Lindy (1) I remember the first time Lindy walked into my home. She lifted her tiny feet and set them down gingerly on the smooth, polished wooden floor, like a child venturing onto freshly-fallen snow: trembling, hesitating, afraid to dirty the pure white blanket, terrified of sinking into and disappearing beneath the featureless fluff. I … Continue reading Goodnight, Melancholy by Xia Jia, translated by Ken Liu