By Jordan Power
In my earliest memory, I’m three and hunched behind a blue exercise mat, masquerading as a stage curtain. My parents have paused dinner preparation for a sneak peek at my latest theatrical original, always here for one night only. I hit play on the boombox, click on the nightlight illuminating the side walls, and saunter from the back of the “curtain.”

By Charles Baran

I was an excellent houseboy at first. Mondays I’d do the laundry: sheets in the morning, towels in the afternoon. Tuesdays I’d vacuum and shake the sand out of the area rugs. Wednesdays I’d clean the three bathrooms. On Thursday I’d grocery shop for the weekend. By 4 p.m., I was done.

By Rafaelito V. Sy

I READ MY FIRST NOVEL at age fourteen. If my high school English teacher had not assigned a report on a book written for adults, then I would never have picked up Jeffrey Archer’s Kane and Abel.