Order Lolas' House Now


Galang Stories & Essays

Celit pushed the cart, pulling tins of sardines, Vienna sausage, and Spam from the shelves. She took the last carton of Saltine crackers and grabbed several liters of cola.

“Where is our apology? How long must we wait?” demands Lola Catalina Lorenzo, who tells me her harrowing story

A day before its cover story went live, the Atlantictweeted, “Coming tomorrow: Lola’s story by Alex Tizon.”

Carmen leaned back in her recliner, feet twitching. Her toes were dry and itchy. Her knees ached. Outside the sun had set early, even for November.

Soledad massaged Lola E’s forearm, ran her thumb through the thick of the old lady’s yellow skin. The wrinkles were fine.
Copyright 2017 - M. Evelina Galang