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F I C T I O N
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  • Past Imperfect
    My voice trails off. I feel uneasy knowing that he never had this, the opportunity to travel, to experience the largeness, the difference, the confirmations and contradictions that come with living elsewhere. I think of the extra piano lessons he taught, all the hours he and Mom worked to send me over here the first time at the age of twenty-one. When I kissed them goodbye at the airport, I was afraid I'd waste what they had given me, convinced that somehow I'd squander this opportunity that had been presented by selfless parents.


  • Still Life With Nude
    Blossoms pirouetted on the surface and were carried away with the current, or became trapped on thin reed stalks. Here Hyeon-mi could be alone, but not always alone. They too had sat like this once, watching the water. The creek was swollen with rain that day, it flowed noisily. His whispered breath had felt warm against her ear.


  • Tree Goats
    On the bus from Tetuan to Chechauen, a small village at the base of the Rif Mountains, you can look out your window and see Tree Goats.


  • Throw Me Somethin' Mister: Fictions and Fragments from Mardi Gras
    Rumor has it that the story of Mardi Gras begins with the words, 'In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.' Now, two hundred years after the Louisiana Purchase and forty-seven days before Easter, something happens in New Orleans, Louisiana. The world there turns upside down. The work of anonymous seamstresses is on display in the street. Beaded Medici collars and feathered headdress encrusted with shell are strutted with pride along with exposed body parts and fantastic robes of moss.


  • The Song of the Dragonflies
    Dragonflies on stained-glass wings skim over a lake. Their reflections flash like finely cut jewels on the surface of the water. Ancient creatures, unchanged for countless millennia, the sound of their flight vibrates in the air as a song.


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