You are sitting on the large bed at the far right corner of the room watching him fold his carton-coloured pants and signature long-sleeved, striped shirts into...
1.
The first time my father disappears, I believe he’s gone forever. He slips behind a veil of his own fingers, and everything I know about him—his twinkling...
Gorgeous morning in the awakened city, fresh new green, the angled rays of the sun glittering in spider webs, birds twittering, the fragrance of buds, grass dre...
Abracadabra
It was once a word with power, before hokey top hats and scarves stuffed up sleeves: write it on papyrus eleven times, dropping the final letter ...
I sat on my mother’s couch, posthumously chosen during a sisterly round robin. Sun salved me and honeyed the couch so like her: sturdy on its legs, densely pil...
Deda Vitya, my father’s father, is in the hospital now, and we are with him. My father’s standing over his father’s bed. At the end of a blood test. White str...
I see: everything. Yefim’s fist, French fries jutting between tattooed fingers. He scans the line, yellow-green eyes sharpening, tickets under plates. One thing...
One
Put away your story. Carefully. Snugly. Don’t tell your family; don’t tell the world. Someday, tell a therapist. Someday, tell your writer’s group. But not ...
This morning I could not get my
two-year-old daughter dressed. She lay on the floor, having made herself so
completely limp that I could barely pick her up...
Ashley fell in love like it was nothing. She liked boys with crooked smiles and long, greasy hair. But she wasn’t picky; often, a quick look was all it took to ...
