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How I Came to Love You Like a Brother

How I Came to Love You Like a Brother Tien-Yi Lee fiction ucia said she was going to marry an Israeli man with a glass eye. It came as a shock, this news, as I had met him only once before, briefly, when I was in town for a meeting with a pair of squat but handsome attorneys, both with poultry-like thighs. His name was Yonah. He owned an organic foods store on the Lower East Side, down the street from a sex shoppe, across from the Pink Pony, next door to an Indian wine bar, beneath three floors of apartments that Lucia said he rented out to the yuppies who would soon take over the neighborhood. He had offered me tea, and I took peppermint green, and he scurried around, mashing Swiss chard and kale in a loud, industrial blender, barking orders to his nephews, or maybe they were second or third cousins (I never knew, there were so many), because they were sluggish in their work of unloading ripe mangos and local beets off the delivery trucks. He was yelling often. I thought, This Yonah, he is quite a rough man. He dusted the wine, mopped the floor, restocked packages of dried figs and goji http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Missouri Review University of Missouri

How I Came to Love You Like a Brother

The Missouri Review , Volume 33 (3) – Nov 4, 2010

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Publisher
University of Missouri
Copyright
Copyright © University of Missouri
ISSN
1548-9930
Publisher site
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Abstract

Tien-Yi Lee fiction ucia said she was going to marry an Israeli man with a glass eye. It came as a shock, this news, as I had met him only once before, briefly, when I was in town for a meeting with a pair of squat but handsome attorneys, both with poultry-like thighs. His name was Yonah. He owned an organic foods store on the Lower East Side, down the street from a sex shoppe, across from the Pink Pony, next door to an Indian wine bar, beneath three floors of apartments that Lucia said he rented out to the yuppies who would soon take over the neighborhood. He had offered me tea, and I took peppermint green, and he scurried around, mashing Swiss chard and kale in a loud, industrial blender, barking orders to his nephews, or maybe they were second or third cousins (I never knew, there were so many), because they were sluggish in their work of unloading ripe mangos and local beets off the delivery trucks. He was yelling often. I thought, This Yonah, he is quite a rough man. He dusted the wine, mopped the floor, restocked packages of dried figs and goji

Journal

The Missouri ReviewUniversity of Missouri

Published: Nov 4, 2010

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