Explore
Coming of Ageexpand_morePeople didn’t end marriages without warning, without second chances.
They couldn’t go to the Manson family caves because of nuclear radiation.
There is the ghost of a child in me. It longs to die, so afraid of living.
No one could prove it, but we were sure the neighbor shot the horse.
I put my arm around Larry’s shoulders and ask him to pull over.
They’re shrieking down Little Round Top, receiving the good girls’ glares.
I know exactly what to do when Papa has a seizure in the middle of the night.
The jealous Othello, ready for murder, was transformed into a school-boy.
I’m alive, Sarah thinks, the slam of his look going all the way in.
Welcome to my bed. I have these two beers, do you want them?
He greets you with a kiss and marries your elbow to walk the path.
I lie down and see you one bed over; therefore God exists.
Even as a child, I was skeptical—testing God when He wasn’t looking.
His flannel sleeve dangled into the flame. Pretty soon, I was on fire too.
In the school smock, I looked like an angel in search of her crèche.
Her last relationship was with Elsa’s Instagram, truth be told. If Elsa is going to accept her follower invite, it needs to look believable. You did a bad thing, she thinks, and this is what you get.
Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.
I saw the glowing body, silver with time, emerge from behind a lone pine.
How large our muscles have to be to lift our wings even a single time.
The walls pull apart like a troubled couple, finally deciding to hold.
The mechanism and its crank pull us forever closer, you and I.
I am veins and breath, the entrance the world passes through.
There’s nowhere he can kiss where she hasn’t been kissed by the sun.
“What’s the shittiest thing you’ve ever done to someone?” she said.
Here, Min Jin reads from her novel at Narrative Night, New York City.
Her biggest secret was Jay Currie—her white American boyfriend.
You don’t know what it’s like to be so hungry that you’d steal to eat.
My father would have ended my clandestine career on the spot.
Let’s put a frog in his bed and have him feel it jump all over him.
Like lions in cages, women like me dream . . . of freedom . . .
