The birds and the bees come and go. They graze on my leaves. They flutter against my stalk, buzzing or chirping their contentment. They always pause at my flowe...
My father came after my bedtime, but I could hear my mother talking to him. She said she would not let him in, and while he stood at the foot of the porch she c...
“It’s all history with you,” she said. It was an accusation.
“I just wondered if you remembered trying it,” he said.
They were driving west on Green away ...
The surgeon has hands like a polished sword. That’s what her husband says, like a polished sword.
He buys her roses for their anniversary; he opens a bottle ...
My kid said the thing in the sky was a divorce. The drunk at the bus-stop revealed it was the Russian hackers. It was thin and, for November, unreasonably shi...
Baby 1 gurgles, splashing her feet as her mum dangles her in the kiddie pool. On the other side of the fence, Baby 2 crosses his arms, trapped in a jump-up ch...
My father’s funeral: my aunt says a few words, my mother cries upstairs, and I sit in the boarding area of gate 23B, Guam International Airport, watching the si...
My mother is beautiful even when she bangs her head against the wall. When she does, her black, shiny hair swings back and forth and I can see, in profile, the ...
“Divebombing” is This Thing I Do With Camera One-Twelve on Forney Towers Where I Focus on the Wide Horizon of Trees and Electric Windmills and Then Begin a Slow...
Coming through some crack into her mind there strayed the American phrase every which way, as if a piece of American film had flaked off and found her, but that...
