Super Sisters

Priyanka Chiguluri

I wasn’t allowed to like hot pink when I was a kid because hot pink was my sister’s favorite color: she had hot pink clothes shoes journals and towels— everything she owned was hot pink even her favorite pen that sang “Fabulous” from High School Musical 2, the movie we watched together on humid summer days when we were two kids braving the world together gliding through life careless, free without anxiety creeping through our skin nothing could stop the super sisters not even our parents’ divorce, or moving into houses and apartments in faraway, strange neighborhoods, or our pets disappearing one by one, some because of old age, others because we couldn’t afford to keep them; or changing schools and eating microwave meals because money was tight— together we were invincible

Now we’re older and moving on, separate states and hundreds of miles plant a gap between us; busy schedules yank us far apart, and our time together floats in fragile text bubbles— we’re particles dissipated by growing up.

But she still loves hot pink, we never lost our courage, and we’re forever connected by childhood memories— an unbreakable super sister duo

Traditional Beef Noodles

Allyson Mao

Old hands, Stained with time. Young hands, Stained with inexperience. These hands Stir The soup ever so slightly, Careful not to blemish their tradition.

Windowless but also doorless, The crowd surges like a tsunami In this quiet summer heat. Children loudly slurp noodles, Ignoring the admonitions of their parents.

“How do you sit here Every day Watching others rush towards Their futures and then continue to sit?”

“I sit to protect the Past So we will not forget Where we came from.”

Artwork by Pauline Bailey