Everyone’s sitting down to eat, Fred at the head of the table near the bottles, his shirt untucked, his face already red from the wine, his wife, Kim, next to him, the scarf around her neck looped twice like a serpent, their son, Jerry, seventeen, leering at the KFC bucket like he wants to fuck it, their baby, Jenny, her hair an accident, picking up her chopsticks and eyeing the drumstick, Fred picking up the drumstick with his chopsticks and putting it in Jenny’s bowl of rice, Fred finding the second drumstick and putting it in Jerry’s bowl of rice, Kim intercepting a wing with her chopsticks and putting it in Fred’s bowl of rice, Fred settling on a thigh and putting the wing from Kim in Kim’s bowl of rice, Kim telling Jenny to eat the breast, Kim telling Jerry to eat the rest, Jerry thinking about thighs, Jenny thinking about legs, Kim thinking about wings, Fred thinking about skins.
Tiffany Hsieh
Tiffany Hsieh was born in Taiwan and moved to Canada at the age of fourteen. Her fiction and poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in Juked, The Malahat Review, Passages North, Poet Lore, Room, Salamander, The Shanghai Literary Review, Sonora Review,and others. Her work has been nominated for Best Microfiction and Best Small Fictions.She lives in southern Ontario.
