Book of the Week

Unrequited Whispers. Content Warning.
Isabella had always been a romantic at heart. She cherished the idea of love, not as a fleeting emotion, but as a profound connection that could weather any storm. Her heart yearned for that deep, abiding bond, but life had other plans. For years, she had carried a secret love for her best friend, Michael, a love that remained unspoken and unreciprocated.
By allister apoles2 years ago in BookClub
This is NOT Education
“I promise to question everything my leaders tell me. I promise to use my critical faculties. I promise to develop my independence of thought. I promise to educate myself so I can make my own judgements.” Carl Sagan
By Waleed Mahmud Tariq2 years ago in BookClub
The Silent Steps . Content Warning.
In the small, dust-covered town of Eldridge, life moved slowly, marked by the rhythm of the seasons and the ebb and flow of simple routines. Yet, amidst the ordinary cadence, there was a man who stood out—a man whose presence spoke volumes without uttering a single word. His name was Samuel, but to the townspeople, he was known as "the man with no shoes."
By allister apoles2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
The school in town is completely different from the one in my hometown. Although it lacks the cool shade of trees, it is very spacious and clean. After the initial two days of confusion, the son of our neighbor in the countryside helped me find a room near the school. I share the room with a Tay guy who came to the town to study on a scholarship.Outside of school, I often take walks near the lake, go to the stadium to watch football matches, and sometimes, when I feel too sad, I climb up the water tower near the school to sit and gaze at the small houses, cars, and trees below. Being in a new school and class, most of my classmates come from well-off families in the town. With my poor and unsophisticated appearance, it's difficult for me to fit in with them. However, I don't really mind. I don't have a strong desire to socialize with anyone; I just want to go to school and come back home. If someone asks me something, I will answer, but otherwise, I'm fine spending whole days without saying a word. For some time, I was considered an eccentric in the class, but it didn't bother me much.Every month, at the beginning of the month, my stepmother sends me rice, money, salt, and other necessary items. Without fail, she ensures I never go hungry or lack anything. Sometimes, the children write letters to me. The letters usually have three parts: one from my grandmother, one from my stepmother, and a short line at the end from the children saying, "Mr. Bi, try to study well..." Even though the content is often the same, I still feel excited every time I receive a letter. My stepmother's handwriting is round and neat, and I can sense her emotions through the words.Despite the school not being too far from my house, around 50 kilometers, in the past, it was challenging to make the journey and we were concerned about the expenses. Therefore, I always stayed at school until Tet (Lunar New Year) and didn't go home.One day, when I returned home from school, I saw Luyen standing in front of the house, holding a piece of paper with an address in her hand. I was surprised and asked her, "Did you ride your bike all the way here? It's such a long distance, are you crazy?"She explained that she had two days off, so she came to visit me. She left at 5:00 a.m. and had just arrived. Moreover, she also wanted to see what the town was like.I helped her unload the items from her bicycle—a bag of rice, my grandmother's cakes, half of an aunt's duck, and a bag of crushed grilled rice paper due to the long journey.That night, she slept in my room because I didn't want her to ride back home at night, fearing for her safety. The Tay guy knew what to do, so he went to sleep over at a neighbor's house. Since my room was small, there wasn't enough space for three people. Luyen was tired from the long journey, so she took a shower and then fell asleep. I sat and studied until late at night.My room is only 12 square meters wide and cluttered with various things, so the sleeping area also serves as the dining and reception area. I lay down next to her, which was the first time in my life I slept so close to a girl. I turned to face the wall, but something compelled me to turn and look at her. Luyen is in 8th grade now, entering adolescence. In the dim light of the study lamp, I suddenly realized that she was no longer the dark-skinned girl from before. After two years at home, where she no longer had to tend to buffaloes or catch snails, and no longer had to endure hardships, she had become plump and her skin had become much fairer. I lay on my side, facing her, and suddenly I realized that compared to all the girls I had ever met or studied with, she was the most beautiful... She was incredibly beautiful, and I wondered why I had only just realized it now. Maybe it was because I had been away from home for half a year, and everything seemed unfamiliar...I gazed at her until midnight, then went out for a walk. I was afraid of myself, afraid of my trembling hands reaching out and pulling back, afraid of my own desires. I felt repulsive and ugly, like a devil...The next morning, I wrote a letter requesting permission to leave school and took her around town. With just a little over half a month left until Tet, the streets were unusually beautiful. Or perhaps it was something within me that made everything suddenly appear beautiful? I wasn't sure anymore; all I knew was that Luyen stared blankly at the rows of tall buildings and the bustling, crowded market, which were completely different from thesmall, deserted market back home.I drove her to my school to show her around, bought her a sandwich from outside the school gate, which wasn't available in the countryside, and even bought her a hairpin. It had been a while since I had seen her smile. Her smile was different from other girls; there was a hint of distant sadness in it, even though I knew she was genuinely happy.When it was time for her to leave, I blurted out, "Be careful when riding back. When you reach home, go to Ms. Tu's house and call me using the number I just wrote down." After saying that, I realized it was the first time I had called her "you." But it didn't matter; I could tell we were both old enough to address each other that way, and I knew it made her happy.
