All in the golden afternoon full leisurely we glide;[i]

I, off to explore the world, and leave my family behind.

What adventures lay ahead for me, I know not

But shakily leave the home which for eighteen years I’ve sought.

Without the usual comforts, who am I?

 

 

Down the Sunny Hole[ii]

It is an early Saturday afternoon in August.  Today, I leave for the University.  Like a traveler chained to my belongings, I reluctantly tuck my suitcase and bags into the trunk of the Camry, then clamber in on the passenger side.  With the revving of the car engine, I depart home with not so much as whisper of good-bye. 

We head south.  As I look to the sky, I anticipate the yellow sun soon to reveal itself.  However, when the sun appears, I catch a glimpse of its white edge against the grey flurry of clouds—it occurs to me that I ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural.[iii]  Fascinated by this sight, I jump in my seat, for it flashes across my mind that I had never before seen a sun so white.[iv]  And burning with curiosity, I race along the highway just in time to see the white sun pop behind the clouds.[v]  To my delight, the white sun re-emerges and the cycle resumes.  Soon the playful, yet hypnotic, hide-and-seek manner of the ever-elusive sun lulls me into deep slumber.  I begin to dream elaborately . . . .  I dream of conversing with the Energizer bunny, of playing with a deck of cards, of dropping my boiled egg on the ground, and of pretending to be Queen one Halloween[vi]. . . .

 

 

The fall of Freshman Year

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Interpretation by Ada Tsai