'A Gift' by Heain Joung

I walk out of the hotel. The noise, smells, colours, everything is the other side of comfortable. I wonder why am I here. She stands in front of me, her baby brother on her hip. She looks about seven. I try to imagine her life but give up. She calls me, “Sister,” and puts out her hand. I give her a coin. “You can give me more, can’t you, you have more,” she says. I stutter, “How dare you.” She then says she knows that. I am not sure of what she knows, but I put a couple of coins on her palm. She smiles, then says, “I knew you had more.”

Maybe,

she is right,

I have more,

more,

more of stories.