Short Story

Marisa, the Pitch Pine

Didn’t they get it? She was a pitch pine. She would win in the end.

Jan 18, 2019
Interplanetary Risk Management and Other Reasons to Quit Cheerleading

Her species procreates through a sacred sermonic skin grafting ritual, but the idea of sex with a teenage human male she found truly grotesque.

Jan 11, 2019
The Most Memorable Annual Pig Parade of Kharagpur

“Devilish,” said all of Kharagpur, after the Rosarios and their pig walked in the annual parade. “No pig’s supposed to jump backwards. Or laugh.”

Jan 04, 2019
What Does it Mean to Kill Something That Can Fly?

You wanted us to have a baby. I wanted your baby, and also for all the moths in the house to die.

Dec 21, 2018
The History of Us

The Big was proof that there was a God, and proof that God did not exist.

Dec 14, 2018
How to Love a Rabbit

There were a number of things that shaped who Simra was. The most important was that she knew how to love a rabbit.

Dec 07, 2018
Gordo and Mayra’s First Night in America

Alfonzo looked aghast, like they were the two most naïve immigrants in the history of New York. “ICE is preparing to break through that door with guns and night vision goggles, maybe even dogs, and you’re worried about the breeze?”

Nov 30, 2018
Sleepy Things

Tony had only gone on, like, seven dates with Josefín and the jodona was already lounging on Magdalena’s couch.

Nov 16, 2018
North to the Future

If you’re having a good time it usually means you’re having a bad time, I think. So the opposite has got to be true also.

Nov 09, 2018
The Evacuation

Look at the ocean, they say. Every road will flood. You will be trapped. Your house will be destroyed. Look at it swell. I’m staying, I say.

Oct 26, 2018
Scorching, Smokeless Fire

Everything started when we were thirteen—young and learning to love the womanhood that our mothers forced upon us.

Oct 19, 2018
The Richmond

Mama and Baba refused to leave our foggy little Chinese hamlet. Although they had traveled across the world, now they would no longer travel east of Arguello Boulevard.

Oct 12, 2018
The Bereavers at the Crying Competition

The MC introduced each contestant, and at the end, said that that year’s grief counselors in black would like to be called the Bereavers. He mispronounced it as the Beliebers, and the audience laughed, because they are American, and have no idea what Bereaver could mean.

Oct 06, 2018
The Other Mother

Patti never mentioned her own daughter. I realized she was a little broken too, like the rest of us. She had a tender point she hid from us, from me: the enemies.

Sep 28, 2018
The Dead and Other Unchosen Things

We only used this table for special occasions, for Christmas and New Year’s and birthdays. And for the dead.

Sep 14, 2018
Mae and Me

The two years after Daniel’s disappearance felt like a decade. My colleagues and students couldn’t decide whether to treat me like a widow or divorcée. Mae treated me like neither.

Dusty Secrets and Sleights of Hand

She whispered his words, trying to rekindle the magical spell Hubert had placed over her mother that day. Ruth hated him for doing what she couldn’t. He left.

Aug 31, 2018
Breaking and Entering for Would-Be Marine Biologists

“Yes, there are still whales, there are still haddock, crabs, seals. Their hearts beat, muscle and sinew unaltered by steel scale or steam-powered fins. For now, anyway.”

Aug 24, 2018
A Flea for a Dog

A turkey, a gown, a motorcycle, for bartered Chinatown dreams.

Aug 17, 2018
Bartending on a Captainless Ship

Captains are always making you think you’re secure and happy and then bam, you’re capsizing with an iceberg in your rearview mirror.

Aug 10, 2018