Fiction

Dreaming Once More

This way of talking had helped us recognize each other, to keep us from getting lost.

Pay It Forward

While Mai’s English is not much better than her mother’s, being the eldest, she is expected to be Thiên’s translator and problem-solver during most days.

Mini-mall Melancholia

The mechanical whirring fan in the corner of Dawb’s fabric stall has made ten rotations in the past three minutes.

Bulldozer

It’s true, you can’t block the path of a bulldozer. My father said it’s because a bulldozer doesn’t have feelings.

This is (not) romance fiction.

Let's imagine this is a literary trial in which I was accused of the worst crime for a writer in my country—writing something worth writing about.

Oakland Night Question

San Francisco is thirty minutes away. If I want my story to end before morning, I’d better start now.