birdswithoutlegs
Some crossings are not journeys - they are decisions you can never undo.
When unease begins to ripple through Pearl City, Mei Lin chooses what seems the most responsible path: moving her family to the Royal Kingdom, a place promised to offer stability, fairness, and opportunity. She tells herself it is only a bridge between two lives.
But the bridge she steps onto is made of paper.
Fragile. Silent. One way.
Behind her, ageing parents continue their days without her presence, their voices gradually becoming phone calls, then memories. Ahead, her children grow roots in unfamiliar soil, speaking of the future in a language of belonging she herself never fully acquires.
Work brings its own disillusionments - partnerships that cool, institutions that feel distant, expectations of certainty replaced by quiet ambiguity. The new home offers safety, yet never quite feels secure; the old home remains emotionally close, yet increasingly unreachable.
Years later, another truth surfaces:
she did not only leave her parents behind - one day, she may also find herself separated from her children, whose idea of "home" no longer includes the city she once called hers.
Migration, she learns, is not simply relocation.
It is a slow reshaping of identity, family, and time itself.
And still, somewhere beneath the uncertainty, she holds a fragile hope - that fairness, dignity, and the possibility of true belonging may yet exist, even if the path toward them is unclear.
Paper Bridge is a story about departure, generational distance, quiet resilience, and the invisible cost of choosing a future that can never fully replace the past.