Minari Site

“We’re not Korean anymore,” she sobbed. “And we’re not American. We’re nothing.”

The fire was still crackling behind them. Their house was a trailer on wheels. Their bank account was a zero. But in David’s small, grubby hand was a sprig of something that would come back every year. Minari

A patch of green. Feathery, vibrant, indestructible. “We’re not Korean anymore,” she sobbed