Tree by Kim Chinquee estimated reading time 0:45

Our lawn was blanketed with pecans. When I was really hungry, I would go out to the yard, pick one up and crack it. They were like balloons, explosive. The insides were like sticky soup. I would eat them with my fingers, put extras in the folds of my kimono. I would make several trips, turning on the oven. It would warm me. I would wait. I would make delightments. The house would smell like treats. I would take them to the bedroom, where I would feed my dying husband. Kim Chinquee is the author of Oh Baby (Ravenna Press) and Pretty (White Pine Press). She lives in Buffalo, New York.

Victoria Tishman 3.9.2010 This story is so lyrical and compact. I can see why Kim Chinquee publishes in so many magazines and journals. Her writing is deceitfully simple--there is so much depth, even in that one paragraph and the ending is unexpected but earned. I wish I could write something like this. It's absolutely wonderful.   Make your comments ... Name    (required)   Email    (required - will not be published)     Comments