Tiffany Tsao

Even worse than experiencing genuine misfortune, to my mind, was telling someone about it and being considered a liar; for isn’t the denial that a massacre happened even more tragic than the massacre itself?

The people she’d met when she moved to Bekasi called her Bison’s mother, Mama of Bison, “Mama Bison,” submitting to the nationwide norm of calling a mother by her firstborn’s name.

Meanwhile, my brother’s scrawny frame is forever entering the station. He gets farther away but never any smaller, and he never disappears into the station entrance. Is he walking in place? He looks like an old photo, with that collared shirt of faded blue.

He can only deny himself three times before the cock crows twice.

After all, memory, in essence, once you strip away the sentimentality, is nothing but a bunch of proteins.

Remember, every minute you’re late will incur a corresponding reduction in your heavenly salary. Each minute you’re late also incurs a 0.33-point penalty, to be subtracted from your end-of-year point total.

Something to remember: Ahmad disappears to pray about two or three times a day, usually at 12:00 noon and 4:00 p.m. Actually, there’s no point to it anymore—we’re already in heaven after all—but I guess habits are hard to break.

Not one of us has ever seen God. Come to think about it, that is a bit strange, isn’t it? But who cares?

Someday you’ll come across an envelope that has your name on it. You’ll be speechless. You’ll break into a cold sweat and your heart will pound. After all, you’ve arrived. You’re here. Why is your prayer only getting here now?

She suspects the dream belongs to Sister Vina, who is from Naimata and lives in the room directly above. The dream must have fallen out of bed, thinks Tula. It must have slipped down her black hair and through the floor
into my grey head.