Essay by Tuan Phan
One of our first meals in this new country was the hamburger, a food that was, we were told in the camps, invented by Americans.
One of our first meals in this new country was the hamburger, a food that was, we were told in the camps, invented by Americans.
A survivor craves closeness, yet sabotages even the slightest hint of it.
Always someone somewhere whose wall-kicking must be stopped.
I see her reach for the bare-chested man with the homemade tattoos and the dog that doesn’t respond.
I don’t know how the world ends, but I know fire lies.