The Food Upon Which Others Feast by Thomas Elson

Two of our votaries perched like hawks on the walkway, thirty feet above the driveway, in front of a limestone building constructed in 1868. Obadiah, the senior votary, impeccably attired in a dark blue suit, silk tie – the color of which befitted our calendar – and sunglasses, rested his hands on the polished railing. […]

Read More

Gentle, Gentle by Vina Nguyen

When Ba built the garage floor, no walls, no roof existed. White, large men drove in with a truck that housed a sideways rolling barrel; it churned liquid cement into a square, thin pool. The men and Ba settled the grey gruel, swept and spread it out with their metal-bladed, long brooms. […]

Read More