Emilia Onuonga: She Still Stands
/My 10 year old cousin tells me that he
does not want to be Kenyan,
only American
and I cannot pretend to be shocked
Read MoreAlex Liang: Irreplaceable
/When my brother returned from the dead, his footsteps echoed fatefully in the house. He arrived in an oversized white hoodie and slightly scuffed black jeans even though it was at least 80 degrees outside. According to the doctors, he had to be covered in clothes or else “risk sunburn or even skin cancer on his vulnerable skin.”
My mother guided him to a clear plastic chair, behind which hung a black-and-white photo of the first Andrew. After telling him to sit down, she pried off his shoes. Around us, the living room was bare, minus one long sofa, the plastic chair, and the massive black pig statue standing in the corner, which everyone passed when they entered our house.
Read MoreRachel Krumholtz: Seagulls
/The seagulls circle the city, swooping over its glistening turrets and boxy edifices. Their wings glitter ominously, coated in a thick, viscous layer of oil. Rising above the murky fumes produced from the steeples below, they instinctively gaze at the water, subconsciously yearning for clear blue waves, for fish. But the fish were long gone; they had disappeared nearly twenty-five years ago. Submerged beneath years’ worth of tattered clothing, discarded boxes, and unused plastic dumped unceremoniously into the once-transparent waters, the sparkle of their scales began to dim, and one by one their lifeless bodies floated to the surface of the water, limp and vulnerable. The seagulls continued spiraling, their bright and inquisitive eyes looking, searching for a place to land.
Read MorePhillip Chao: The Blue Bridge in Benford
/was driving to the Blue Bridge in Benford in my 1969 Ford Capri.
Sunlight in the heartland of the country has always been ample, shedding through the distorted leaves on the olive trees and blinding my sight. A sudden stream of warmth was injected into my body, and I shivered.
I stopped at the side of the road and pulled out a map marked all over by numerous dots of red and lines of blue.
All roads here led to Benford. All rivers ran to the Blue Bridge.
Read MoreKristen Li: My Nights with the Worm
/I first read about the tapeworm diet online. Just like every other diet plan, it featured transformative before-and-after pictures. I skimmed through the menu, learned that the diet was illegal, not FDA approved, and could have devastating side effects. I glossed over the statistics and the numbers, and my eyes landed on the guarantee: you will put off pounds, you will lose weight. That was all I wanted, all it took.
Read MoreReghan Funderburk: Confession
/Confession
“I wonder what love is,” I replied.
Upon his approach and my listening to him, I found it easy to assume that the boy was of the variety I had met before. My first impression of him was likely lost in a sea of lectures and studying. My second first impression was likely forgotten in a crowd of faces. My third first impression could have been forgotten due to my fatigue that day. I likely had many of these “first impressions,” followed by my forgetting his existence. For all intents and purposes, he was a stranger. Yet upon our first exchange, for some reason, the words “I love you” came from his mouth. Words I had never said so easily.
Read MoreKylan Tatum: Hopeless Light
/Candles
Wax descends slowly
Like tears from
A weeping flame.
Boring its path
With golden light.
Sparks
Sparks don’t die,
Not in the slightest
Fleeting memories
Burn the brightest
The Golden Sun
What happened to the golden sun?
Its mist-shrouded glow
Masking its violent tendrils
Beating the earth,
Casting shadows
On all that moves.
Alex Liang: The Shadow & Mahjong Table
/Mahjong Table
When I arrived at your 34th-floor apartment for dinner, as I usually do on Fridays, I felt as if the last step of the stair had vanished and I was about to fall face-first onto the floor. Being a counselor, I often became dizzy and nauseated after a long day of listening to spouses arguing; attempting to reconcile broken relationships was a nightmare.
The Shadow
From my grandfather’s pale yellow house, I trudge to the little local market down a road that winds through terraced fields that look like overlapping green-onion pancakes. The smell of cooking smoke rises from the hay rooftops of my new neighbors. I pass the local dust-colored three-story school, where I see my would-be peers in classrooms remaining quiet, furiously taking notes. Standing outside windows crusted on the edges with falling plaster and watching failing students who couldn’t leave before they finished or before they gave up on their tests, I wanted to laugh. I hadn’t come here to take more tests; I had come for cheap candies and cheaper entertainment. No more Saturday classes or online tutors. No more final exams or midterm grade reports. I had left all of that behind.
Read MoreA Map of the World
/Lights flicker.
It’s time to wake up.
My eyes open. I reach for the button next to my bed. The voice silences. My bed begins to adjust to a seating position.
I look around. The same sight I see every morning greets me. White, unfurnished walls. Soft light filtering through the blinds in the windows. The door in front of me opens, beckoning me outside the safe haven of my room.
Read MoreThe Son of Fire
/A murmur ran through the huddled mass, leather soles slid and skidded on the dirt floor.
“Quiet now, quiet,” The priest urged. “Don’t disturb his rest.”
It was barely visible to the onlookers in the doorway, but the slight glow and faint hiss emanating from the sleeping infant’s chest spoke what was yet unspoken. The worst had come, the boy was marked.
His father buried his face into his hands, the tips of his fingers pushing the felt farmer’s hat off the top of his head. His mother remained silent, blinking infrequently -- she was too physically and mentally exhausted from the thirty-hour labor to cry.
The priest turned to the midwives and farmers clogging the doorway to the hut. “Go. Leave us.” Some hesitated. “Please.”
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