Minh Hoang
Stories (2/0)
Venus is the loneliest planet
I sent Diego a message so long that it looks like a lover's letter during wartime. If it is true that life imitates art, I assume most people think of their lives as some grandiose cinematic experience. I mean, I do. Your first love stole your virginity then buried it with him when he died a heroic death in a pointless war. And despite being a grandparent of seventeen grandkids, you still occasionally have the reveries about his lips when you take your denture out before bed. Or something like that.
By Minh Hoang2 years ago in Fiction
Some unholy war
1. My father smokes so much I used to think that he’d burn down the sky someday. How many times have I watched him doing so? A glow of orange tints like a fading star, a thin stretch of white confines between the roughness and thickness of his two fingers. The dusty, grainy scent of smoke
By Minh Hoang3 years ago in Fiction