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Feature | Personal Commentary

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Passing through a tunnel

I walk on, my eyes and fingers tracing the walls, which feel warm compared to the frozen sky, my mind wandering and wondering what I will see next, but certainly not anticipating this image that reminds me of mangled flesh—a jagged, convulsing mural of New York Times pages. 

Wuhan is home and its doctors are family

Underneath the hazmat suits displayed apocalyptically all over the media are my aunties and uncles. Behind the suffering looming over Wuhan, China are generations of my family’s spirited stories.

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