André Naffis-Sahely

for S.H.   The dry August air reeks of wood and ash and the smoke plumes leaving the rocky bowl of the San Gabriels sink to kiss the lawn.   The dogs bark themselves hoarse, their frightened black throats as charred as the wounded hillsides. No refuge for ...

“Thus we lived among the woods until merciful God freed us of these miseries through Father Peyri and seven Spanish soldiers.   In the Mission, the Fernandino Father is like a king. He has his pages, majordomos, musicians, and horses by the thousand.   They made ...

Waiting for the school bus in Abu Dhabi one morning, age eleven, I sleepily registered the final moments of a man falling off an eight-story rooftop. His body splattered against the pavement a few dozen feet from where I was standing. The bus was behind schedule, and by the time ...