Almonds. They’re dark, brown, elongated. They’re my eyes; the eyes that have followed me from the States to Britain. They’re what the world first sees when I interact with it. They’re in part what the world judges me by. They’ve shaped my identity whether I like it or not.
In southern California, these eyes go by unacknowledged. With such a high population of different ethnicities and backgrounds, they’re part of a myriad of unique features: hooked noses, freckles, dark skin. The…Continue
Added by Tiffany J. Lew on August 18, 2011 at 2:40pm — No Comments
Follow the chatter; mumbled and jumbled sounds on meaning’s verge.
Follow the laughter; the one that almost sounds like cries.
Follow the silence; the emptiness.
Follow them through a winding alleyway; the one leading into the heart of men and women.
They hold glasses filled with what could be. And at night’s end, it will be.
The flickering, lazy lights dangle and sway. From above, they protest the screaming, the not-so-sly remarks, the Smirnoff. They…Continue
“So you’re from the States…where in the States are you from?” he asks, as he carefully places a tiny, antique bear in the palm of my hand.
“California.” By now, my response almost spills out expectantly: I wait for the excited smile to stretch across his face. For him to ask me which part of California I’m from and to then ask me about beaches and other picturesque things.
All of which he does.
He asks about beaches, my promximity to the beach, and the always sunny…Continue