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
The new school is nearly 50km away from my house. Unfortunately, I can't cycle such a long distance with my broken bicycle. If I were to attend high school there, I would have to study away from home, possibly even abroad. The problem is not that I don't want to go to a school far away, but rather the various problems that would arise if I stayed in a boarding house – accommodation, food, school expenses, electricity, water, and so on. The most significant issue is money, which my family lacks the most at this time, especially since my father, the breadwinner, is no longer with us.While we were having a meal, I shared my thoughts with my stepmother: "It's okay for me to stay home and study. If I live in a boarding house, I won't have the money to continue my education. Besides, I prefer staying at home. I'll find someone to play with here." Upon hearing this, she stopped eating and spoke to me in a serious manner: "Listen to me, you must go to school. If I can take care of everything, you can focus on studying. In the future, I will grow old and weak, and won't have the strength anymore. Then, you will have to take care of Luyen's child on my behalf..." She spoke at length, emphasizing that I must fulfill my father's wishes, reminding me that the future is long, and that I should study well and be a role model for my younger siblings. She herself had limited education and struggled to express herself fully, but she understood the pain of not being able to go to school, not having the opportunity to receive an education. Luyen sat quietly and listened; she also wanted me to go to school, and she even expressed her own desire to attend school in the future. She mentioned that if she could attend a specialized school like me, she would study to become a teacher.One day, at the end of August, I woke up very early to prepare for my departure. I wrapped myself in a sweater and a hood to protect against the cold weather. My backpack was packed with Luyen's clothes which she had prepared for me the day before, along with a bag containing a jar of dried shrimp made by my stepmother, a bag of rice in a stork bran bag, and a few miscellaneous items. In our area, the local transportation facilities were scarce. Whenever we needed to travel, we had to rely on coal cars. Whenever my father went to town to buy medicine or attend agricultural skills classes, his clothes would be soaked in sweat, and coal dust and soot would stick to him, making him pitch black and his face dirty, like Bao Cong...That was also the first time in my life that I left the impoverished district town where I was born and raised. On that day, my stepmother had to continue selling goods because if she stopped for even a day, her capital would be depleted. The previous night, she had given me thorough instructions. As I sat and listened to her guidance, I began to sense her feelings towards me, her stepchild whom she had to deal with every day, a child who was often rebellious and caused trouble...I took Luyen to my grandmother's house, with her sitting behind me and holding my backpack and belongings. My grandmother knew I would visit her that morning, so she stood outside the door with her cane, waiting. After spending some time talking with my grandmother, I reminded her to return home in time for the car. She handed me a tightly rolled ball of money, secured with an elastic band, and told me to use it as needed. The money was old and worn. Perhaps my grandmother had been saving it for a long time... She told me to study hard and become a doctor so that I could treat her back pain and her eyes, and so she could proudly tell everyone in the neighborhood, "My son Bi has achieved great success. He passed the exam and got into the biggest school in town..." Now that I have become a doctor, my grandmother has already passed away...The bus station in my hometown is nothing more than an empty lot near the market. In the morning, it serves as a bus station; at noon, it becomes a place for fish traders to dry their fish; and in the afternoon, it turns into a soccer field for children. Luyen insisted on waiting for me to get on the bus before leaving. I was squeezed into the last row of seats. I pressed my face against the rear window, watching her small figure fade away in the mist of the mountain morning. Later, whenever I had the opportunity to travel by car or bus, I would often choose the last row of seats, the place most people avoided, just to occasionally look out the window, searching for something, something vague...
