I’ve lived in cities my whole life. The way people talk about vistas and floodplains is the way I talk about crowded intersections and underground malls.
Did I create the myth of Chinatown, or did the myth create me? It was stories of immigrants that brought me to this apartment on Mott Street, and I hope that in the process of adding my own story to this history, I will finally be able to let it go.
Excerpt from The Cut
Then the little baby wakes up and starts crying. It’s like the whole family’s signal to start getting ready for some big event. The whole house is in action. I guess it is the mom who ducks out of the room and comes back. She is holding a piece of glass, almost the size of an egg, and it is suspended on a string. It looks like a broken-off shard from a chandelier. She holds the baby and gently swings the glass above the baby’s head. Between the television light, the sunlight, and the lights on in the house, the glass throws a thousand colors around us and the baby magically stops crying. I’ve got to admit, I feel something too.
Excerpt from Narrative
Algorithmic Problem Solving for Father-Daughter Relationships
If (daughter comes to stay)
then (if (temperature = cold))
then (enjoy home cooking)
else (watch movies)
else (buy her consumer electronics)
Excerpt from Ploughshares