zoeticrain's profile

For years, she played her old detuned radio. It fuzzed and crackled like her cigarettes slowly dying in the ash tray. She swore she could hear a song¾ and she insisted I was too young to understand or be patient. Be patient, she'd say. And I would wait. She'd turn the radio to the window and fiddle with the dials. She could hear the song, so she'd sing along with the static of voices, faint as ghosts. I would sit in wonder, waiting for the day my ears would catch those words she heard. I want...

Your mother loves me like only a woman without a daughter could. My hips are fleshy, my face is hot— but still, I am too thin. She feeds me Chinese superstitions and the only American cookies she can bake. I have loved you for a year and she knows I will be your wife. Your mother fears for your brother who is having his second child so soon. She hopes she has enough time and love for our new family. She's beaming and bumbling— her excitement overcomes her and her English loses its rhythm. Her...

A top-dollar heart ticks— will it be appraised soon? I wonder if the buyer would ask me about any past or present trauma. Do I lose value with each sob or raging fever? I feel the swell in my chest— like a bloated piggy bank. I am a chamber of fortune. It's only flesh and blood; organs were made to sell and trade. How do I barter with something you've already stolen?

I sent you sixteen letters last month. Aunt Jackie said you opened each one, read them with your glasses on and your mouth hanging open in excitement. You'd fold them neatly when finished, toss them onto the table and ask, "That's nice, but who are these letters from?" Letter after letter, you'd read my stories and learn about me falling in love and doing all the great things you told me to do. You never minded the confusion, but instead read with pure curiosity, even though you and I are now...

I do not know what I will do when you die. I suppose I can still write you letters. I will mail them to your address and know someone will collect them. They will be handwritten, in large print so you can read clearly that I am doing well in school. I will write you letters with stories about the family. (They rarely talk to me, but it will make us both feel better.) I will write you notes on postcards and tell you I'm planning another trip. I will ask how you are but I won't be upset if you ...