She was a child drawn to the shine of bright things like the candlesticks in church. Or a silver cup left over from before her mother couldn’t work anymore. Looking
I’m Putha from a refugee camp in Jammu in the southern part of the state of Jammu and Kashmir. My family was part of an exodus from Kashmir after killing
The Bronx had always been a temporary stop along the path toward upward mobility. Not a place where Jewish people living on our block wanted their kids to grow-up; it
Jerold wished he could audition for a part as TV’s Jack-in-the Box with that white Styrofoam thing pulled over his head. Not that he was particularly scary looking. It’s just
Black is the color of my true love’s hair and Marlon Brando’s motorcycle jacket, each tooth a silver zipper. Black is the color of roadies drinking beer down the street
The old woman who lived in the bottom apartment called me. Her name was Basuma. Freckles covered her hands and arms and made her look like a ripe banana. She