In the first half of 1981, it was just a few who died.
Latent in Translation
She knew how to read a newspaper article when she was five; now she cannot tell Chinese from hieroglyphics.
The God of Love
As I walked home, I felt it—little wings against my lungs.
Montauk’s Design
Two houses, virtually identical in structure and appearance. Odd, right?
A Ghost In The Hallway
At night he could hear her rustling the curtain. He would whisper his questions to her.
Anything that Shines
There’s an our kind and a their kind.
The Mean Streets
I was Indiana Jones, hanging from a rope above a pit of snakes, my moves skilled and sure. My recorder was below, begging to be rescued like whatever unrealistic female heroine Jones would fall in love with and then totally forget about by the sequel.
Port-au-Prince
She took in another breath, reminding herself of the hours she would have to spend today making forced smiles to cover her nerves, laughing anxiously to prevent herself from saying something she didn’t mean, and breathing in and out to steady her heartbeat.
Multiple Deterrents
I know what Venita does. I'm not stupid. She doesn't know I know, the fragrances of her leaving and the taste of her returning.
Crab Girl
There are two honors for women here. One is that you marry well; your husband doesn’t beat you and will hold you close at night. Two: you become a crab girl in the crab factory.
BERKELEY FICTION REVIEW 