Published in Drunk Monkeys Magazine


Today of all days, the streetcar to Old Town ran more than an hour late. It was almost four o’clock by the time it stopped in front of Uncle Wu’s store at the southwest corner, where the Pearl ends and Chinatown begins. She could see him hanging up dried squid in the gold, octagon-shaped window, but today she didn’t have time to stop.

May’s heart was racing, ears pounding. It was Tuesday. Had it been any other day, she wouldn’t have been running so hard her chest ached, out of breath. The fall wind whipped her cheeks as she pushed harder down the block. The anxiety wrapped around her throat, choking the breath from her. Her mother would be sitting, waiting at their small kitchen table, ready to spring out like a tiger once she walked in.

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