Fiction

“My mother lifted me up to kiss my grandfather in his casket. I had never kissed my grandfather while he was alive…”

“My daughter’s line will be struck out, as that on so many others’ cards have been. Hasty burials at sea.”

“He kept digging. The sound of the shovel reverberating off the rocks as if inside a sepulcher.”

One evening, slumped over his supper of boiled carrots and potatoes, Walter told her that there had been a meeting.

The hurricane hit like an old boxer—sapped of its former power, but still dangerous.

I’ve been receiving gender-affirming therapies and waiting for the right time to come out to my son…

You awake into the world where she’s gone, her life taken by a drunk driver while biking home in the cool night air…

Sanjay and I continued our daily chess games under the watchful eye of our parents, with long pauses and smiles…

What is my voice when it has nothing to imitate? Whose beauty is this but not the beautiful ones it mimics?