Last week, I was in Shanghai, sitting beside an open window. I had nothing urgent to do. No assignments. No volunteering. No part-time shift. No gym. My phone had somehow ended up on the other side of the room. The closest things to me were half an iced watermelon. Cicadas buzzed outside as if the afternoon had nowhere else to be. It had been raining all afternoon. The rain stopped. Then started again. Then stopped again. Normally, I hate weather that can't make up its mind.

It’s 33 Degrees Today. Are You Wearing Enough Clothes? ONE MOON COLUMN | ISSUE EIGHT | SCREENS Written by Priscilla Zhang (she/her) | @p.zhangxy | Columnist Every morning, before I even look outside my window, I look at another season. It appears on my phone. My mother has a habit of telling me the temperature back home. I think it is her way of sharing something real, something happening around her body, across the 6,000 miles between us. "Yesterday was so hot and stuffy,"

"Have you Eaten Yet?" COLUMN | ISSUE SEVEN | MATARIKI Written by y Priscilla Zhang (she/her) | @p.zhangxy | Columnist Illustrations by Sophia He (she/her) | @meoskyan.art | Graphic Designer Every time my mother calls from China, she asks the same question within the first two minutes: “Have you eaten yet?” For many Chinese people, this question carries a weight that has very little to do with hunger. Conversations happen around dining tables. Friendships begin over shared m