Pauline Park, Myles Markham, and Xoài Pham on the queer historical figures across Asia that have inspired in them a sense of belonging

By Sarah Ngu
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Fiction

땀과 핏물과 진물이 뒤섞여 끈적한 그의 맨발이 젖어 번들거린다. || His bare feet, sticky with a mix of sweat and blood and ooze, glisten.

Fiction

20 Thai Baht = 33 Philippine Pesos = 44 Indian Rupees = x bolt of fabric = y square vuông of rice = 15,000 Vietnamese đồng = 2,600 Cambodian Riel = 2.6 Malaysian Ringgit = 9,100 Indonesian Rupiah = unquantifiable sweat

Fiction

รองเท้านักเรียนคู่นั้นยี่สิบบาทเองหรือ || These school uniform shoes are only twenty baht?

Fiction

By what divine aberration did our souls divide into two, unaware of the splitting?

Fiction

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d notice as a casual passer-by, but one you could only find if you were looking for it.

Fiction

A two-minute stare-down with their father’s deathbed occurs. As though the thing will explain itself.

Fiction

Astra unwrapped her long spindly fingers and weighed his member with a chilling fascination.

Fiction

The dreams only start after camp, after I take my first swim with Appah. I watch him with binoculars as he moves farther and farther out into the deep.

Essays

A collection of essays, poems, and stories by Asian American writers that trouble, expand, and redefine the space of the camp

Fiction

These are all birth stories, but I will not tell you mine.

Fiction

The slippers allowed her the pleasure of spatial recognition, an opportunity to go back in time and become the person cared for, rather than the one perpetually burdened with the responsibility of caring.

Fiction

52 years since it was first published, the groundbreaking novel No-No Boy has been reissued by Penguin Classics. The new edition features an introduction by Karen Tei Yamashita.

Fiction

Sometimes you wonder if there really is a place called heaven nearby. You will ask yourself which would be better: Death? Or 38 years in prison?

Fiction

How might a children’s book explain prison abolition?

Fiction

As soon as they touch your saliva, the filaments dissolve. Their structure can’t sustain the contact. The sweetness is the taste of collapse.

Fiction

She kissed a fingertip and touched it to the frayed edge of a small sketch of her face. It was all she had left of him, a drawing that he had made of her.

Fiction

I will outrun the smell of wet decay, your Mekong river in a Gatorade bottle.

Fiction

Mama runs inside to bang on the bathroom door and yell Chinese vocabulary words at me—yellow light, borrowed light, get in the car, open. I dip my head underwater so every word sounds like a vowel, oceanic and slow.

Fiction

The dysthemic artificial intelligence scientist took a book of poetry off the shelf and sat on her couch. What was she ushering in and what was a grand program for which she was simply helpless agent?

Fiction

Văn An had neglected ritual, not realizing that this was a land now full of ghosts left too long unmoored. That there might be consequences for forgetting to fear.

Fiction

땀과 핏물과 진물이 뒤섞여 끈적한 그의 맨발이 젖어 번들거린다. || His bare feet, sticky with a mix of sweat and blood and ooze, glisten.

Fiction

The slippers allowed her the pleasure of spatial recognition, an opportunity to go back in time and become the person cared for, rather than the one perpetually burdened with the responsibility of caring.

Fiction

20 Thai Baht = 33 Philippine Pesos = 44 Indian Rupees = x bolt of fabric = y square vuông of rice = 15,000 Vietnamese đồng = 2,600 Cambodian Riel = 2.6 Malaysian Ringgit = 9,100 Indonesian Rupiah = unquantifiable sweat

Fiction

52 years since it was first published, the groundbreaking novel No-No Boy has been reissued by Penguin Classics. The new edition features an introduction by Karen Tei Yamashita.

Fiction

รองเท้านักเรียนคู่นั้นยี่สิบบาทเองหรือ || These school uniform shoes are only twenty baht?

Fiction

Sometimes you wonder if there really is a place called heaven nearby. You will ask yourself which would be better: Death? Or 38 years in prison?

Fiction

By what divine aberration did our souls divide into two, unaware of the splitting?

Fiction

How might a children’s book explain prison abolition?

Fiction

It wasn’t the kind of place you’d notice as a casual passer-by, but one you could only find if you were looking for it.

Fiction

As soon as they touch your saliva, the filaments dissolve. Their structure can’t sustain the contact. The sweetness is the taste of collapse.

Fiction

A two-minute stare-down with their father’s deathbed occurs. As though the thing will explain itself.

Fiction

She kissed a fingertip and touched it to the frayed edge of a small sketch of her face. It was all she had left of him, a drawing that he had made of her.

Fiction

Astra unwrapped her long spindly fingers and weighed his member with a chilling fascination.

Fiction

I will outrun the smell of wet decay, your Mekong river in a Gatorade bottle.

Fiction

The dreams only start after camp, after I take my first swim with Appah. I watch him with binoculars as he moves farther and farther out into the deep.

Fiction

Mama runs inside to bang on the bathroom door and yell Chinese vocabulary words at me—yellow light, borrowed light, get in the car, open. I dip my head underwater so every word sounds like a vowel, oceanic and slow.

Essays

A collection of essays, poems, and stories by Asian American writers that trouble, expand, and redefine the space of the camp

Fiction

The dysthemic artificial intelligence scientist took a book of poetry off the shelf and sat on her couch. What was she ushering in and what was a grand program for which she was simply helpless agent?

Fiction

These are all birth stories, but I will not tell you mine.

Fiction

Văn An had neglected ritual, not realizing that this was a land now full of ghosts left too long unmoored. That there might be consequences for forgetting to fear.