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  • Fiction | Thoughts After Alaska
    During the winter months of November and December people living above the Arctic Circle's southern boundary are deprived of sunlight entirely. Each year the citizens of northern Alaska wait for a day in mid-November when the sun must inevitably sink to bed; it will retreat back beyond the horizon line as in the closing to a dramatic film.

  • Fiction | China
    So, 22 Haitians and a Jew fly into Beijing. The Jew is me. The 22 Haitians are not. The two of them I know are Ti Robert and Marie Lynne. I know them because they are my best friend Cecille's parents. Cici's name is on all my hotel reservations for the trip. Our tour guide, Buddy Sun, when he takes attendance at the airport, says "Cici", and I have to raise my hand and say, "Here." He suspects nothing.

  • Poetry | Buddha Bar