The line is from a poem titled Poems by Nikki Grimes.
This is a memory worth keeping:
- The tug-of wars using blankets Mum and I used to play when I was a child
- The craft book she bought me and one of the arts was titled “Piggy Mum making rice cakes” and how I jokingly said it made me think of her because in Cantonese her first name sounds like Pig.
- The karaoke I used to sing with my best friend, me to read out the lyrics right besides her in case she didn’t know how to pronounce some words. She’s got a fear of not pronouncing things properly. Once she shoved the mic right at me for a radio show we were making for History oral about Gandhi and there was this Indian name she could not pronounce.
- How she used to say the sky is grey and I would have answered back the sky is blue. Once she said that and I made my reflexive reply and she said “No, look, it’s raining.” That was funny.
- Not an actual memory but when I realised that I wanted to be a writer and could actually be one. A writer is just someone who writes. Knowing that was liberating. Perhaps the most liberating thing I had ever known.
- My first ever memory. I was up on a rooftop or somewhere. I had steamed egg stew- not steamed eggs, eggs crashed into a bowl and you use chopsticks to whip it so that the yolks and the white will mix together. And then you steam the well-mixed egg liquid until it solidifies.
Moonlake's Fiction Space 