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
Fortunately, I went home right away that day. However, if I had hesitated until the next morning, I wouldn't have been able to see my stepmother for the last time. She was lying on the bed, still awake and able to talk, but her belly was swollen as if she was about to give birth, and her skin was pale. My aunt said she had end-stage cirrhosis and ascites, and the clinic had sent her home the previous night.Luyen sat next to her mother, holding her hand tightly. I didn't know if she was being brave and refraining from crying to avoid making her mother sad, or if she was hiding in some corner and shedding all her tears. Her face looked tired from staying up all night, taking care of her mother, worrying, and fearing. My grandmother cried profusely, saying that having a "daughter" like her mother was the greatest blessing of her life, the happiness of my father, Cang, and the whole family.Feeling lost and unsure of what to say or do, I went outside and sat with a heavy heart, contemplating the situation. After a while, my aunt came out and called me into the room so my stepmother could see me. She held my hand tightly, whispering to me that I must study well and pass my exams so that I could take care of Luyen in the future. She sobbed a few times and closed her eyes. Luyen witnessed this and let out a heartbreaking scream, crying out in anguish. My entire family and the neighbors who had come to visit also wept, their faces buried in their hands. I couldn't hold back any longer, and I tightly held my mother's hand, uttering, "Mom... mom...". It was the first and last time I called her "Mom" instead of "Mother." The word that had seemed to have died inside me long ago...My mother didn't give birth to me, but she carried me on her shoulders, enduring the humiliation of being a stepmother, raising and caring for the daughter she found in the ditch as if she were her own child, turning her into my little sister. My mother's love was immense and vast, but I didn't fully realize it until she passed away—it was too late. Even in her final moments, she wanted to shield me from worry and anxiety, asking the family not to tell me about her condition, fearing it would affect my studies. Sometimes, I overheard someone comforting my sister, saying, "For generations, stepmothers love their children as if they were their own..." It reminded me of my mother, her loving embrace, and the affectionate look she gave me when she first met me, saying, "This is Cu Bi, he looks like his dad..."After the funeral, I returned to town to pack my things and then promptly came back home. I made the decision to drop out of school and join my uncle in logging. Even if I wanted to continue my education, I couldn't afford it, and who would take care of Luyen? I stayed at home for about ten days, and as I saw Luyen gradually calming down, I told her during dinner, "Tomorrow, I'll go with Uncle Bay to work. You stay at home and focus on your studies. I'll come back once every two weeks." Hearing this, she forgot her sorrowful expression and exclaimed, "No, you can't drop out of school. If you do, you'll be an unfilial person who doesn't listen to your parents. You have to go to school, starting tomorrow. You already have me at home, worrying about you." She spoke with authority, like an adult, and very decisively. I was taken aback by her words, but I gently told her, explaining my reasons. Eventually, she couldn't argue anymore and simply said, "I dropped out of school after Tet. From tomorrow, I'll sell cakes for my mother. You just go to school... I'll listen to you... You focus on studying." She firmly believed that I should continue my education, and she, as a girl, believed that her studies wouldn't lead her anywhere. She had been helping her mother sell cakes for several months now... At that moment, I was deeply shocked. The bowl of rice in my hand suddenly felt heavy, and I was left speechless. She was the top student in my school, surpassing everyone within just six months. I realized then why I had such high expectations for her, but because of me, because of a person who wasn't her blood relative, it was always a struggle. It was only much later that I discovered, when my mother fell ill and knew she wouldn't survive, she told Luyen to gradually stop going to school and learn to sell cakes, so that in the future... she could use the money to continue her education.The next morning, when I woke up, Luyen had already left to sell cakes. She left me a smallnote, expressing many things. My clothes were neatly folded in my backpack, and there was some money wrapped in newspaper, carefully enclosed in plastic. It was the money my mother had left for me, with the help of my aunts, uncles, and neighbors. It was enough to cover my school expenses for two months.Wiping away my tears, I shouldered my backpack and headed to school, determined to continue my studies. I left behind my little sister, who carried the weight of her responsibilities every day, traversing the steep slopes of the mountainous market, with burdens both physical and emotional.
