Fiction

The shrill of the incoming train forces pedestrians, crowding at the edge to step back from the platform. I stand alone under grey clouds.

“It’s 29 degrees, the sun is burning our heads. It’s a Sunday, and tomorrow is the last day. Discounts will be much higher...."

Peyton Cheung and Ting Zhang shared the same last name, if not quite the same. Lately, that funny little name felt not enough for Peyton. She wanted to make them...

The kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and living room were all cramped, no barrier separating them. Instead of white marble, the floor was made of dark brown wood typical of older houses,...

Low-hanging stray branches stretched lifeless, just a breadth short into my room, like groping skeletal fingers. The bird, inching ever closer, took them as invitation. It hopped with more grace...

Upstairs, the brown stone walls zigzagged across the screen. She spent the rest of daylight cleaning them up. The evening non-traffic spread outside her window. Endless brown blocks filled her...