PUBLISHED SHORT FICTION

A Tooth is still a tooth

When she walks into the room, the endodontist’s face is a perfect reflection of my emotions—shock shifting into confusion shifting into understanding shifting into recognition. And then, for me, settling back into shock—at the possibility that the same way I’m expecting her East Asian face to reorient itself into a Latina one, she might be waiting for my Chinese features to reorient themselves into Middle Eastern ones. 

Swallow

Before Rina left, we talked about her death. But only late at night after Ana was in bed. “I hope she’s dreaming about teaching piano to the cat,” I’d say of our daughter, smiling at the ideas that lit up Ana’s eyes while she was awake. 

You know you’re chinese

There’s an exhilarating sizzle at the very instant steaming hot oil meets raw, chopped slivers of ginger and scallions. A frisson worthy of a Hollywood love-at-first-sight story when all senses—sound, sight, smell, taste, and touch—are no longer separate.