
I had vowed to be different, but I wasn’t able to escape servitude, even eight thousand miles away in New York.
I had vowed to be different, but I wasn’t able to escape servitude, even eight thousand miles away in New York.
I wonder how the body knows it’s ready to feed another life. Does it even get a choice to be ready?
We heard a glass break, then saw our mother, saw what looked like tears.
Astrological insights from twelve of our most recent flash stories
Looking is not enough. You must run this beauty between finger and thumb.
Wei forgot that he’d given up these aspirations, but he knew they were still possible for her.
She remembers the rituals she had imbued with her own significance: how her ex used to bring her a single flower after every exam, and how she’d watch it wilt on her desk as she studied for the next.
What kind of exhibit on revolutionaries would it be without a living Palestinian? The rub of course is there are so few of you.
What if the world was stuck, frozen, and we could go anywhere we wanted, together?
We—our family—had so little to give each other; maybe we needed to look elsewhere.
For it is what Grandma made best, and it is what we knew and ate.
You know what I am trying to do for you, Night, she says. I am trying to make life easier.
As I inhaled the sharpness I thought about how much I loved her, and I thought about all the things I would do to prove it.
I should have studied their faces as they said goodbye, the way they smelled, the lines on their hands.
I turned around to check whether the llama was still there. There he was, as fluffy and clueless as before, lashes waving as he sat on a tattered red mat thrown on the aisle.
I had vowed to be different, but I wasn’t able to escape servitude, even eight thousand miles away in New York.
What if the world was stuck, frozen, and we could go anywhere we wanted, together?
I wonder how the body knows it’s ready to feed another life. Does it even get a choice to be ready?
We—our family—had so little to give each other; maybe we needed to look elsewhere.
We heard a glass break, then saw our mother, saw what looked like tears.
Astrological insights from twelve of our most recent flash stories
For it is what Grandma made best, and it is what we knew and ate.
You know what I am trying to do for you, Night, she says. I am trying to make life easier.
Looking is not enough. You must run this beauty between finger and thumb.
As I inhaled the sharpness I thought about how much I loved her, and I thought about all the things I would do to prove it.
Wei forgot that he’d given up these aspirations, but he knew they were still possible for her.
She remembers the rituals she had imbued with her own significance: how her ex used to bring her a single flower after every exam, and how she’d watch it wilt on her desk as she studied for the next.
I should have studied their faces as they said goodbye, the way they smelled, the lines on their hands.
What kind of exhibit on revolutionaries would it be without a living Palestinian? The rub of course is there are so few of you.
I turned around to check whether the llama was still there. There he was, as fluffy and clueless as before, lashes waving as he sat on a tattered red mat thrown on the aisle.