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
I just arrived home on the twenty-ninth day of Tet. My grandmother and aunt had been waiting at my house for a while. While we were eating, they asked me all sorts of questions and listened quietly as I told stories about studying in town and about things I didn't have in my hometown. I shared all the things that had happened in the six months I was away from home. It was my first time being away, so the family meal felt delicious and unusually cozy, not as painful as when I was back in the countryside. I felt foolish for not appreciating large meals at home before.That night, I took Luyen for a walk. I asked her to tell me stories about home, her studies, and miscellaneous stories from the village. She sat behind me, whispering loudly about the neighbor who had just gotten married, about the dog at home giving birth to two puppies, and how she learned to eat rice so she took it to the market to sell. She also shared stories about her grandmother who used to come and ask when I would be back, and about the secondary school that had just built another block of buildings.At that time, my hometown didn't have street lights, but because it was close to Tet, every house was lit up with bright lights to wrap cakes and display chicken and pork. I drove to a foreign dam on the edge of town, where I used to go to the bathroom with my friends. Sitting on the bank of the dam, feeling the cool wind blowing, and talking to Luyen, I realized that things had changed a lot since I first came here. I had grown up, at least in my mind.As I drifted off to sleep, remembering the time on the dam, I suddenly felt strangely excited. Why did Luyen smile so charmingly just now? Why did she neatly clip the mane I bought for her today? She looked so cute and tidy, not as messy as before. I was in that mood because when I was in high school, I read the first love book of my life, which was "Wuthering Heights." In other words, I had begun to daydream about things that I previously thought were nonsense and despicable.That was 1995, the first year fireworks were banned during Tet. Tet became less fun. Besides, my family was in mourning, so I didn't want to go anywhere. I spent the past few Tet days alone at home with a black-and-white TV that had a creaky latch. On the 5th day of Tet, he returned home. He went back to his hometown to visit his grandmother on the 2nd. He had to return today so he could go back to school on the 7th. She entered the house, wearing a blue pleated skirt and a white round-neck shirt. That was the old-fashioned style of most girls in my hometown. Suppressing my surprise when I first saw her in a dress, I nodded in greeting and continued to look at the TV. But deep down, I was terribly curious. I wanted to turn and look at her, see her figure in the dress, see her dressed up for the first time. I tried to restrain myself from looking away from the TV, but I couldn't resist. I don't know why I did it again. All I know is that even though I looked that way, I had no idea what the TV was showing because my mind and thoughts belonged to another place.I went back to town to continue studying, bringing with me a strange feeling of sadness about my younger sister. The image of her during Tet haunted me. It appeared in my dreams, during my leisurely afternoons, when I sat on a high water tank, in the classroom, and even dimly on the water surface of the lake, startling me as if I were falling asleep.In May, when the cicadas were buzzing in preparation for summer, my aunt wrote me a letter telling me to come home quickly. I found it strange that it wasn't my sister who wrote the letter, but my aunt. Her voice in the letter was unusually urgent. That afternoon, after finishing school, I took a bus and went home that night...
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
Heaven's Sister
Those clumsy childhood days passed quickly, with the same war horse that I carried throughout my childhood and the last days of my student life at the district school. But now, I no longer tried to drive him quickly to scare him. Instead, I drove him straight to school, like an older brother taking his younger sister. Yes, she's my younger sister, and it's the first time in my life that I have one. She's so obedient and gentle. I realized that there was no reason for me to bully her all the time, though I realized this late.But it wasn't too late. I noticed that she saw my change in behavior. I no longer scolded her like before or threatened to beat her whenever she did something foolish. She didn't say anything, but she looked at me strangely, no longer scared like before. It seemed like her eyes sparkled. If she were a puppy, I'm sure her tiny tail would wag.One day, at the end of 9th grade, I was sitting in class when she ran in from somewhere, tears streaming down her face: "Dad got hit by a car, Mr. Bi. They took him to the hospital."I drove as fast as I could to the hospital. This morning, someone had come to take my father to the commune to vaccinate the cattle, promising he would return in the afternoon.As soon as I got there and helped my sister out of the car, I rushed into the emergency room. I knew where he was because my grandmother had been here twice before. My aunts, uncles, and relatives were crowded outside the emergency room. My father was gentle and kind, so he was loved by all of them. When my aunt saw me coming, she ran to hug me and cried. I panicked, my face turned pale, and I stammered: "Dad... how is he... what happened?" She didn't answer, but put her hand over