We get out of the car and Ian carries Iliana across the parking lot, grateful she’s not actually asleep. The drive to Shoreline is just long enough to make her…
Essays
These Ants Are Not Cockroaches (And Other Things I Tell Myself When I Am Viciously Homesick)
written by Celeste Noelani
I duck my head to step beneath a branch laden with dainty pink blossoms. A cluster of multi-colored tulips bloom at the base of the cherry tree, slender leaves shaking in an almost-chilled…
On losing and reclaiming my Hawaiian culture. I couldn’t begin to count how many times I’ve had the same conversation. I’ll say something like “Oh, look I have a puka in…
Trigger Warning: suicide, self harm, stillbirth, abuse “How was therapy?” Ian asks. He asks this after every session, but this time is different. He is worried about me. “It was…
I take the four-year-old to wander around while the husband finishes his little shopping spree. He needs a pair of shorts for our trip to Hawaiʻi, but a great sale…