Folks still talk about Esperanza around these parts and I know I’m one of them. She meant a lot to me and to this town. Most don’t know why she left, or where she went. Some call her an adulterer, trash, or even whore, for the uneducated. I don’t pay those people any mind because [...]
I didn’t want to tell her. She was staring back at me with eyes that looked like holes and I was scared to make them deeper and darker. But I didn’t know what else would put a stop to this plane crash. These words couldn’t be fluffed up—they were going to hit like molten comets [...]
The time was 4 p.m., but for those gathered at Los Angeles Memorial Cemetery, it was time to bury Kevin Murdoch.
Living on the reservation meant the nearest fire station was a mile away, more than enough time for a fire to consume the small house he called home.
“Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.” — George Eliot
You come here and ask me to play Angel of Death with human lives you’ve already judged as guilty.
You can be a lady when you’re with me,” John said. He laid there on his back with his eyes closed, fingers perfectly interlocked and placed across his torso in satisfaction “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”
The fighters meet in the center of the ring. There I am in the blue trunks. We tap gloves. I head back to my corner and say a quick prayer.
I finished typing the last line to the story I had just spent the last six months of my life researching. In it described a one Victor Lopez. As I leaned back in my chair, I stretched out, thinking about how I got to this point.
He told me Kabul was a city of wires. He told me wires hung loose from the poles like over-used tightropes.
My father’s my hero. He’s survived a whole lot worse tragedies than you or me, and yet I’ve never seen him cry in my life.