by Molly Anne Blumhoefer
I thought about not going, but I knew I had to show my face, to pretend. It was workplace politics. I sat with more than sixty people in concentric rings around a large conference table for a holiday celebration. We ate potluck foods from plastic plates on our laps: deviled eggs, green chile stew, potatoes, vegetables, salads, beans, tamales, cookies and pies. Continue reading
Hawaii Pacific Review 