The Knock at the Door
Maybe it was not such an obstacle after all, if it was going to save our lives one day. This is how my brain came to be rewired.
Essays
170 posts
Parallel Practice: Story at the End of My Fist
I will throw a lot of punches. Thousands. Hurl my fist. Aim for the target. Do it over and over. Fail.
“A Path to Happiness”: Commemorating Sex in Patrick Nathan’s The Future Was Color
Happiness, however temporary and intermittent, is emphasized as vitally important in the cited paragraph and throughout the novel, a rarity in a world steeped in destruction.
Who Comes to the Ancestor Picnic?
With my flimsy paper plate overloaded, I take a seat with my parents and three generations of distant cousins. And here, the picnic’s real flavor emerges.
Going Home: An Excerpt From The Translator’s Daughter
On Tuesday, October 4, 2005, my mom was reported missing from her home.
Parallel Practice: Aftermath
This is often all I need from it. To make sense of some immediate piece. To ease the ache of existence.
Dream Futures
Again and again, I return to this: being in community is the antidote to feeling dread, despair, and powerlessness.
The Comfort Room
What is a caregiver before the diapers need changing and the wheelchair needs pushing?
