“Agatha refused to fuck a magistrate, so he imprisoned her in a brothel.”

“We all had something to pray for.”

“December, 2017; I tell a boy with low self-esteem that I love him ‘unconditionally’ and now I have to prove it.”

“Most bookworms have lived the image: bedtime, the encompassing covers, a flashlight sparking a world.”

“In these video games, there were victories and meaningless losses. I had something I didn’t have to be good at.”

“I can’t separate my experience of being raised by gay people from my experience of being raised by people who watched a lot of their friends die young.”

“Our plan had been to wait until the next time we visited to tell them we would be moving in together, but I also had my own discreet plan.”

Wait a year, or two, or ten. Or maybe you’ll wait two decades — squeezing through the cracks in eVerify and RealID until the bureaucratic walls grow too high and you must go under.

On October 10th, 2023, I rediscover a keffiyeh — a traditional Palestinian scarf — while unpacking boxes in my new apartment in Seattle.

It’s Monday morning, April 2020, and I am trying to see if my dad has had a stroke from 800 miles away.

In the photos taken before I wore it, the gown hangs from a grape arbor.

1. Start with a name / By the end of this pamphlet, you will be able to practice the art of waiting in three simple steps.

The American dentist who shot Cecil the Lion once said, If I had known this animal had a name … I obviously wouldn’t have killed it.

“It’s the year of getting better,” her mother said as she walked into the room. It was Thora’s second hospital stay of the year.

My mother and grandmother were born in ‘the land of the lake,’ or La Comarca de la Laguna, a cradle of fertile land between the Sierra Madre mountain ranges in the northern Mexican desert