“Life had been returned to her—the one she squeezed every drop of, the one she did and redid in her stories when it was just the two of us in the living room of our first house.”
6:50 pm. Thursday night. July 31. The sun slowly emerges after a day of sultry rainfall. 60 or so people, all draped in formal and cocktail attire — tuxedos, white tie and tails, ball gowns — all matching a … Read More
She lived on the beach off the west coast of Oahu for almost seven years. After a rough childhood and broken home, Kanani made it her life’s purpose to treat the world as her family. And she uses her cultural values to guide the way.
(1) My roommate stirs. Her alarm rings at 9 AM, and she hastily turns it off to avoid waking me. My half-waking dreams are all the possible ways the email I sent last night could be answered. They range from … Read More
Not the way we do. As a refuge, as a moment of silence, as an interlude through mirrors, through cold. As a breathless moment with which to blot on two coats of lipstick and splash cold water on the cheekbones. … Read More
This review started as an obligation. It was the least I could do, really, to thank my friend and congratulate them on their poetic debut. Then, when I finally opened my personal copy of the book, sent to my home … Read More
“I thought about how I used to sleep on Gladewood Street with the passing trains at night. It reminded me of the boy who lived even closer to the tracks than I did, whose name I couldn’t remember.”
Dear reader, There is a pressing discomfort in the knowledge that no image is necessarily real. Generative AI first dissolved trust in mundane photos, then spread to images of personal and collective value. We reflect on this with some hesitation—the … Read More
Ⅰ. LIFE IS ART This piece was supposed to be called: Reading Kundera in Prague. That is because I started this summer with a plan: to read all of Kundera, in order, in Prague. In an homage to the … Read More
