Salt can cure us. I’ve seen it done before: like a few days ago, when you came in from the pouring rain, all drenched and miserable. Your socks were sopping. You were shivering just a little, and I glanced at the fire and nodded at the easy chair. Though the snow has melted, I knew […]

Grandma (whose name is Jasmine)

You feather like ink on linen or smudged pencil lines whenever I try to place you in my mind; my memory marred by weather, by seasons, by the Pacific that separates us. I could picture you in humid Asia; lightweight, fragile as if you’re formed by the bones of bird or fish. Over there it’s […]