she does is shake her head, as if to say you have so much to learn. We walk back to our Unit, 17. It is a long walk, but it doesn’t matter.
“Lai, please come here.” My mother calls. I run through the house as fast as I can, barely avoiding my little brothers and sisters in the process.
“Lai, hurry! I am in the kitchen.” Mother calls again. I am in the empty kitchen soon, and I see my mother, pale and skinny sitting in the chair that was claimed hers.
“What is it, Mother?” I ask