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I grip the handlebar and pin my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable crash.

From the roof, my husband observed daily a man and a woman having sex.

She pulls quickly on her cigarette and blows it at me through the phone.

Three lives I flicked alight with a few match scrapes. I cupped them.

A woman pushing a walker understands—gravel can be pain.

“I have always had a gift of feeling what is in other people’s hearts.”

What my father and I destroyed, I take back—kneeling, among the shells.

I’m still in love with this filthy city, but now I know Berlin's love isn’t free.

No one answered. I turned to his parents. My stomach felt on fire.

We didn’t give the order to drop the bomb. But thank God somebody did.

For the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air.

It was good they were Africans, she thought. It meant less danger.

Sue Williams tells a pitch-perfect story outloud, about devotion.

Gramps’ will was a fifty-year diary, all jammed onto two sheets.

I was getting a little fogged, but I recognized irony when I heard it.

He held a screwdriver to the fleshy underside of Peggy’s neck.

All we knew from my father was that my sister had to be cut from her car.

This is not America! It is not the America I grew up in, it’s
a joke.

“Ki-Tae the famous pastor,” Jae says to her. “Can you believe life.”

I felt that this maternal oblivion could be the rest of my life.

A gift tells you who you are and what you’re not in the eyes of others.

If there was any magic in his sad life, it happened on that day.

They danced only with one another and did not speak to white boys.

When the coach called again, Wayne felt his temper slipping.

We shall still cherish in our hearts the memory of those dead.

“I can’t hold it any longer. I have to pee,” I finally confessed to Viola.

However hard I trudge and search I cannot find the hills I have climbed.

“You think you know me,” the girl spat back, locking eyes with Esiha.

Each harbored a sense that a family of three was not a real family.