“How do you as a storyteller account for traces of the erased, the denied or that flat out vanished?”—Junot Díaz
“What are those?”I’m staying overnight with my daughter and her friends on a field trip. My daughter’s best friend is looking at the ziploc bag of paper, sitting on the hotel bedside table.
1.The comment on my blog begins, “I have found you and your sister at last.” The commenter describes herself as a childhood/young-adulthood friend of my dad’s. As far as I know, we’ve never met. But she knows my sister’s and my name, two fairly unusual names even in Japanese America. …
We arrived in Seattle at about the same time, and we’re the same age. We’ve both got family ties to Japan. When he arrived, he made just about as much as I did—that is, if you didn’t count the word “million” in his salary and “hundred” in mine.
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