her mouth and sobbed even harder. I was terrified. I ran back and grabbed my brother, uncle, and other relatives, screaming: "What's wrong with dad? What happened?" Nobody had the courage to say it to me, a guy who had lost his mother when he was 3 years old. They were afraid to tell me outright: "Baby, your dad passed away."Since my father's passing, I've become a completely different person. I no longer want to cause trouble in the village or play around and run about. I feel like I'm almost a soulless corpse. My friends look at me differently now, with pity in their eyes. My classmates even organized a visit to my house to "share and console" me, but I knew about it, so I ran away to my grandmother's house. I don't need anyone's pity. I don't need anyone at all. I just need my dad... Dad...My younger sister has also become quieter since then. Every day, I still drive her to school because I only have a few short months left before finishing middle school. As my grandmother said, I have to try my best in my studies so that my parents in the afterlife can feel at ease.My aunt went to talk to my stepmother about letting me stay at her house. She would raise and take care of me. I was in the room, listening to my stepmother speak slowly and gently, with a rather strong Hue accent. She said she loved me like her own child. Since my father had passed away, she felt responsible for raising me to be a good person. She promised not to let me suffer.From then on, my stepmother raised me and my younger sister by selling goods at the hot and rainy market. She woke up early in the morning to make fried and stir-fried packages. I overheard the whispers of mothers and children, trying to avoid making noise. They would say, "Let Mr. Bi sleep." I heard children talking about going to school and discussing great and beautiful things. The American lamp hanging in the kitchen cast the silhouettes of those two little women on the wall. Even in my dreams, I could smell the fragrance of fried onions. Since then, my little sister had to wake up early in the morning to help my mother. I was sleep-deprived. One time, when I drove her to school, I turned around and saw her hand still tightly gripping the seat, but her eyes were already closed, with long and curled eyelashes.Many times, I felt so guilty and tried to get up to help make cakes, but my stepmother refused to let me. She insisted that I go to sleep. She said there were only a few months left until the high school entrance exam, and I needed to pass it to get into the specialized school in the province. She assured me that as long as I studied well, I would bear as much suffering as I could handle. Luyen, my younger sister, hadn't reached that stage yet, so she could help.I finally got accepted into a specialized school in town, and my younger sister was the first to know. She grabbed the newspaper and rushed out to the fishing ditch to find me, looking even more excited than I was. She handed me the paper, her eyes wide and bright. "Look, Mr. Bi," she exclaimed.I held the newspaper in my hand, feeling a mixture of happiness and longing for my dad. If he were still alive, he would throw away his crutches and run to find me. "I have to take the B block exam," I said to myself. "I'll become a real doctor, not just a veterinarian like you."
By Quang2 years ago in BookClub
The Sky
The sky, a vast expanse that stretches above us, is a canvas upon which the universe paints its daily and nightly masterpieces. It is a source of wonder and mystery, inspiring poets, philosophers, and seekers of truth throughout the ages. The sky is not just a physical entity; it is a metaphor for the mind’s limitless potential and a reflection of humanity’s quest for enlightenment.
By Sandy May2 years ago in BookClub
The essence of love . Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The Incomparable Love In the tapestry of human existence, the concept of love is perhaps the most profound and elusive. It is a force that transcends boundaries, cultures, and time. This love, which has been the subject of countless poems, songs, and stories, often feels like an ethereal presence—an invisible hand that guides, comforts, and sustains.
By Christine Ohuizu 2 years ago in BookClub
Unveiling the Wealth Paradigm: A Critical Review of "Capitalist Manifesto" by Robert Kiyosaki. AI-Generated.
When it comes to personal finance and wealth-building, few names resonate as strongly as Robert Kiyosaki, acclaimed author of the "Rich Dad Poor Dad" series. In his latest work, "Capitalist Manifesto," Kiyosaki offers a bold exploration of capitalism, wealth creation, and the future of finance. In this comprehensive review, we dissect the key themes and insights presented in "Capitalist Manifesto," probing its merits and implications for readers seeking financial empowerment.
By Future of Resilience 2 years ago in BookClub
Navigating the Maze of Anxiety: A Comprehensive Review of "The Anxious Generation" by Jonathan Haidt. AI-Generated.
In the age of digital connectivity and social upheaval, anxiety has become an omnipresent force, shaping the lives of individuals across generations. Jonathan Haidt's "The Anxious Generation" offers a profound exploration of this phenomenon, shedding light on the underlying causes and implications of rising anxiety levels among today's youth. In this review, we delve into the key themes and insights presented in Haidt's groundbreaking work, examining its relevance in understanding and addressing the challenges faced by the anxious generation.
By Future of Resilience 2 years ago in BookClub