…let you in mine, but we already have one too many.” The bus pulled onto the freeway. The air was stuffy, but she didn’t want to ask Tiff to open the window, much less reach over Tiff and open it herself. Tiff pulled a stack of fashion magazines from her backpack and offered one to Josie. Reading on buses made… [Read More]

…He studied so hard that he had to start wearing prescription eyeglasses. He must be working the night shift now. Ghassemi has a boutique and travels to Turkey two or three times a year to buy merchandise. All he does is fool around with women. Mahmoud committed suicide. He was a poet. Once when he was reading one of his… [Read More]

…ass, Seeing as how she never wore panties; Beaten at last, bloodied tooth and nail, he crawled Back to his room with her smells all over him. He dreaded the pale Sundays of December, Perched on a stool, hair plastered to his head with oil, Reading the cabbage leaves of the family Bible; Every night in bed his dreams oppressed… [Read More]

…we’re reading braille or something. It’s weird, Steph. It’s something. And I say, ‘Mom, what’s that old black guy doing in there?’” “He got a name?” “Who?” “I’m just tired of hearing you call him ‘this old black guy’ or ‘that old black guy.’” “What is it anyhow about that fella you were watching? He got you all worked up?”… [Read More]

…might be. My laundry was spinning in the dryer and I was reading a book when he came in. He was wearing the same pink bucket hat from the first party, the same slides. My first instinct was to turn and hide, but instead I caught his attention and said hello, forcing brightness into my voice. He seemed to take… [Read More]