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A LITTLE MORE JOY IN EVERY DAY

THÚ VỊ MỖI NGÀY

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Collection Of Story

Stories and perspectives picked for your day.

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Collection Of Story

Collection Of Story

The Girl Who Gathered Light at the End of the Slope

The Village Behind Three Hills Once upon a time, behind three hills that followed one after another, there was a small village called An Nhien. The villagers made their living by growing rice, weaving baskets, and making terracotta lamps. The village was not wealthy, but it had long been known to many people because the

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The Lighthouse Keeper and the Road That Was Not on the Map

The Lamp at the Edge of the Forest At the end of a narrow valley, a dirt road ran along the mountainside. It did not lead to a large city, nor did it connect to any busy markets. It merely passed a few houses with old tiled roofs, a low stone bridge, and a forest

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The Man Who Mended Forgotten Umbrellas

The Umbrella Repair Shop at the End of the Street At the end of the street stood a small shop tucked beneath a faded awning. The wooden sign out front bore only two words: “Umbrella Repair,” written so simply that passersby often did not bother to look twice. The shop had no gleaming glass display

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The Empty Chair in the Evening Rice Shop

At the end of the road leading to the old bus station stood a small rice shop called Bep Chieu. The shop had no large sign, only a faded wooden board and a few four-o’clock flowers in pots along the porch. People in the neighborhood often stopped by for a bowl of hot soup, a

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The Empty Seat Beneath the Station Eaves

The district railway station stood at the end of a dusty road, where trains stopped for only a few minutes before continuing toward the sea or heading back up into the hills. The building was low, its tiled roof faded with age. In the dry season, the sunlight cast a harsh glare across the courtyard,

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The Postman on the Nameless Slope

At the edge of the town, a winding slope led up to a low hill. The slope had no sign, did not appear on tourist maps, and no one remembered when it had begun. The townspeople simply called it Sau Cho Slope, because to get there one had to pass through the old market, turn

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The Lamp That Never Goes Out at the End of the Slope

The Light Beside the Slope At the far end of Mây Cói Village was a long, winding slope running between myrtle bushes and rows of old bamboo. During the day, there was nothing particularly remarkable about it except for a few uneven slabs of stone, a bank of earth that often became slippery after rain,

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The Ferry Landing Behind the Bamboo Grove and the Keeper of Promises

At the edge of Van Bai Village was a river that was not very wide, but during the rainy season it often rose, turning murky and carrying along branches, straw, and even planks from the houses along the bank. On the other side of the river was a large field, where the village children often

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The Wooden Box That Held the Rainy Season

At the end of the dirt road leading into Moc Van Village stood a low-tiled-roof house, with two old star-fruit trees planted in front. The house was not large, nor did it contain anything valuable except a wooden box placed on a high shelf in the kitchen. The box had darkened over the years, its

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The Watch Repairman and the Day Without Chimes

At the end of a small street stood a narrow shop, its faded wooden sign bearing the words: “Watch repairs – battery replacement – cleaning and servicing.” People in the neighborhood knew it as Mr. Lam’s shop. Its door usually opened early in the morning, when the trees were still covered in dew, and closed

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The Clock That Stopped at the Last Station

At the edge of the town stood a small train station that had almost been forgotten. Moss covered its tiled roof, the wooden bench outside had faded under the sun and rain, and the timetable hung crooked on a wall full of cracks. Trains still passed by from time to time, but they rarely stopped.

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The Dry Well and the Keeper of the Rainy Season

At the edge of Moc Village stood a stone well beneath an old banyan tree. The mouth of the well was built from smooth, weathered gray slabs, and a thin layer of moss covered its rim. The villagers called it Ngan Well, though no one remembered when that name had first appeared. Some said that

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