The face of a wristwatch stares at me from its case, frozen at 8:15 a.m. Tattered backpacks, left behind by children on their way to school, wait for their owners to claim them from this post-apocalyptic lost-and-found. A tricycle, now rusted, joints stricken with gout, spent 40 years underground before it was resurrected for exhibition. It belonged to a boy named Shin, and grief gnaws … Continue reading Origami of the Heart