Category Archives: Fiction

Coming of Age in Maui

by Corey Pung

Coming of age in Samoa, twins Masina and Lanuola believed their father to be an Olympian. This was the story their mother told: Natia had met Toussaint when he was a merchant marine picking up cocoa beans and copra by the ton and dropping off crates of furniture, clothing, paintings and books to the American consulate in Pago Pago. Natia was leading a dissolute and unrewarding life at the time, running orders and scrubbing dishes in a Europeanized cafe within walking distance of the docks. Local boys didn’t thrill her, she said. Her daughters were at the age they simply thought boys were vasti–stupid–and didn’t catch her drift. Continue reading

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Distance: A Case Study of You and I

by Caitlin Friel

Scientifically speaking, there is always distance between two objects. Like when you’re touching someone, you’re not actually touching them at all. The electrons that exist on the outer limits of the atoms that comprise everything repel one another. So every sensation we feel on our skin, in our mouths, and everywhere else on our bodies is really just repulsion. Continue reading


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Udon Noodles

by Mika Yamamoto

Masako woke up craving udon. Her mouth watered at the thought of the thick, chewy noodles dipped in fish stock, with a sprinkle of thinly sliced green onions and a dash of hot sichimi pepper. She sat up, rubbed sleep out of her eyes. Her husband, Higashi, was sleeping on his right side with his right arm tucked under the pillow. He slept quietly and Continue reading

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Raspberry Vanilla Zephyr

by Karen Fayeth 

Be cool, man, be cool, said the voice inside Billy’s brain as he looked at Josey Adams looking at a pillow top Posturepedic with double lumbar support.

Boy, I’d support every single one of her lumbar, that same voice said. Continue reading


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by Shannon L. Bowring

No one’s asking what I think about the tree.

“Tear it out,” says my father.

“If you had it your way,” my mother sighs, “the entire lawn would be a golf course.”

“If you try to tear it down,” my Sister the Activist proclaims, “I’ll live in it. You aren’t so heartless that you’d bulldoze a tree your own daughter was living in, would you?”

“Lawn guy’s coming Saturday. The tree goes.”
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