A Truku writer on his relationship with his tribe’s traditional craft

By Apyang Imiq
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Fiction

Did she even graduate? Kevin will ask me later, when it’s just us, slumped on our flight back home.

Fiction

The way she speaks will make you certain that she is the only one still alive.

Fiction

It isn’t like her to chase what’s unattainable.

Fiction

Haunting a house isn’t as easy as you might think.

Fiction

This is my friend, the K-pop star.

Fiction

“A Beautiful Relationship” and “The Price of Freedom”

Fiction

Sometimes, she was just so hard to reason with.

Fiction

She looked up at the high walls. There were some things even they couldn’t keep out.

Fiction

There were eleven steps in the program—one less than AA—to be completed over fifteen days.

Fiction

On the dashboard, the clock blinks 4:03.

Fiction

A flash folio edited by Yi Wei

Fiction

I’ve been reading up on comfort and chaos. I like missing you.

Fiction

How many times she must have labored to make you stop crying, and how many times she held you, acknowledging your pain as you cried.

Fiction

We’d video-game or anime-binge or dream aloud about a future as bright as our childhoods.

Fiction

Our sonorous, sorrowful Korean.

Fiction

Even now you can feel her, flickering. 

Fiction

Two days later I asked her if she would love me no matter what before I told her the truth.

Fiction

If reincarnation is real, let me return a persimmon tree.

Fiction

I know what it is like to travel into the quiet dusk, but don’t know what her fear felt like.

Fiction

Did she even graduate? Kevin will ask me later, when it’s just us, slumped on our flight back home.

Fiction

The way she speaks will make you certain that she is the only one still alive.

Fiction

A flash folio edited by Yi Wei

Fiction

It isn’t like her to chase what’s unattainable.

Fiction

I’ve been reading up on comfort and chaos. I like missing you.

Fiction

Haunting a house isn’t as easy as you might think.

Fiction

How many times she must have labored to make you stop crying, and how many times she held you, acknowledging your pain as you cried.

Fiction

This is my friend, the K-pop star.

Fiction

We’d video-game or anime-binge or dream aloud about a future as bright as our childhoods.

Fiction

“A Beautiful Relationship” and “The Price of Freedom”

Fiction

Our sonorous, sorrowful Korean.

Fiction

Sometimes, she was just so hard to reason with.

Fiction

Even now you can feel her, flickering. 

Fiction

She looked up at the high walls. There were some things even they couldn’t keep out.

Fiction

Two days later I asked her if she would love me no matter what before I told her the truth.

Fiction

There were eleven steps in the program—one less than AA—to be completed over fifteen days.

Fiction

If reincarnation is real, let me return a persimmon tree.

Fiction

On the dashboard, the clock blinks 4:03.

Fiction

I know what it is like to travel into the quiet dusk, but don’t know what her fear felt like.