The Lion
The first night my father was gone wasn’t the worst of it but it was bad: the three of us in the big bed, wide awake until dawn. I still remember each long hour. February, and the restless dreamless night stretched on forever, my mother rubbing her freezing feet on us, my brother crawling deep [&h
The Snail, Or Nancy
When I write her into a story, the first thing I do is make her older. She’s in her thirties, age starting to show on her face, but still dressing young. In real life, I have left California, and soon she will too. We know things will never be like this again, but one day, […]
O’ahu: regular priced milk and the view over Pearl Harbour
When we arrived in O’ahu we headed for Waikīkī first. From the airport we walked to the Alamo car rental, where my father talked to the desk as my mother sat in the plastic chairs between me and my brother, sobbing as quietly as she could. “We’re safe,” she kept muttering to herself. I
