Secret Origin
Even Jesus’ parents gave competing accounts of his birth. —You were, said his mother, —unexpectedly large. I said to your father, Where had so much child been hiding? I couldn’t believe this huge person had been waiting inside me. Yet his father, squatting, slick with the day’s sweat, his back against a cool interior wall, recalled a different truth. —Tiny…. Read more →
Inheritance
In his Will, Dad left me the righthand corner of our back porch, the crawlspace where I used to hide out as a child, the basement where he first caught me making out with a boyfriend. Our eldest brother with the weight issues had been left the pantry where the earthquake crackers were kept. The middle brother, who inherited Dad’s… Read more →
The Wedding Photo
Sunburned and jet lagged from my Mexican honeymoon, I head to my mom’s house, where she has summoned me to collect some wedding gifts and cards in her care. The photo gallery in her foyer stops me cold. She rearranged it to accommodate a new focal point, a large, framed photo of Chris and me on our wedding day. In… Read more →
When Cicadas Stopped Chirping
Father sprinkled White Rabbit candies in Min’s coffin. Mother screamed, “Let me go with my son!” If Mr. and Mrs. Chen, who lived across the stream, hadn’t held Mother back, she would have plunged into the wooden coffin Father built. He gave Mother a loud slap and shouted, “Stop it!” His eyes were red, but never shed a tear. Shan’s… Read more →
A Dog Story Doggedly Told
A speed mechanic. More sudden than a cinder off a runner’s spike. A trailer slightly behind a 50-grain bullet at 3,900 fps. Oh, my, he was fast. He could run side-by-side with the Harley FXDR for the first 60 yards until Enos slipped the clutch and ripped a wheely down the straightaway at the Delaware County fairground. Motorcycle fans came… Read more →
The Broken Clock
The clock is as big as she is. If she stands facing the kitchen window with her arms by her side and bends forward into a ninety-degree angle, she equals the clock’s quarter-past-six. The clock hands are wrong, but she records their time in her bones and muscles. A grounding exercise. It’s not that the clock lags by an hour… Read more →
Beachcombers
After months of not being able to be in the same room together, due to mutual fury and recrimination, my sister-in-law and I met for a walk on the beach. Separate cars. She was on time, I arrived late, a reversal of our usual pattern that possibly boded well. How to start? Should we look for shells? The sand dollars… Read more →
The Apple is Blameless
I get on a ladder and pick the crabapples from my tree, put them in my bucket. There are way more than I’ll know what to do with, but I figure I’ll find recipes, maybe do some canning. I’m not really into jam, but I imagine being creative, filling pretty jars with fancy covers and giving them as gifts for… Read more →
Porous
We spilled some of her ashes on our way through the woods. The weight of the urn tore a hole in the backpack, and the urn hit the ground hard, knocking the lid loose. She had been gone a while, but it came to us that our favorite spot, a quiet bank by the river, was a good resting place…. Read more →