Kim Chinquee is an American original, reports Ben Bradlee, Jr. This is her fifth collection of flash fictions from Ravenna, and a true delight.
Excerpt:
COMPANION
The stillness of the elevator makes its occupants grow silent. A woman with curved hands holding a stability ball squeezes herself into a corner. A man stands wringing his cap the color of a kidney. Another, who holds the leash of his furry companion, donned with a harness labeling him as service, looks up to the ceiling. A man with no legs in a wheelchair wears the same kind of jungle hat another woman (a veteran herself) recognizes, like the one on her son s head in the picture he sent the day before, geared up in his flack vest, rifle on his chest, his face done up in black and green and brown. She says hello to the man.
