by M. Anne Kala`i
Naiwi’s first and only visit to the mainland nearly burned him down. Desperate to escape the island that knew him better than he knew himself, he sold what valuables he could scrape together from distracted vacationers and his cash-strapped family, and lit out for California. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Jean-Luke Swanepoel
When I was five and fretful, my uncle was the kindest man I knew. Until I watched him run over a dead raccoon on that road to the mall on the outskirts of town. During summer it was a road through a field of green stalks, but it was winter and the fields were barren. He swerved firmly to make contact with the pile of blood and bones which passed like a hiccup beneath the wheels.
Filed under Fiction
by Daniel Webre
The dreams were never the scary part. It was Allison’s interpretations. Even these weren’t terrifying in a conventional manner. It’s just that Allison’s mind could make connections no one else would ever think of, and though most of these made no sense, once they were in her head, she’d become so convinced of their reality that a part of me was never quite sure anymore.
Let me give you an example. Once I dreamt of my cousin Fred. Fred and I were picking pineapples with a machete, reaching carefully inside the palm fronds and cutting just below the ripe fruit. I had not seen Fred since my childhood, and this was a grown man with a Hemingway beard. But in my dream I knew the man was Fred in the same way you can tell in the movies when time passes and someone has aged and maybe isn’t even played by the same actor. This was Fred all right, and the thing was, even though we were out in the tropical heat and there were a lot of these pineapples to harvest, we were having a wonderful time. Continue reading
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by Ann Yuan
I have a cold uterus.
It’s hard to explain. In traditional Chinese medicine, one cause of infertility is that your uterus is too cold. Of course, when they say “cold,” it doesn’t mean it’s cold to touch. Also, the term “uterus” includes the whole set of reproductive systems instead of just the pear-shaped organ itself. The point is, you have to provide an optimal environment in order to grow something as delicate as a fertilized egg. Continue reading
by Zach Murphy
The cicadas are extremely loud this summer, and so are my mother’s outfits. The leopard print high-heels, the oversized sunglasses, and the hat with the pink floral arrangement on its brim are some of the more understated pieces in her wardrobe.
“You don’t hear about the sun when it’s behind the clouds,” she once told me as she put her beet-red lipstick on in the mirror. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 