Theresa Wong

Articles

One night, I sat on my side of the kitchen wall, watching something on my phone over the sound of my friend’s younger brother watching something on his, and our laughter synced momentarily. It was the loneliest sound in the world.

She was so ill that she hardly noticed when her coworkers stopped partying around her. Shrieks of drunken laughter turned into panicked screams and a splash as her boss fell overboard.

I hardly knew some of the people there yet it was, in some comforting, familiar way, its own family meal.

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