Praise Exercise
Feb 28th: Good job! In peace, an old woman whispers sweet nothings to help a flower bloom: yes my love, grow, grow, grow, slow and steady, you’re doing such a good job, I love—the train halts to a stop. We step out into dim, streetlamp sun. Mar 3rd: Good …
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Needle Exchange
The harsh overhead tube lights flickered, fading almost to darkness then sparkling back to life, as a bone-tired Vivek entered the inpatient ward. On paper, Vivek was merely a trainee physician in his first year of residency. What this meant in the real world, however, was that he was …
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Inheritance
Nadia knocks on the door for the second time and waits. She can hear shuffling footsteps, the rustling of papers, the blowing of a nose. The clients like to tidy up before Nadia arrives, make a good impression—despite this loss, I’m still holding it together!—even though she couldn’t care less …
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Trio
I. Playland was Poland with the o pulled out and play put in, echoing the home country but safer and more fun. Each Sunday, we begged our parents to take us there, where the two families converged like pilgrims on the western edge of Golden Gate Park, standing at the …
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What You Eat
The embarrassing thing about dying is, people talk. We list heart attack, stroke, cancer as causes of death, but we know the behaviors that lead to these things. If you’ve lived long enough, people have seen you engage in many—a cigarette after dinner, some reckless driving. In death, it all …
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Tender Head
I felt safe going back to his apartment after our first date because I’d met him at the library. In front of the Hot Summer Reads! display, he’d been beanstalk-tall in an R.E.M. t-shirt. Jeans cuffed around his ankles and a Kundera novel in an oversized hand. Later, at the …
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Anesthesia
The homeowner was drinking cocktails by the pool. He mixed them up on a small metal cart stocked with glassware, ice, and liquor. He’d had a few already. The pool boy knew from the work order that the man’s name was O’Hara. “The trick to a good Old Fashioned,” …
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Anybody?
Have you ever stood on the front porch of your mother’s house, talking to your uncle, a big ol’ redneck with a big ol’ mustache, the kind of man who gets upset about police brutality and who doesn’t understand why those guys use their guns, because when he worked in …
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Lake Bird Flying
The first time I found you snacking in the closet on durian chips and mooncakes three years expired, you told me that we all have our secrets. You dropped a handful of red and gold candy in my hands—barely big enough to hold it all—that you had stolen from some …
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A Small Part
The star is beautiful. No, beautiful is too simple. She is ethereal. She is moonlight, and her rugged co-star is a snow-capped mountain. No—she’s an orchid, and he’s a bend in a lazy river. You are an extra seated across the plane’s aisle. If the leads are moonlight and mountains …
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