Prose
Prose
Please Don’t Make Me Repeat Myself
“You have such a beautiful voice,” the director said guardedly.
Simmer
When they come to see the stove, they inhale a simultaneous woosh, the kind of sound that only comes from air moving into the lungs through a constricted trachea, just a hint of a vibration in the back of the throat.
Repentance
One Friday each fall, Missionary Baptist girls from all over the state of Mississippi were excused from school to journey in their church vans to the cabins of Camp Garaywa for the annual Girls Missionary Auxiliary overnight retreat
Jagged Space
My sense of what it means to be an American woman, a queer Aries snowflake, shifts every time I leave and return to my own country.
Genuine Ringers
Julia was a single mom, so she did what she had to do.
The Door That Closes Itself
how is it / that you force-fuck / and call us whores / you tell us we only care / about your size, your wallet / when we’ve bought you flowers / yet there’s only dirt in your palms
Every Three Minutes
I am my father’s pusher. Just this once, tonight. Mash the button.
Lucia
My mom acted like she was just one good fuck away from becoming a millionaire.
Carry-On
Six hours and counting. Six hours until she touched down in another world, another life.
The Invitation
Mr. Dai called to inform his wife that he would be leaving directly from work to pick their daughter up from the airport this evening, so Mrs. Dai would have to buy the fish herself.
