These images kept breaking in, things about Aubrey he fought so hard not to remember.
Versos de mi Alma
I am sitting in my mother’s red Bonneville station wagon. Mamá’s hair is still black and long and flows over the back of the seat.
Remainder
After our first week, I begin to lose things during the walks along the creek.
Haiyang
Don’t worry, I said, you’re the sea, and it’s impossible for the sea to drown. There’s nothing big enough for you.
Desperate Love: Review of “The Case for and Against Love Potions” by Imbolo Mbue
After reading this story, readers may wonder whether a love potion is worth the trouble and risk.
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.
Nurture
Out here, she knew, was his sanctuary, away from his daughter’s problems. Here, only these more easily governed fruits of his labor existed.
Homecoming
I was just taking some time off, I told myself. From college. But more and more it felt like from life.
The Jumper and the Gaijin
Nora learns “gaijin” when she hears the teenagers say it. She’s not heard an adult use it, and when it’s said in her proximity the eikaiwa manager turns stern and scolds the student. So while she knows that it means “outsider,” it must mean something else, something a little shameful, the kind of word said only at home.
BERKELEY FICTION REVIEW 