Flash Frog

Our friends owned a cabin five hours from the closest gas station, seven hours if the forest service road was closed, and there was a group of us who’d drive up every year after the kids got out of school, skipping the Last Day…

American Boy teaches me all the ways to say home run. Big Fly. Homer. Dinger. Grand Salami. When he isn’t looking, I anoint each word with their Chinese translations, imagining they are caterpillars morphed into cocoon, too early or damaged to be exchanged for…

Tomorrow we will attend the belated funerals of our youth in dress pants and collared blouses. We will give our apologies for the loss and sit in stifling silence and then go home and tell our partners of the people we caught up with,…