Monty Bhatti

“Marco had examined every inch of Guayanés Beach, where coconut palms that once grew along the shore in majestic rows lay crisscrossed in the sand like scattered pencils.”
― Margarita Barresi, A Delicate Marriage

“It’s inevitable. But we pretend it isn’t until that point where we can’t deny it anymore. Then we begin to repent.”
“Repent for our sins.” I nodded.
“No! We repent for the opportunities that we missed. The doors we should have walked through.”
― Michael Deeze, The Deathbed Confessions

“Ahem! Ahem!” As I recalled, Aunt Kathy loved Uncle Dan so much, she went grocery shopping during his funeral and failed to attend his burial as well. Apparently, Ham Hocks, Collard greens, Chitlin, Fatback, and Hog-Head cheesetook higher priority over his Last Rites. Then the reverend proceeded cautiously as he introduced my mom. “Let metell y’all about my Ms. Liza. Sister Kathy kept this one close.”
“Ahem! Ahem! Ar-choo! Ahem!”
Shockingly, there was a lightening blast that rocked the building once again while dimming the lights for more than 10seconds. The crowd turned restless, took a deep breath, and then allowed Pastor Keith to resume. “I’m gonna tell y’all, they were two kernels on a cob. When you saw Sister Kathy, you saw Sister Liza.
“Ahem! Ahem! Ahem!”
“The two of them raised those boys from seeds to bean stalks. We helped nourish them right here in Zion Gate Union. Now they’re just ripe for the harvest. I hope some of you ladies can take a

hint!” For a brief moment, modest laughter filled the church. Yet, it was needed because Pastor Keith had gone into uncharted waters. No one dared to challenge my mom. Yet, Pastor Keith was speaking glowingly about her. Only a fewwanted to see where the Reverend was going. But most didn’t care to re-open that door. Church members were so afraid of Mom, no one dared to call her by name. All parishioners would go mute and head the other way, or simply hit the exits just to avoid all encounters.”
― Harold Phifer, My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift

“We think that the word 'boy' or the the word 'girl' says something about who a person is, who they will be. But that difference is much less dictated by the body they're born in than created by what we expect of them and how we treat each other.”
― Sara Pascoe