Sung Home: Chapter Fourteen. {fiction}
I remembered Mama reading 'The Island of the Blue Dolphins' to me when I was little, a true story of an Aleut girl left alone on her home island.
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Sung Home: Chapter Thirteen. {fiction}
No home. Nothing. As I stood staring, paralyzed in the moment, time stretched and contracted for seconds, or for hours. I couldn’t tell.
Sung Home: Chapter Twelve. {fiction}
If it didn’t work out at Gila Hot Springs, I would go back to the Gunderson’s, I decided. With the dead people now buried, it could make a pretty nice home.
Sung Home: Chapter Eleven. {fiction}
We hadn’t had much trouble along the way, and had made good progress. After enjoying our long break, I now felt a surging eagerness to be on our way home.
Sung Home: Chapter Ten. {fiction}
For a few seconds, I couldn’t remember where I was. I even had a moment before I opened my eyes when I thought I was at home before the virus.
Sung Home: Chapter Nine. {fiction}
It was as if someone cleaned the house especially well before the arrival of their special guest, Viral Death. Or perhaps, soon before its departure.
Sung Home: Chapter Eight. {fiction}
I was named after a big batik that Grandma Sita had on the wall of her bedroom of the Hindu goddess Lakshmi... Mama took it down to take home with us.
Sung Home: Chapter Seven. {fiction}
Seth and Daddy seemed to sink more deeply into their beds, like emaciated sloths that had fallen asleep in quicksand, descending ever farther away from us.
Sung Home: Chapter Six. {fiction}
While on these expeditions, if there was any leftover booty, we brought it home to Mama, preparing it for her to show off our newest cooking skills.
Sung Home: Chapter Five. {fiction}
One of the older women rose from her chair and strode over to us. Her hair was stringy and greasy like Stinky Boy’s but she looked strong and confident.