by Gay Baines
It all started with a little argument he had with his mother, coming out of a larger, more important argument with his father.
His father wanted him to be a scientist. “Something practical.” But Jesus liked words: English lit, writing, acting. Especially acting. He would be the next Raul Julia. He imagined himself playing Romeo, Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear. He would show the Anglos how great a Latino actor could be. Continue reading
by Shuly Xóchitl Cawood
Marjorie rifled through the bathroom trash can with her right hand while using her left hand to grip the bathroom counter and steady herself. She’d had a little too much wine after her late lunch, but she deserved it, frankly. Though it was a cheap white wine from the grocery store, Marjorie felt sophisticated drinking it instead of beer, and she wanted to feel beautiful and sexy, even if she was in her house alone. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Andrea Nolan
The girl felt a flick against her instep, and although the drowse of the day was thick upon her, she knew that when she opened her eyes her father’s fishing rod would be gone from where she had held it under her foot. She stood at the dock’s edge and looked at the blue-brown water. The concentric circles of the pole’s disappearance had only just begun their outward expansion. There was still a chance to catch the rod.
by Will Brooks
Russel sat watching the green, yellow, and red swirl on the TV screen, reminding him of the tie-dye T-shirts his brother had worn while going through his hippie stage. The weather man kept calling the storm Katie. He hated that name about as much as he hated rain. Katie had been his third girlfriend’s name and had broken his heart when, at the seventh grade dance, she’d dropped him like a hot rock when asked to dance by Clyde Silvey. He stood there with the other wallflowers as Katie and Clyde danced. Clyde knocked Katie up senior year, and after two more kids, they divorced. Russel still hated them both and their names.
Filed under Fiction
by Joseph Han
I’m not one loser. I know how that sounds. That time Ms. Sumida told me after seventh grade English period I was gonna be the only one from Central Middle had a chance go college, I wanted to believe her so bad. I know she was talking about Nicky and Robert them and maybe she was tryna make me feel better or something. Probably saw me in one headlock during lunch recess.
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 