Meeting Salim

Meeting Salim

Squatted on the ledge of his hand-pulled rickshaw, a man with light grey hair, in a chequered lungi peered at me as I looked at…

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Homecoming

Homecoming

“As a rock on the seashore he standeth firm, and the dashing of the sea waves disturbeth him not. He raises his head like a…

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The Tashka

The Tashka

It was made of aluminum, I suppose or some other metal. It was shiny and steel colored and had my father’s other name, the European…

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Missile Crisis

Missile Crisis

An essay by Joshua Weinstein   Our fate will not dare to reject us. This fact I know well, if we’re all blown to hell…

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The Road to Tullahoma

The Road to Tullahoma

“Go on now, nobody needs ya ‘round here.” groused Whitman as he spoke to the wind that rattled the length of a row of Beech…

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The Memory of Being

The Memory of Being

Sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four, close the door… I pat my matted hair and unbunch the long gown caught between my legs. It’s wet and clumpy and…

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Over and Over

Over and Over

I had recently graduated from college, where, as a matter of fact, I received an outstanding dissertation award. I met Lucila in an introductory stock…

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All The King’s Men

All The King’s Men

The family came to visit the house one warm Sunday, early May, the April rain lingering in parks, on sidewalks, in the cloudy skies. The…

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Hsi-Wei and The Twin Disasters

Hsi-Wei and The Twin Disasters

Note:  The following is drawn from the Tang Minister Fang Xuan-ling’s account of his extensive conversations with the peasant/poet Chen Hsi-wei, whom he visited in…

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Dry Day

Dry Day

The date was 27 June. Or it may have been 28th. I’m not sure. But this took place at a time when I was still…

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The Ballad of Maher’s Skin Cancer

The Ballad of Maher’s Skin Cancer

When he told her that Dr. Kahn said he had skin cancer because over the years he had refused to wear a hat, sat too…

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Carnations like you

Carnations like you

You sit across me. Cross-legged. Laughing. That cheeky cheesy ‘I give up on you’ laughter of yours, biting your lip and sighing at me. I…

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Trespass

Trespass

Every day, before I begin my rounds, I stop at our home’s shrine to Zheng He, the one whose voyages over 300 years ago started…

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The Fruit Grove Girl

The Fruit Grove Girl

I’m not sure why I didn’t tell Grandma about the girl sleeping in our fruit grove. It was around midday when I found her. The…

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Insomnia

Insomnia

Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato…

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