Explore

The Nightcrawler

He only told the world what the world wanted to hear from a guy who graduated from Harvard.

The Only Time We Think of It Is When It’s No Longer There

No fountains to quench the thirst between rounds of tag.

The Palace of the People

Part of me wished I’d never tried heroin. The rest wanted to be high.

The Part That Burns

Mafia didn’t like me, except for the tickling game. It went like this.

The Photographs of Your Life

I saw it on her face that day, a look like her heart would drift into the sky.

The Poem Is the Story

Sometimes a story is like a beehive. Sometimes an idea is like a poem.

The Poultry Trader’s Daughter Inherits the Business

Every dawn you’d toss the feed, your hands faithful to the good work of rising.

The Promised Land

She must know she was a mistake, what they call now a surprise.

The Reader in Quarantine

She could not remember what Past and Present stood for.

The Religious Experience

“For the entire time I was there I couldn’t get that out of my head.”

The Rickshaw Wallah

He was last in Calcutta more than fifteen years ago, for his mother’s funeral. Han Ru feels something vaguely discomfiting, followed by a surge of recognition.

The Right Fielder

Far below, the right fielder circles and stares, mitt raised to the sky.

The Romance of Elsewhere

If you want to know what to write, ask yourself what obsesses you.

The Rooms

In the rooms you picked up what you liked, like shells on a beach.

The Rotten Ones

We chose to stay in the brutality of that night, even as the girls walked away.

The Salaryman

It almost makes you cry, to know that you are no longer needed.

The Servants’ Quarters

Ma didn’t believe in slapping. It was what common people did.

The Shortstop

I understood that for us there would be no mourning the shortstop.

The Sin of Height

What humanity needed was that gravity-defying miracle, the bird.

The Small Hours

The past, you hear it, the small hours, sucked down the undertow.

The Speed of Dark

I have studied and become intimate with the speed of darkness.

The Store in Which I Am Turned to a Widow

Outside of Ikea’s window the nighttime wind tilts like a folk song.

The Story of a Scar

“As your brother, I ask you, how did you get that scar on your face?”

The Structure of Bubbles

He was trying to seduce me with his history, which was mine as well.

The Stylist

For a month after 9/11 Bella wept through all her appointments.

The Summing Up

I thought it was beauty alone that gave significance to life.

The Third Round

If you let me live, I will buy you beer whenever I see you in town.

The Tracks

No parent has yet been born who can save a child from childhood.

The Trade-Off

Strange then, strange now, that language wants to be alone with me.

The Tradition

Men like me and my brothers filmed what we planted for proof we existed.