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Works of fiction and poetry by friends of Bamboo Ridge Press.

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Misty Sanico is co-founder of HawaiiReads.com, a freelance writer and social media manager, and a sporadic book reviewer for the Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Also, a professional procrastinator and a loyal member of the Complex Compound Sentence Club. Club motto: "no fragment left behind".

THIS IS A YEAR OF THE HORSE CONTEST ENTRY

Kaka'ako Dreams

Published by APPLEBLOSSUM | Monday, June 30, 2014 11:26 AM


303 words (Flash Fiction started at the Buckaloose Writing Workshop on 6/16/14, then tweaked at home)


Inspired by the trigger: "some dreams are just that, dreams" from 'Mango Lessons,' by Michael Little


Tutu grew up in Kaka’ako.
Did you know?
When it was more residential, less warehouse.
More neighborhood, less development.
More village root, less urban veneer.
When it was more da kine and less hip—ster.

Her memories map a place we can only imagine.
Of a Portuguese girl marching in the Holy Ghost parade
making all the other Podagee girls jealous
(by the way, it’s *Portuguese*, not Podagee).
All the Podagee houses were more mauka than makai
Because the Podagees had status, she says,
or mostly cuz the shore was a swamp.

Walking through the alleys of her childhood,
Tutu grips her recollections like a vice.
There was a Japanese grocery store here,
nice husband and wife.
But then Tutu is lost and turned around because
Kaka’ako has lost its shape.
Its face stretched botox thin.
Its bones crushed by glimmering new glass and steel.
No rusty skeleton, no wrinkled, sunken flesh worn
like a badge of honor.
Just gone like a revenant, a ghost, a whisper.

“What street is this?” Tutu wonders.
It’s smooth and shiny like granite counter tops and marble floors.
Another part of Hawaii in disguise.
Another part of Hawaii made modern for us
…nah, not really for US.

Luxury isn’t having tangible heritage,
it is ample parking and a 24 hour concierge.
Didn't you know?
It is half a million dollars
one bedroom and no lanai.
It is contemporary and we should be happy.
Thankful that Kaka’ako is “residential” once more.

Tutu says there was a rock wall by the water pumping station…
They used to play tag, all the kids, everybody together
until the sunset made the air hazy.
She remembers Kaka’ako best in dreams of the past
And in dreams of a future where her descendants might live there too.
But sometimes a dream is just that, a dream.




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