The Rice Song

It was just rice pilaf nestled beneath her lemon chicken, a sprig of parsley asleep beside it on her plate but something about those little dark grains jumbled up with plain old steamed white rice had set off a gunpowder flash of recognition and kinship. There wasn’t enough wild rice in that pilaf to even be noticed.

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Blunt Force Impact, a personal essay

The top of my bedroom dresser is buried again. Outside, the sky is brittle blue, and there is snow on the ground. My dresser top is littered with stray socks, bits of paper, stones, jewelry, a dead telephone, a newspaper clipping, and things I can’t yet see. Deciding it’s a good day to clear it, I empty tissue paper out of a shoebox to begin with one thing empty.

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Damaged Goods, a short story

Agnes Looking Horse stopped believing in God at age fifteen when she discovered God came to America on the same ships that brought the white man. Now, in the autumn of her life, there didn’t seem much point in looking further. No, not much point. She dressed for work thinking about it all—about life, about change, about time.

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