Twilight Territory

by Andrew X. Pham

The patterns were only beginning to form, but she sensed an aura around Ha, Xuan, and Yamazaki, as if their destinies would be linked for better or for worse.

Tuyet twisted the jade bracelet on her wrist. It was a family heirloom, her mother’s single valuable possession. The longer you wear it, the greener it becomes, her mother had said.

The purer your heart, the deeper the color.

“A boy misses home; a man remembers it.”

“Do you miss your country?” “As much as you miss Hanoi.” “Hanoi is not across the sea.” “Sea, land—same. Distance and time.”

“I am the only child in my family. I was born in the middle of the night during a cyclone. My father went down to the bay to fetch two buckets of seawater to bathe me, to put salt into my veins. But it also put wanderlust into my bones.

“A woman does not want; she needs to know all there is to know. Even then, maybe it’s still not enough.

“Words cannot map the heart.”