by Zack Knoll
You arrive by train. Everywhere you arrive in Japan is by train. Your high school Japanese language class has organized a trip to Japan. Your group comprises of roughly fifteen students, and your teacher, Sensei. You all speak Japanese well enough to understand the new world around you, but most of you are white.
by Richard McGuire
I had arrived in the north a few hours earlier, and Aamambo was escorting me into Ondangwa to pick up groceries and linens. Conversation was a bit awkward since we had only met about an hour ago; we made small talk about our favorite music and what the school would be like. His thick Oshiwambo accent became so hard for me to understand that I often laughed awkwardly, pretending I understood what he was saying.
by Linda Grashoff
I have grown roots in two places: rural northern Ohio, and near-downtown Sarasota, Florida.
by Marco Wilkinson
The cracked red leather of the barber’s chair and its rusted gears crack and whine as I settle in, ready in this sweat-slicked heat of Kerala in February to be rid of the beard that has been with me all through my Ohio autumn and winter.
by Molly Bradley
Mame-Bineta turns a wary eye on Leah, whose fingers are prying into the flesh of a cooked carrot for the third bite in a row.
“You don’t like fish?” she asks, in French.
“I don’t eat meat,” Leah says, with the smile that is almost apologetic but closer to smug.
