For Aisha It all started when Baba came home from Cairo. That was when you got those crazy ideas, they say. At night in the coolness of our stone house the soft roar of trucks on the highway to Rabat came and went like ocean waves, and we whispered to one another...
The old Ford pickup with a camper on back pulled over on the on-ramp to pick me up. I had slept the night in a field across the street from a casino on the end of the strip. “Where you headed?” “Anywhere east. Montreal, eventually.” The old man behind the wheel wore a...
I WAS FOURTEEN when my father first took me fishing. Part of a father-daughter, weekend-visitation thing that, to be quite honest, bothered me. See, my father was alien to me, with his barrel chest and his big game magazines spread across his coffee table. He was the...
What former Soviet Socialist Republic best describes you? Which character are you from the sitcom Joey? Which Bruce Jenner plastic surgery procedure are you? Which antidepressant medication are you? If you were a concentration camp, which would you be? Which Manson...
Jenny falls asleep mid-murmur while my eyes trace the ceiling shadows. Her body curves outward from mine. Under her pillow, our left hands join. Her other hand, the only uncovered part of her, ventures a few inches into the night. Her socked feet tuck themselves...
