A seed is an escape pod. A plant egg detaches from its mother from the start, Jody says as she presses two speckled brown beans into each of our palms. Jody used to just be our babysitter, but now she’s Dad’s girlfriend. “But don’t go asking your dad about it yet,”...
flash fiction
Nanay Is Mother
Behind the books on her shelves she finds the artifacts of their girlhood, all of them fuzzed with dust: pocket-sized dolls with safety-scissor haircuts, crayon stubs, origami frogs, magnetic letters. She frowns when she finds the Tagalog flashcards, a reminder of all...
Nurturing
Protection Erik is raising three chicks in his backyard. Erik is always telling us how he’ll have fresh eggs once they’re grown, bright orange yolks from the paprika-mixed grains he’s feeding them, tough shells that require a good thwack to crack. We’re all jealous so...
And Even Still the Rivers
1 Remember when the river ran just beyond our door, when rains replenished this ribbon unfurled blue and raspberries ripened close so we could smell them through our bedroom window. Remember when the robins flew in with their red breasts and you sucked the red of this...
Receivers
Thursday nights, half the country gathered in their living rooms to watch Chad Dylan Scott shake blonde hair out of his eyes, curse his football teammates, and strip down to his Hail Mary boxers. His abs were like the ridges in an ice tray, rigid, but a jostle and a...
The Big Dipper
The pool was four feet deep, and we bought it at Target half off. You could float on your back and think, “fun times are here,” because at least you weren't burning hot. Mom and I watched it fill up with hose water. She looked around at the back yard, the neglected...
User Profile for the Recently Bereaved
I'm looking for the way it feels to stand behind doors sliding shut on a train to Ikebukuro and you bow goodbye to me from the platform and I bow to you. I am on my way to that monster cafe we loved, where the slippers they gave us were fuzzy and green with small...
Lost Centuries
Yonder Years Ago So down a synapse they tunneled, carried past sensation burdens: memory waves chute-oscillated, irrigated crevices and canals to harvest minds and remember electric journeys in flashes and sparks. Disconnected and torn, hand-in-hand they went,...
Grown-Ups Also Lie: Three Micros
Punch Me he tells his son. It’s okay. You need to learn. Tenderly, the father kneels, and the boy makes a four-year-old fist, aims for the broad chest, tensed and squared and fleshier than the father remembers himself. Little knuckles against aging skin. A slapping...
And This One is Full of Rain
The birds only come once a year. Always on my birthday, just as I’m blowing my age into candle smoke and choking down a sliver of over-sweetened cake because my mom came home early from work to bake it and she gets mad when I don’t eat. But the birds are back, which...
Lisa Won’t Quit Scuba
You and Lisa tried to save your marriage by taking some community education classes. Intro to Pottery started in March, Beginning Scuba was slated for May. “Maybe learning new things will rekindle our love,” you told her. “Maybe learning new things will prove our...
Into the Sink
She slipped her thumb into her mouth, sucked in a heavy swallow of air, shrunk her waist to the size of a noodle, and disappeared down the kitchen sink drain. Slithering down the pipe, she shrugged the darkness on like a winter coat. There was a piece of dark meat...












