In the long summer holidays, the boy would accompany his mother to work. They woke early on these days, too early even for the sun.
As a writer, I learned early on there was no one place to call home.
They walked the four blocks to the school in silence, Adam in his head, Shayla in hers.
For our PLACE issue, we at Litro were very much interested in hearing from those among you who made the jump from New York to New Hampshire, from San Francisco ...
Litro’s PLACE issue promises to put new names on the map, alongside famous authors and emerging writers. In support of our friends at Pen Parentis, we particularly encouraged writers who ...
Back to writing about sex. The trouble with writing about sensuality today is that we are being prodded from all directions.
“It’s your turn to marry,” Little Auntie Xiǎo Gū said in Mandarin, “Your father says your boyfriend is poor. He’s found you another.”
I was the boy in the morning, losing his parasol. I was the parasol, caught by a breeze.
Can you keep a secret, Ms. Sharma? If you can’t, just rip up this essay right now. Still reading?
For me, writing has been a process of migrating, reluctantly, from one place to another, from a place at my desk to a place in my mind.
Each of those first few days startled me awake. I’d lay discombobulated, feeling the yolk in my belly stir and the toddler next to me turn, and remember that I ...
The word is parenting—and as an intransitive verb, it was first coined in 1959. Until the 1960s, you might be the parent of someone, but you did not “parent” them.
Nature is in crisis, and the crisis is anything but natural.
Three poems from Mutsuo Takahaski
Two poems from Japanese poet Akehiro Shirai
Alison Watts discusses a Japanese adaptation of Othello.
A young woman comes to terms with what gets passed down.
Six poems by poet Tian Yuan.
Japanese artist Mari Katayama interviewed.