At Eighteen 05/02/2018 This morning while still half-asleep in bed, I realized that two of my teenage daughters had left for school, but that I hadn’t heard the telltale footfall or breakfast-making noises of the third. “You awake?” I texted. When she didn’t respond, I made my way upstairs to her room. Her door was open six inches or so, and I could see her still fast asleep, long hair fanned out on the pillow, morning sun painting her with fairytale light. She is eighteen now—a senior in high school—but when sleeping
This morning while still half-asleep in bed, I realized that two of my teenage daughters had left for school, but that I hadn’t heard the telltale footfall or breakfast-making noises of the third. “You awake?” I texted. When she didn’t respond, I made my way upstairs to her room. Her door was open six inches or so, and I could see her still fast asleep, long hair fanned out on the pillow, morning sun painting her with fairytale light. She is eighteen now—a senior in high school—but when sleeping
Madaling Araw / Daybreak 03/21/2018 This story first appeared in Lakas Zine. __________ She awoke, unsurprised, on a bed of crushed glass. Once it was fire ants, once it was lengths of twisted wire, rotting fish, bludgeoned rodents. They were always doing shit like this. She rose to her feet quickly in a single motion and walked into the lake to rinse away the shards semi-buried in her back, her buttocks, her calves. Her hair, like her mother’s before her, was thick as twisted rope, and the back of it glittered with sharp
This story first appeared in Lakas Zine. __________ She awoke, unsurprised, on a bed of crushed glass. Once it was fire ants, once it was lengths of twisted wire, rotting fish, bludgeoned rodents. They were always doing shit like this. She rose to her feet quickly in a single motion and walked into the lake to rinse away the shards semi-buried in her back, her buttocks, her calves. Her hair, like her mother’s before her, was thick as twisted rope, and the back of it glittered with sharp
[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] 10/04/2017 Today when I pick my 15-year-old daughter up from school, she has one of her best friends in tow. This isn’t unusual in and of itself, but she has texted me ahead of time to let me know that today is a little different. The girl walks behind my daughter, one palm flat against my daughter’s back, as if the familiar terrain of the parking lot has suddenly become fraught with danger. Her face is wet with tears, strands of her hair have fallen loose from the elastic, her jacket sits crooked on her
Today when I pick my 15-year-old daughter up from school, she has one of her best friends in tow. This isn’t unusual in and of itself, but she has texted me ahead of time to let me know that today is a little different. The girl walks behind my daughter, one palm flat against my daughter’s back, as if the familiar terrain of the parking lot has suddenly become fraught with danger. Her face is wet with tears, strands of her hair have fallen loose from the elastic, her jacket sits crooked on her
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