As I sat performing my chemistry lab titration, hair plastered with sweat and hands shaking, I enviously eyed the other...
Creative Work
The men in my ears clacked about The Iliad as I walked. I used to pause my podcasts and take...
We rode bikes up to the reservoir in the afternoon. Dad crouched at the water molding pink clumps of PowerBait...
In the fog before churchthe cafes are closed,the good grocers alsosave one in which I knowno Spanish and am sorry....
In “Mas’s Shoulder,” I asked my family members to cut out the silhouette of Mas Okamoto, my great-grandfather. In the...
Spring with its promise of holidayswas come on the open farmbehind the house behind your father’s house. You knew this:...
Having for so long watched othersset to work before me,I enter now the suit of heavy cottonand slip my hands...
A writer confronts her great-grandparents' testimony of Holocaust survival in a Yale archive.
one year i rose & there was snow smothering the leaves i watched a flake drift over the flowers bloomed...